Monica O'Rourke - Suffer the Flesh

“You—Zoey. Lay down. Right here.”

This didn’t look good. No, this was a fucking mess. She lifted her hands, protesting. He raised the gun and pointed it at her head. The room was spinning… jagged shards of light stabbed her eyes. Her legs turned to mush. Slowly, she lowered herself to the floor and lay down.

He pointed the gun at Claudia’s head. “Break her leg. Right below the knee.”

The mallet slipped, almost fell from Claudia’s hands.

“Do it! If you disobey me, you won’t be able to imagine what I’ll do to you.”

Her complexion was ashy. “I can’t…”

He pulled the hammer back on the gun, pointed it at her. “Oh, you can’t?”

Claudia raised the mallet.

He stepped back, gun aimed at her head.

Claudia sobbed. “I’m so sorry, Zoey!” She raised the mallet two-fisted over her head.

Zoey squeezed her eyes shut, waited for the unimaginable pain

Crack! She opened them again when she felt nothing.

Her tormentor was on his knees, blood tricking down his scalp.

Behind him stood Kim, sporting a metal pipe in both hands, chest heaving, spattered blood freckling her face.

“Oh, Jesus,” Zoey muttered, shaking so badly she couldn’t move.

Claudia grabbed the three guns from his belt and from where he had dropped one. Kim knelt beside Zoey, helped her sit up. She threw her arms around Kim’s neck and sobbed.

Claudia shut the door. The room exploded in cheers. “Where’s that fat fuck’s gun?” she said, heading toward Serge’s body.

“I forgot about you, Kim.” Behind her, people were carefully lowering a crucified Tamara to the floor.

“Where were you? Why didn’t they find you?” Zoey asked.

“I hid beneath the rack, right below that asshole. The guys came in and untied him, but he was a babbling mess. He barely knew where he was, never mind me. And those guys are so strung out on god-knows-what they didn’t remember who they’d left behind.”

“Where did you find the pipe?” Zoey asked, testing its weight in her hands, avoiding the smear of blood decorated with flecks of scalp.

“Upstairs. I went looking for you and found that guy instead. Your handiwork I presume? I saw what was happening down here and looked for a weapon.”

Claudia returned. “We’ve got five guns. Not too bad. And we’re slowly eliminating those scumbags. How many are left?”

“Four or five I think,” Zoey said. “And five down so far.”

“Five?”

“These two, two in the room where they had Tamara, Jess, and Kim, and one upstairs in observation. I took care of that one. I think nine came in originally, right?”

Claudia nodded. “I think it was nine, maybe ten.”

“Any chance they have guards posted upstairs?” Zoey asked.

“Not likely,” Claudia said. “There wouldn’t be a need for guards, right? These cocky bastards probably figured they were just dealing with a group of women and a handful of unarmed guards. Nothing they couldn’t handle.”

She turned to the former guards, who were huddled in a corner, wisely staying out of Zoey’s way. “How do we get out of this place?”

Larry—whose name they learned after checking his wallet—was dragged to the rack and strapped down. After half a dozen cranks he began to scream, so someone stuffed a shirt in his mouth to gag him.

“They’re taking too long to eat,” Claudia said. She crossed her arms and rubbed her shoulders, her teeth chattering. “They should have been back by now.”

“We need to send someone to check,” Zoey said.

Kim shook her head. “Too dangerous. If someone goes out there, she could get caught.”

“Ideas then?” Zoey glanced around the room. Even the badly injured seemed excited, alive. Tamara had been removed from the cross, her horrible wounds bandaged as best as possible by Marie, a doctor before she was kidnapped. The first-aid kit was now empty. Everywhere around the room women sported bandages, antiseptic, and burn cream.

“I can listen at the door. See if anyone’s coming. We should have someone there anyway,” Kim said.

Zoey nodded.

“Let’s talk to the guards,” Claudia said, pushing her hair behind her ears.

The guards were the lesser of two evils and were still regarded with disdain. Untying them hadn’t seemed like a good idea, so they left their hands bound.

“Quiet everyone,” Zoey said. Conversations stopped. “Kim’s going to guard the door, to see if they’re coming back. That means the door will be open, so everyone has to keep real quiet.”

The guards cowered when Zoey and Claudia approached them. James was conscious now, blinking dried blood off his lashes, his eyes so swollen they barely opened.

“How do we get out of here?” Claudia asked the guards. “Where’s the exit?”

Heads bowed, turned away. One cleared his throat. Nobody was volunteering information.

“Goddammit,” Claudia snapped. “Don’t you get it? This is over. We’re not your prisoners anymore. Now tell us how to get out if this fucking hellhole.”

Robin, former-prisoner-turned-guard, the one who had raped Zoey with a nightstick, scowled and snapped her hair out of her eyes. “It doesn’t work that way.”

“What way?” Zoey asked, aching to kick her, punch her, anything. “What are you talking about?”

“You’ll never get past Zack,” Robin said. “He’s a goddamned drug lord, for Christ’s sake. And if by some miracle you do, we’ll all be in trouble. You’ll go to the cops.”

“I got news for you, sweetheart,” Claudia said, prodding her with her bare foot. “I am the cops. You kidnapped, raped, and tortured a cop. Have any idea what they’ll do to you in prison? If you make it to prison.”

Zoey elbowed her. “You’re not helping, here…” But she smiled, knowing that Robin probably wouldn’t have said anything helpful anyway.

“Look, guys, there’s only one way we’ll survive this, and that’s through the exit. In case you haven’t noticed, you’re mixed up in all of this, too. You think they’ll just let you walk out of here?”

“Sure,” Tony said. Dried blood was smeared across his lip. “They won’t do anything to us. They know we can’t turn them in. What would we say to the cops? That the men we brought in to rape the women we’d already kidnapped turned on us? That’d go over well.”

“Are you kidding?” Zoey said. “Look at yourselves. You really think you would have survived this? They can’t take any chance of one of you squealing. Look what they did to James.”

James laughed, his face a spasm of pain for his efforts. “They won’t tell you anything,” he said through swollen, split lips, cracked and bloodied teeth. “Too well paid.”

“I’ll tell you,” Kevin said. Kevin—the only one to show any compassion, the one who had tried to stop Serge and his fellow pigs in the nursery.

“Shut the fuck up,” James said.

“Fuck you,” Kevin said. “Zoey, I’m so sorry about all of this. Believe me when I tell you I had no choice in doing what I did. It’s over, James.”

“You know what’ll happen to your kids, Kevin. You want one of your little girls being fucked and tortured down here? They’ll be right beside their daddy, their little pussies stretched by giant cocks…”

“Fuck you!” Kevin spat. “I’ll fucking kill you!”

Zoey gently covered Kevin’s mouth with her hand. She said to James, “Tell us how to get out of here, or I swear to god I’ll—”

“They’re coming!” Kim cried, gently closing the door.

Claudia handed Zoey a gun and handed one to Kim and Jessica, who had both handled firearms before. They hid behind columns, ducked low.