Lanherne Chronicles (Prequel): To Escape the Dead (29 page)

‘Please, Kyle. I’m sorry… Please…’ the girl sobbed, through cracked and bleeding lips.

Meanwhile as Abby begged for the forgiveness that Liz knew Kyle would never offer, Baxter secured Liz’s wrists and ankles with the strong plastic ties.

‘Done,’ he said, pulling the last of the ties painfully tight about her wrists.

‘Good, now get the door for Parker,’ nodded Kyle, gesturing towards the man struggling to keep the Dead woman in one place while fiddling with the bolt at the same time, ‘we don’t want a load of corpses littering up the place.’

Not waiting to be told twice, Baxter wove his way past a mass of tables, mould covered boxes, stacked chairs and old electrical fans to open the door for his perverted friend.

‘Ready?’ said Baxter, his hand on the bolt.

‘Go for it!’ Parker replied, grabbing the Dead woman by her shoulders.

Swiftly pulling the bolt across, Baxter swung open the door and for the briefest of moments the light broke through the darkness of the room beyond allowing Liz to catch a glimpse of the horrors held within.

‘Jesus!’ she whispered, tearing her gaze from the countless Dead women and girls all with bags over their heads, in various states of decay.

‘How… how can you allow those two to keep them like that?’ she asked, shaking her head in disbelief while the rancid stench of rotting flesh wafted about the room.

Beside her, Abby whimpered before starting to gag as the stinking miasma enveloped her. 

‘They’re quite safe in there,’ Kyle replied, watching Parker shove the Dead woman into the room to join her putrid sisters before slamming the door on her, ‘and with the bags on their heads they’re completely unaware of our presence… should they by some miracle or blatant act of stupidity on Baxter or Parker’s part actually get out of that room… well, they’ve still got two more locked doors to get through before putting us in any real danger.’

‘And the people here, they’re OK with all this, are they?’ Liz continued, completely dumbfounded that these men could be so ridiculously stupid.

‘Well,’ said Kyle, kneeling down to look Liz in the eye, ‘that’s the whole point of a secret isn’t it… choosing just who needs to know what…. and anyway what they don’t know can’t hurt them…’

‘Except in this case it can…’ she replied, holding Kyle’s gaze. ‘But then I don’t suppose you have to worry about people asking questions, do you? What with those two in your pocket and Zak under your thumb, who’s going to risk rocking the boat?’

‘Zak?’ said Kyle, his eyes narrowing questioningly as if trying to read something hidden from her face. ‘You know… I think someone’s been listening at key holes…’

Instantly Liz knew she had made a mistake, she had let slip just how much she knew about what was really going on at Saint Xavier’s.

‘Now…’ he continued, roughly grabbing her chin, ‘you’re not going to be a problem for me… are you, Elizabeth?’

‘Look…,’ he continued after a pause, suddenly releasing her chin to sit back in his heels, ‘I could go back and forth with subtle threats to keep your mouth shut… but quite frankly you strike me as the sort of woman that prefers to get right to the point…’

Liz silently nodded her agreement.

‘I thought so,’ he said, smiling more at his own astuteness rather than at anything else, ‘Well, let me spell it out for you then…You blab one word, one single word about what these two get up to down here and I see to it that that sweet little sister of yours gets fed to the corpses outside… simple as that… Oh, and what’s more, I’ll make you watch from the wall before handing you over to Baxter and Parker here… you may be a little warmer than they prefer but I’m sure they could make do…’

Liz looked at Kyle and knew he meant every word. She could see the madness and need for control dancing in his eyes. This man was clearly used to getting what he wanted and by whatever means he deemed necessary. This coupled with his desire to remain the secret Kingpin of Saint Xavier’s made him extremely dangerous, perhaps even more dangerous than the Dead women locked in the darkness.

‘I understand,’ she simply replied, keeping the rage that coursed through her from showing itself in her face.

For a few seconds Kyle simply stared at her, weighing up in his mind whether Liz had truly taken his threat on board. Then without a word he pushed himself upright to stand over Liz and Abby.

‘Time to gather together our other additions before the menfolk go a-hunting,’ he said holding Liz’s blank stare.

When he saw Liz was either refusing to take the bait or simply hadn’t heard his plan for the men of her group, Kyle broke eye contact and turned to Baxter and Parker.

‘You two need to go get the woman with Freya,’ he began, already dismissing Liz from his thoughts, ‘and try not to be too rough with her, I like her face the way it is.’

‘What about the pregnant one?’ asked Baxter, scratching his stubbly beard. ‘Do we bring her too?’

‘No, leave her,’ he replied. ‘She’ll be in no state to cause any trouble but wave a few threats about concerning her baby… that’ll shut her up.’

‘Now the other two are going to be tricky,’ he continued, removing his glasses to tap them against his chin while he thought it through. ‘We don’t want them kicking up a fuss and alerting the rest of the group… I know… get Freya to lead them both here.’

‘Freya?’ asked Parker, walking over to a small sink in the corner to wash the smell of Dead flesh from his hands.

‘Yes, Freya,’ Kyle repeated. ‘I think you’ll find she’ll be very…. accommodating.’

As he said the last word his gaze flicked briefly to Abby who was still silently weeping on the floor and as he leered down at her he did little to hide the cruel smile that twitched at his lips.

‘Right, let’s get this show on the road,’ he finally said, slipping his glasses back on as he walked to the door.

With Parker and Baxter leaving before him, Kyle turned to the two bound women on the stone floor.

‘Won’t be long, ladies,’ he said, his hand hovering over the light switch.

With a final flash of a malicious grin, Kyle flipped the switch and as he closed the door behind him Liz and Abby were plunged into complete darkness. Listening to the sound of his retreating footsteps, Liz knew she had to get free to warn Charlie and the others so she began to struggle against the zip-lock ties about her ankles and wrists.

‘So what law did you break?’ she whispered to Abby, as she tried in vain to wriggle her bound wrists under her hips.

‘W… What?’ the tearful girl replied, despite Liz’s words sounding unusually loud in the dark room

‘Kyle said you broke a law,’ she repeated, with an annoyed grunt realising it was impossible to slip her hands around her bottom to the back of her legs. ‘What law?’

‘Oh… I… I tried to leave,’ Abby sighed, her words dripping with remorse and sorrow.

‘Figures,’ muttered Liz with an exasperated sigh.

***

‘I’ll get rid of this later,’ said Freya, covering the bucket containing Carmella’s placenta with a towel.

‘He is beautiful, yes?’ whispered Carmella, glancing up from the baby cradled in her arms with a look of pure rapture on her face,.‘My little Vincenzo…’

‘Yes, Carmella. He’s beautiful,’ replied Fran.

With a smile, Freya crossed the room to stand by the exhausted woman in the bed.

‘He’s perfect,’ Freya added, gently using the back of her little finger to stroke the sleeping baby’s cheek.

‘Now… you need to rest too, Carmella,’ she continued, turning her attention to the ruffled blankets on the bed.

‘Yes, you should get some sleep,’ Fran agreed. ‘I’m surprised you can keep your eyes open after all you’ve been through… and don’t worry, we’ll be here to keep an eye on Vincenzo for you.’

‘Well…’ Carmella began, obviously not too keen to let her baby out of her sight even to give in to her exhaustion.

‘No arguments,’ interrupted Freya, beginning to plump the two sad looking pillows wedged behind the woman’s shoulders.

‘Perhaps, you are right,.’ she finally relented, trying to ease herself down the bed. ‘Perhaps the pain will be better after I sleep.’

‘What pain?’ Fran began to say when a knock at the door suddenly cut her off.

‘Who on earth can that be at this time?’ mumbled Freya, picking up one of the candles and walking to the door.

Instinctively Fran moved to stand by Carmella, her hand resting protectively on the new mother’s shoulder.

‘What do you want?’ asked Freya, pulling open to door to find Baxter and Parker standing there.

‘Zak wants to know if the baby’s been born,’ Baxter replied, pushing himself away from the door frame he had been leaning against to walk into the room.

‘Well, yes… but...’ said Freya, slightly flustered as Parker pushed past her to follow Baxter.

‘She… she needs to rest…’ she tried to continue.

‘What is it, a boy?’ Baxter asked, ignoring Freya’s protest to stand beside Fran.

‘Yes,’ whispered Carmella, instinctively pulling her son just that bit closer as Baxter moved aside the blanket to get a good look at the child.

‘He’s going to be a right bruiser,’ said Baxter, smiling as he looked up from the baby boy who had wrapped his tiny fingers around his little finger.

‘Look, she needs to sleep,’ said Fran, trying to put herself between Carmella and the man. ‘Can’t this wait till morning? I mean…’

If she had seen the smile slowly drop from Baxter’s face, Fran may have stopped there. As it was, only Carmella saw the young man’s face suddenly cloud over and as her panicked glance flitted to Fran, Baxter began to turn.

‘She’s just had a ba…’ Fran was still saying, when Baxter turned and punched her full in the face sending her flying back against a dresser.

‘What the!’ began Freya, shocked by Baxter’s action while Carmella shrieked and clutched her baby to her chest.

‘Shut it!’ snapped Parker, grabbing Freya by the arm. ‘Zak’s orders. We need to take this one to the basement for a while.’

‘And you,’ grunted Baxter, lifting Fran’s unconscious body up onto his wide shoulders, ‘you’re going to get the other one and the kid from their room, OK?’

‘B… but…’ stammered Freya, looking from Parker to Baxter.

‘Listen you stupid Bitch,’ growled Parker, his hand tightening about her arm causing her to yelp, ‘if you want Zak to go lightly on that dyke sister of yours, you’ll do as you’re told… got it?’

Freya looked up into the cruel face of the man holding her, the flickering candle she still held sending ominous shadows dancing across his face and with tears of shame and resignation filling her eyes she slowly nodded.

‘Freya!’ begged a weeping Carmella from the bed. ‘Please… please do not do this…’

‘I’m… I’m sorry, I so sorry…’ she whispered over and over, while Parker pulled her from the room.

‘Freya!’ cried Carmella, watching the young woman disappear through the door with the two men and Fran. ‘Please, Freya, please…’

But as Baxter pulled the door closed behind him, Carmella heard the sickening sound of a key turning in a lock and she knew she was on her own.

‘Freya… please…’ she wept, her repeated words but a whisper as she pressed her lips to her baby’s forehead.

Then suddenly the uncomfortable pain she had been feeling since giving birth to Vincenzo seemed to instantly multiply tenfold and as a tearing spasm ripped through her Carmella instinctively curled up into a ball, her own cries joining that of her now screaming baby.

‘
Gesù, che cosa sta succedendo! Ti prego Dio, aiutami!’ she cried, feeling a warm pool spreading across the bed from between her legs. ‘Per favore aiutatemi...’

Dreading what she would find but needing to know what was happening to her, Carmella gingerly placed her hand between her legs. With a prayer on her lips, she slowly withdrew her hand, only to stare in horror at the slick of deep red blood she saw covering it.

‘Cara Dio si pregna di non,’ she wept, praying for salvation from her own body.

Pushing aside the already blood sodden sheets, Carmella knew she needed help; she needed to get to the door. Despite knowing the door was locked, if she could just get to it there was a slim chance someone would hear her cries for help. So nestling a crying Vincenzo between the two pillows to keep him safe, she slowly swung her aching legs off the side of the bed but even this small movement caused her to double over in pain and cry out. Clutching her stomach as her evidently torn insides protested against the change in position, Carmella lowered her blood-streaked bare legs to the floor.

‘Ti Prego, Dio dammi la forze,’ she sobbed, praying for strength as she used the bed for support to tentatively push herself upright.

With her legs shaking and her panicked breath ragged, Carmella managed to slowly edge her way to the end of the bed but even as her blood covered hand encircled the carved bed post another wave of pain suddenly coursed through her.

‘Gesu!’ she gasped, collapsing to the floor as her legs seemed to lose what little strength they had left.

But Carmella would not be beaten, with her new born son lying helpless on the bed she could not afford to be; so using only her hands she pulled her ever weakening body across the floor towards the locked door. With each painstakingly slow movement the pool of blood about her increased and with it she became weaker and weaker.