The Flesh Eaters (14 page)

“You are not innocent! Confess! Confess your guilt!”

The Sheriff slaps Geoffrey across the face and nods to the guard. The press is tightened once again. Geoffrey gives a mindless scream and then his head drops forward. He is unconscious.

“There,” the Sheriff says. “He said it. He said guilty. You heard it, didn’t you?”

The guard, a stupid fellow, looks confused. “I didn’t hear nothing.”

“You fool! He said ‘guilty’ as plain as you could like. What’s the matter with you? Are you deaf that you did not hear his confession? Well? Did you hear it or not?”

Rattled by the Sheriff’s angry, glare, the guard stammers “I heard.... I heard it.”

“That’s right. Now we can hang them.”

A double scaffold has been erected in Market Square, and many townspeople are on hand for the occasion. The Magistrate stands before the gallows, awaiting the prisoners. This is a new magistrate, an exceedingly tall man, dry and sober, cadaverously thin. Even his voice is thin and hollow.

Donald and Geoffrey Calder, their hands tied behind them, are dragged up to the scaffold. Their bodies have been abused and their spirits broken. They look pleadingly at the crowd, but meet only stony stares and eager grins. The ropes are put around their necks.

“Donald Calder and Geoffrey Calder,” the Magistrate drones, “you have confessed and been found guilty of highway robbery, banditry, and murder. These are capital crimes. Accordingly, you will be hung by the neck until you are dead. May God show you more mercy than you showed your victims.”

“We are innocent... innocent... stop this... please stop this,” Geoffrey cries out, but his voice is so weak that only the closest spectators can hear him. Several of them chuckle in a knowing fashion.

“Brother, forgive me. It was my fault that this happened,” Donald whispers.

Geoffrey attempts a smile. “Of course, I forgive you. If this can happen, we are better out of this world.”

Donald looks relieved. “Thank you. Goodbye, brother. Until we meet in a better place.”

“Farewell, brother.”

The Magistrate signals, the traps drop open. The brothers jerk and twitch at the ends of the rope for a long time. At last they hang motionless, except for a slow swaying in the breeze.

The Sheriff stands close to the gallows, a satisfied expression on his bulldog face. A number of spectators shake his hand; some slap him on the back in a congratulatory way.

It is evening in the cave.

The youngest children are playing a rough form of tag that involves knocking each other about. They play in almost complete silence, making no sound when they are hurt, for that is the object of the game—to keep silent—to make an opponent cry out.

Sawney Beane and Meg sit on their elevated pallet, Meg nursing a baby at her spreading breast. Sawney Beane sits still, his eyes half-closed. He seems almost asleep, but nothing in the cave escapes his attention.

First Hunter and Girl Hunter sit off in the shadows outside the circle of candlelight. The scabs and pustules on First Hunter’s face glow dull red in the dim light. He leans over to whisper in Girl Hunter’s ear, but her expression remains blank. He whispers again, more urgently, and the ghost of a smile crosses her face.

First Hunter looks around to see if anyone is watching, but it seems they are unobserved. He places his hand on the calf of Girl Hunter’s leg, then slowly moves it higher. She does not stir. He continues to caress her, reaching still higher. He pushes her dress up, baring her thighs. First Hunter looks over his shoulder again. His father is sitting quietly, seemingly unaware. But though Sawney Beane gives no outward sign, his attention is focused on the boy and girl.

First Hunter rubs and squeezes the firm flesh of Girl Hunter’s thighs. Though she does not change her position, she begins to respond to his touch. Her eyes close, the rhythm of her breathing alters.

Continuing to fondle one leg, First Hunter cups her small breast with his other hand. At first he squeezes the breast through the rough material of her shift, but soon he puts his hand down the top of it. At his touch, her nipple swells and grows erect. First Hunter loses all sense of caution. He is not aware that Sawney Beane is staring hard in their direction, his eyes now fully open.

First Hunter pulls down the top of Girl Hunter’s loose fitting shift, revealing both her breasts. At the sight of the small, dark-tipped globes, he sucks in his breath. Then he covers one breast with his mouth, letting his tongue run over the taut nipple.

Girl Hunter has remained seated, but now she leans back, resting her weight on her arms, her eyes closed. She never touches First Hunter.

First Hunter maneuvers himself between her legs, oblivious to everything except the body against which he is pressing. He pushes Girl Hunter’s dress up to her waist and his hands roam wildly all over her body. His fingers brush the fine, sparse hair of her pubis and feel a warm dampness. A strangled grunt of satisfaction escapes him.

First Hunter undoes his breeches and prepares to enter his sister. Just as he is about to thrust forward, he is lifted abruptly and thrown to one side. Sawney Beane stands over him, his face expressionless. First Hunter reacts like a mad animal—growling, spitting, roaring his anger and frustration. “You... you... shit eater... sheep fucker... you...” he spits at his father.

Sawney Beane laughs,” and this enrages First Hunter even more. He attacks ferociously, clawing and trying to bite his father. The boy’s rage makes his attack ineffective, and Sawney Beane, with his superior strength and cunning, finds it easy to control him.

Eventually Sawney Beane tires of the game and gives First Hunter a tremendous open-handed slap to the head that sends the boy flying. Insane with fury, First Hunter tries to speak, but only spittle comes from his mouth. Finally he manages to scream, “She is mine! She is mine!”

Sawney Beane is no longer amused. A sinister light shines in his eyes. He leaps on First Hunter and begins to choke him. The boy struggles at first, then quietens. His breathing becomes difficult, and his eyes bulge.

Sawney Beane moves his head very close to the boy’s. He speaks slowly, but with great intensity. “I am the Master here. I will take what I want. You can do what you will with the girl... or what she will let you. But you must not interfere with me if I want something. If you fight me again, you will be dead.”

The other children laugh as Sawney Beane releases the boy, who slinks away into the darkness. First Hunter is still angry, but he has no doubt that he will be killed if he challenges Sawney Beane again. He has been defeated, and his clouded brain struggles to adjust to the situation.

Meg has watched the fight impassively, the baby still sucking at her breast.

Sawney Beane looks around to see if there will be other challenges to his authority. His cold stare causes the laughter and chatter to fade into silence. He walks over to Girl Hunter. She is still in the same position, with her breasts bare and her dress bunched at the waist. She breathes heavily; the fight has excited her more than First Hunter’s caresses.

Sawney Beane stares down at her firm young body, so different from the soft, abundant flesh of her mother. His nostrils flare as he inhales the musky woman odor. He pulls down his breeches and throws himself upon her, entering her almost instantly. Girl Hunter gasps in wonder and pleasure.

Meg looks on unconcerned, but the other children are excited.

Sawney Beane makes grunting sounds with each thrust, and the girl’s gasps answer him. As he tenses for orgasm, she digs her fingers into his back. He shouts, “I am the Master!” and immediately Girl Hunter screams in hysterical pleasure. She has been taken by her father! She has been taken by the gray wolf of the forest! His triumphant shout and her scream echo in the silence.

Sawney Beane pulls up his breeches and returns to Meg. He sits in his familiar cross-legged position, his eyes again half closed. The children sit motionless, and then, gradually, they relax. The younger ones resume their game of tag, and the cave is as it was before.

The undercurrent of sexuality in the family bursts forth in the days ahead. Sexual energy crackles through the cave; the smell of lust is heavy. Like a pack of wild dogs in heat, the family couples at every opportunity. All but the youngest children are involved, and these imitate their elders, pressing their naked loins together, thrusting their hips in a parody of the sexual act.

At first the males take the initiative, but Meg soon begins to assert herself, and the girls are quick to follow her lead. All are swept up in the flood. Sawney Beane cannot control the situation, but he is wise enough to realize that he would only jeopardize his position if he attempted to contain the forces he has liberated. And he knows that this new activity, like the hunt, will soon become routine; he will then regain his control. Circumstances will be somewhat different, but he will adapt. He is the Master.

BOOK THREE

I

The family has grown greatly during the last few years. Girl Hunter is nursing her second baby; several of her younger sisters have borne children. In fact, without exception, all the girls who have reached puberty are in varying stages of pregnancy.

Most of the family is out now and the cave is quiet. Meg sits with the younger children and a number of the pregnant girls. A few older boys are paired with girls, and their manner is proprietary. These relationships are not sexually exclusive, and the question of fatherhood does not arise, nor could it be answered if it did.

Now and then someone peers expectantly into the darkness toward the front of the cave.

Meg directs a child to pile up sacks of potatoes, but even her attention wanders to the front.

The pile of bones to one side of the cavern has grown to mountainous proportions. The bones are mostly human, but skulls of sheep, horses, and dogs are also visible, testifying to the fact that the supply of human meat has not always met the demands of the expanding family. A three-year-old infant crouches by the pile, gnawing happily on a dry, cracked bone.

In the center of the cavern, several small children sit in a circle, “making music” by banging thigh bones together. Another sits with a skull between his legs, hitting it with a bone to produce a hollow wooden sound. Still another child strikes a small metal box with a human rib. The children attempt to keep together in a simple rhythm, but produce only a random banging. Annoyed, one of the older boys takes the metal box and tosses it into the shadows. The children eye each other, then drum more quietly.

Just outside the cave, a male child paces nervously, peering up and down the beach. After a while he grows impatient and begins to toss stones into the sea. Then he sees something far down the beach, looks again to be sure, and runs into the cave. His footsteps echo in the darkness.

The members of the family stop what they are doing and look up as the running child appears. “They come!” he announces breathlessly.

The family moves into the center of the cave. As the moments pass, their tension increases. Everyone strains to see into the darkness.

Kloc... Kloc...

A child has struck two bones together, startling them all. Meg cuffs the offender across the head.

Now the sound of many people approaching is heard, and a moment later Sawney Beane appears out of the darkness. Close behind him, First Hunter and several others carry a bloody corpse. Behind this group are still more members of the family, bearing sacks and parcels. The corpse is carried to the center of the cavern and dropped. As the newcomers move into the dimly lighted area, it can be seen that several of them are cut and bleeding.

Meg looks inquiringly at Sawney Beane, who shrugs. “It fought hard, but we beat it,” he says. “We must be more careful. It almost got away.”

The family’s attention is focused on the body at their feet. Nostrils flare as they inhale the scent of it; jaws ache in anticipation. Then several of the younger children can stand it no longer. They leap upon the body, tearing at the exposed flesh with their teeth, and Sawney Beane kicks them away.

“They have had nothing fresh for a long time,” Meg says.

“Nor have any of us. But we do things in the right way.” Sawney Beane sees that all eyes are fixed upon the oozing body. “Prepare it.”

Four of the girls assist Meg to remove, very carefully, the victim’s boots and clothes. The body is that of a stocky man, in his mid-thirties and in good condition. Girl Hunter looks appraisingly at the naked figure, then cups her hand around the testicles, shrunken in death, and hefts them. Grinning lasciviously, she bats the shriveled penis with a finger. This brings a tense hoot of laughter from the family.

The victims clothes are carried to a huge pile of garments near the cavern wall. Some of the garments are moldy and decaying, others are in good condition. No one remembers why the clothes are to be so carefully removed from the corpses, only to be casually tossed on the pile and forgotten, but years of tradition dictate the procedure.

Several of the younger children pick up the new clothes and examine them. One puts on the hat and steps into the boots. They are much too large, and the child stumbles about, looking ridiculous. Another child puts on a leather vest that hangs almost to the ground and struts proudly, hoping to attract attention.