I was chained to him by the throat.
Picture this: an underground vault that’s big—really big—like the inside of a church. Running the entire length of that vault is a twenty-foot-wide channel of fast-flowing water. The water is black. The sound it makes is the roar of an angry beast. I’m lying there, staring at him. Around my neck is a steel collar. Running from the collar is a chain that’s ten feet long. The other end of the chain is padlocked to a steel collar around the neck of the man that lies unconscious on a concrete slab. The stranger’s got the muscular build of a pro wrestler and long wild-man-of-the-woods hair. He wears one of those all-in-one white paper suits that murder suspects are given when their clothes have been taken away to be examined for their victim’s blood. Even though he’s asleep he radiates BRUTAL. Terror turns my blood to ice. I look up at the lights bolted to the curving brickwork that forms the ceiling and ask myself aloud:
“How did I get here?”
The man’s eyelids snapped open to reveal blazing eyes. They were storms of rage. He lurched to his feet and ran.
“Stop!” I yelled. “Stop! You’ll break my neck!”
The Goliath kept on running. The slack went from the chain that connected my neck to his neck. It snapped tight so violently sparks flashed from the links. The next moment, I found myself being dragged across the floor, my entire body skittering across the concrete. The pain in my neck was so vicious I screamed. All I could do was grip on to the chain with both hands and submit to being hauled along.
Goliath hurtled through that huge underground vault, which channeled the river. My shouts and the bellow of rapids echoed back at me. The man in the white coverall didn’t even seem to know I was shackled to him. He’d almost reached the end of the vault when he noticed something to his left. Changing direction, he thundered into a side chamber built from the same bricks that oozed damp and slime. Of course, I kept yelling and, of course, he either couldn’t hear me or ignored me. Then I saw what Goliath had found.
A guy of around fifty stood with his back to the wall. He wore a high-visibility vest in Day-Glo yellow. Maybe he worked on maintenance down here. When he saw Goliath, his eyes bulged in horror. He was terrified of the beast-man hurtling toward him, dragging me by the chain.
The man in the hi-viz vest didn’t run away. He couldn’t. He’d been chained to the wall. All he could do was scream—that’s what he did. Loud and piercing enough to hurt my ears.
Goliath seized the man’s face in one huge, meaty hand. Then he smashed his victim’s head against the brickwork. Not just once, but over and over. Sweet God in heaven, the force of those blows shattered bone. Blood splashed outward in a sunburst pattern of crimson streaks. The skull stopped being a skull. Instead, it resembled a soft, floppy thing, like an empty cloth bag, and it steamed in the cold air.
Vest guy slumped down dead, supported only by the shackles fixed to his wrists. One eye shone whitely through an ugly mess that was red, and wet, and dripping. Goliath stepped back, nodded in the way men do when important work has been done, and done well—and that’s when he turned and looked at me.
I’d been commissioned to take photographs for a newspaper article called “Leeds After Dark.” So I’d headed out at night to capture images of those city streets, teeming with people as they headed to bars, or restaurants. I clearly remember heading toward the train station, intending to photograph revelers making for home. That’s the last thing I did remember until I woke to find myself in that huge crypt of a place, with its surging river, and—most alarming of all—discovering that I’d been chained to nightmare man.
Moments later, he’d murdered a guy chained to a wall. I felt sick. Goliath had destroyed the man’s skull. This had to be the worst thing I’d seen in my entire life. Even after death the corpse twitched. The dead man’s dentures slipped out through his bloody lips with a wet plopping sound and fell onto the floor.
Now Goliath looked at me, and I thought, I’m next.
While the giant had been busily mutilating his victim’s head I’d managed to get to my feet. Of course, I couldn’t run away because I was shackled to him. And I sure couldn’t fight the guy, either—he was a walking slab of muscle. All I could do was wait for him to make the first move. He lurched forward, keeping those fiery eyes of his locked on to my face. The chain went slack between us. He reached out and, oh, yes, I thought about the way he grabbed vest guy’s face and broke his skull against the wall. The thick fingers flashed through the air straight at me. I swore they made a whistling sound, they moved that fast. Then he did a strange thing. He felt the collar and the padlock that secured the chain to my neck. At the same time, the fingers of his other hand explored the padlock and collar around his neck. His eyes scanned my face as he did this.
It’s like he believes my face is a mirror, and he’s seeing his own reflection. That observation was followed by another one that felt red-hot and dangerous inside my head: He’s insane. He’s a psycho. See the white paper suit? He must have escaped from prison. Yes, I was sure that was the truth, but it still didn’t answer the biggest questions of all: Who brought me down here? Why did they chain me to Goliath? What’s expected of me?
Goliath stopped groping the metal fastenings around my neck. Here it comes: He’s going to kill me. My terror felt like a ball of ice that was growing bigger and bigger inside my chest.
The big man, however, suddenly lost interest in me. He strolled back through the vault. I grabbed the chain as he took up the slack to prevent myself from being yanked forward by my neck. Clearly, I must follow, or I’d simply be dragged along anyway. He approached the river. Once there, he knelt down, leaned forward, and scooped water with the palm of his hand. I heard the loud slurping even above the roar of all that black water shooting by.
As I waited for him to finish, I realized that if I was going to survive I’d have to keep my emotions under control. It was vitally important that I use every ounce of willpower to keep my cool and NOT panic. The guy in the yellow vest had screamed in terror. Had that triggered Goliath’s rage? I just didn’t know. Keeping calm, however, seemed the best option, because no way could I tackle him with my bare hands. We were chained neck to neck by ten feet of hard steel links. I’d have to use my brains to get out of this alive. Or those brains of mine would end up smeared all over the wall like those of poor, dead vest guy.
That thought had a strange effect on me. I wanted to laugh out loud. Or did I want to start crying? Either way, my throat twitched as the sound tried to escape.
Keep quiet, I told myself. Do nothing to provoke him. Try and be invisible. Remember when he seemed to be looking at you as if you were his reflection in a mirror? Maybe he’s so crazy that he doesn’t even view you as an individual. What if he sees you as merely part of himself? That could be the key to you getting out of here in one piece.
Goliath still scooped water from the channel and slurped. Murder is thirsty work. I had to push my fist against my teeth so hard they creaked. Bizarrely, I felt an overwhelming need to laugh out loud. Nerves…it’s got to be nerves. Examine where you are, occupy your mind. JUST DO NOT LAUGH. Because laughing will be the DEATH of you.
So while he guzzled that disgusting-looking water I focused on my surroundings: a curving brick roof twenty feet above my head. The river entered through one archway and exited at another. There were no lights in the tunnels beyond the archways, so the water rushed from darkness into light, then back into darkness again. The underground chamber was downright sinister. There were formidable iron structures at either side of the river, along with pipework and machinery. Was this a pumping station? If so, then this place would most likely be located beneath a viaduct in Leeds that’s known as the Dark Arches. This is where rain and groundwater flowed after being collected and channeled by the city’s drains. So that put the town directly above my head. There’d be cars running along roads up there, people walking to pubs, lovers embracing on street corners. All that activity, just a few feet above the brick ceiling. And here I am: a prisoner. Chained to Lord Nightmare. I hope that drain water makes him sick. No, may it choke him. For a moment a kind of madness gripped me. While he’s kneeling down drinking, push him in. He’ll drown. He can’t hurt you then.
Thankfully, a shot of common sense came my way. Yeah, but what happens to me? I’m chained to him. I’d be pulled in. I’d drown, too.
So this must be part of the drainage system under the Dark Arches. The pumps no doubt kicked in when there was heavy rain. The river’s exit tunnel was covered by a grille, acting as a filter to trap debris. I noticed a steel frame had been bolted to the roof, while hanging from that was a huge metal claw the size of a car. This claw must be used to keep the mesh clear of fast-food cartons, sticks, cans, and all the crap that’s washed down from the streets. In fact, a pile of tree branches and a jumble of debris formed a mound on the concrete floor close to the exit tunnel. That must be where the claw dumped whatever it grabbed from the water. That planted a seed of hope. Maybe maintenance workers would come down here to operate the claw. They’d find me and the man-monster. In no time at all, the police would be here. I’d be guided to safety with a blanket around me and a cup of hot coffee in my hands, while Goliath headed to jail. That optimistic thought made me feel warm inside. Yes, maybe, just maybe…
The killer grunted in a satisfied way. He’d liked his sewer juice, because no doubt there’d be some of that in there, too. He stood up facing the river and pulled down the zipper of the blood-spattered coverall. I kept absolutely still. I didn’t look as he urinated. After zipping up again, he lay down flat on the concrete and closed his eyes.
“My God.” I whispered the words aloud in amazement. “He’s going to sleep.”
Remaining absolutely still, I waited. He lay there on his back as if he’d settled down onto a comfy mattress. And, yes, his chest began to rise and fall in that steady way, which indicated he’d fallen asleep—actually fallen asleep here in this noisy, wet cavern of a place.
I immediately attacked the padlock that was fixed to the steel collar around my neck. If I could force it open, or pry apart a link…
“It’s no good. You won’t be able to free it.”
The woman’s voice shocked me so much I thought my backbone would snap right out. My head swiveled as I searched for her.
“Here,” she hissed, “on the other side.”
I saw a green box on the far side of the culvert. The box, which probably housed machinery of some kind, stood about five feet in height, and there, above it, was something that I hadn’t expected to encounter down here: a woman of around thirty with short black hair. She wore a strapless dress and makeup for a night out. She was clearly frightened and extremely wary as she peered back at me from above the casing. The way her head and the upper part of her body were visible hinted that she stood on something on the other side in order to get a better view.
She angled her head as she studied Goliath. “He is asleep, isn’t he?”
“As far as I can tell,” I replied. “Who are you?”
“One of you, I suppose. A prisoner. Look.” She raised her hands, revealing that her wrists were manacled together. Another chain fastened her to the metal casing.
“My name’s John.” I whispered, because I didn’t want to wake the murderer. Even so, the roar of water flowing through the vault meant the whisper had to be a loud one, otherwise the woman wouldn’t hear me.
“I’m Katy.”
“How long have you been down here?”
“Just over three hours.”
“Who brought you?”
“I don’t know. One moment I was near the bus station, the next thing I knew I was waking up here, chained to this box.”
“Did you see who brought me here?”
Instead of answering, she asked nervously, “Are you sure he’s asleep?”
“Goliath? Sleeping like a baby.”
“How do you know he’s called Goliath?”
“I don’t.” I shrugged. “Though it seems as good a name as any.”
“Kill him. Kill Goliath.”
“How?” Her sudden demand to slaughter the guy shocked me. “I don’t have a weapon. And have you seen the size of him?”
“You’ve got to.”
I glanced at splashes of blood drying on his face. Had Katy seen the death of vest guy? A moment later came confirmation that she had, when she told me that she’d watched Goliath drag me along by the chain before going crazy and smashing his victim’s head to bits against the wall. Katy knew the guy was dangerous. She’d clearly decided that the only certain way to prevent our violent deaths was to terminate Goliath’s life. Yet putting an end to Goliath wouldn’t be easy.
Meanwhile, I tried my earlier question again. “Katy, did you see who brought me down here and who chained me to him?”
“Sorry. When I heard sounds I hid behind this box thing. By the time I dared look again you were lying on the floor near him. Goliath. I was going to call across to you, but when he awoke I was too frightened. I don’t want him coming across the river to get me.”
“That’s understandable.”
“He’s still asleep, isn’t he?”
I checked Goliath. The steel collar around his neck glinted as his chest rose and fell. “Seems like it.” I moved closer to him, stretching out my hand, ready to touch his leg, then thought better of it. Even so, the chain links that connected us together made a rattling sound and his head moved sharply, suggesting that he’d heard something other than the water gushing along its channel. And yet his eyes didn’t open and soon that rhythmic rise and fall of the chest indicated pretty clearly that he continued sleeping.
“Don’t disturb him,” Katy whispered, obviously very scared. “He might get nasty if he’s woken up.”
“Get nasty? He’s already nasty.”
She nodded. “That’s why we’ve got to get out of here.”
“I agree. The question is: How?”
A voice answered me that wasn’t Katy’s.
“What’s more, we need to do it before sleeping beauty wakes up.”
“Who’s that?” I asked.
“Over here. Behind you.”
I looked back to see a young man with curly hair peering out of a recess in the brickwork.
“I’ve been listening to you,” he said. “My name’s Nev.”
He was a captive, too, chained to the wall. Like Katy, Nev wasn’t shackled to another prisoner. Apparently I was the only one to get buddied up with someone else. He explained that he’d only just woken and hadn’t seen either of us being brought in here. He told us that he worked at night, riding a pizza-delivery scooter. When he’d left an apartment block after making a delivery he thought he’d felt a pain in the back of his shoulder, but he wasn’t certain.
“Even so,” he said, “I think I was injected with something that knocked me out.”
“I don’t remember being injected,” I said.
“Nor me,” added Katy. “But what if the drug caused short-term amnesia as well as rendering us unconscious?”
“You mean the drug actually erases memory of the injection?”
“It’s possible.”
Nev peeped out from his recess. “Katy’s right, you know? What she said earlier? You’ve got to kill big feller there before he kills us.”
“How?”
Nev leaned out a little more, revealing the manacles on his wrists. “Kick him as hard as you can, John. Kick him in the head. Keep on kicking.”
“That guy’s head will be as hard as granite. If I don’t knock him unconscious with the first kick he’ll tear me apart.”
“I’d do it, if I was as close as you.”
“I bet you would.” The way I said it plainly sang out: I bet you damn well wouldn’t!
Nev got all twitchy as excitement fizzed inside him. “Choke the bastard to death. Use the chain.”
“Yeah, right.”
“Stick your fingers in his eyes. Blind him.”
“Why don’t you just ride over him on your pizza-delivery scooter?”
“Don’t argue, you two,” Katy whispered. “John, please, we must do something. If we don’t, he’s going to hurt us.”
“Okay. Okay. Let me think.”
“Stand on his throat.”
“Nev, shush—just shush, all right?”
What if I could drive my fingers into Goliath’s eye sockets? Maybe I could gouge away until he couldn’t see? I’d have the advantage then. Sighted vs. Unsighted = no contest.
I took a deep breath. “Okay, both of you stay quiet. Here goes.”
I took a step toward the sleeping killer. He didn’t move, so I took another step. Now…if I jab both my thumbs into his eyes at the same time… Then disaster struck. A loud clank reverberated around the chamber. This was followed by the hum of electric motors.
“The claw!” Nev shouted.
Goliath’s eyes snapped open and he was up on his feet in a heartbeat. Instantly Nev and Katy vanished from sight. They didn’t want the psycho spotting them.
His fierce gaze raked the place, searching for the source of the clanking sound. When he saw the huge steel claw, which must have been big enough to hoist a car, he immediately marched toward it. He dragged me along without even noticing I was there. I grunted as the collar painfully jerked me forward. All I could do was follow. He approached the pile of detritus that must have been dumped by the claw on earlier occasions.
Goliath watched the machine at work. Cables lowered the claw into the water, so that it clunked up against the metal grille that covered the river’s exit tunnel. Sticks, branches, plastic bags, bottles—all kinds of junk had accumulated there, after being washed into drains by rainfall earlier in the day. There was even a child’s sit-on tractor made from bright red plastic. Goliath carefully watched as cables lowered the open claw from the ceiling until it splashed down into the river. Now cogs spun as they closed the massive claw around debris that had accumulated in front of the grating. This was like a gigantic version of those machines found at funfairs where children use a claw to try and grab toys from inside a glass case. A moment later, the cables hoisted the claw upward. Water cascaded from its booty that had been grabbed from the river. The claw then trundled along a rail that hung beneath the basement’s ceiling until it was over the concrete deck. There the claw opened. All kinds of debris fell from the claw to hit the concrete with a splattering sound. Branches, cans, rags, massive clumps of green riverweed, the child’s tractor. Then something else hit the concrete with a loud slap.
Goliath stared at the objects. I stared, too. Because there were two corpses. A pair of women, with drenched hair sticking to their faces, and their eyes wide open. What I noticed more than anything else were their collars. They were chained together at the neck, too.
The giant lurched forward, those massive hands outstretched. He grasped the ten-foot chain that connected the two dead women to each other and dragged the corpses from the pile of wet junk that the claw had scooped from the river.
I started in horror. My God. Those two women had been chained together, too, just like Goliath and me. One of the women was probably in her twenties, with red hair and wearing a green silk dress. The other woman, forty or so, wore the uniform of a bus driver. Their faces were scratched, and their fingernails had been ripped from their fingers.
“They fought a battle before they died.” I was so shocked I actually uttered the words aloud, forgetting that I was trying to remain invisible to my chain buddy. “Did they fight each other?”
Goliath grunted loudly. The bodies interested him. Crouching down, he examined the steel collars, and fingered the padlocks that secured the chains as well as locking the collars in place. He slapped the face of the redhead, perhaps believing he could wake her.
No way, I thought. She’s dead as a beached fish. That’s when the man paused with a thoughtful expression. He touched the collar on his own neck, grunting in a beastlike way (so far I hadn’t heard him say a single word). He seemed to be understanding that he was chained in the same way. In fact, he did something that sent ice blasting through my veins. His eyes focused on the chain links closest to his own throat, then he followed the chain with his gaze. Soon his eyes would track all along the chain until they found my face at the other end. What then? A smile and a friendly nod? Hardly. He’s likely to rip my face off. I’d seen how he’d mutilated his victim just minutes ago.
He began to grunt with excitement as his eyes followed the links toward my face at the other end. Any minute now, he’s going to—
“Hey, John! I found a screwdriver back here!”
My eyes darted toward Nev. The pizza-delivery boy leaned out from the recess, brandishing a screwdriver with a long shaft.
“John!” His yell combined dread and triumph. “I’ll throw the screwdriver to you. Kill the psycho. Stab him! Stab his eyes and face! Kill the bastard! Here! CATCH!”
Nev tossed the screwdriver in my direction. What an absolutely useless, terrible throw. The screwdriver hit the concrete floor five feet from me, bounced once, and rolled over the edge of the channel into the river. My mouth dropped open in astonishment. The screwdriver had vanished.
Nev groaned. “Oh, crap.”
I expected Goliath to throw himself at me in nothing less than murderous fury. Instead, however, he sprinted toward the recess where Nev had been shackled. The chain snapped tight, and I nearly flew through the air after locomotive man in front of me. Wherever Goliath went I had to follow.
I wonder if Nev regretted what he did. Or if he had the chance to curse himself for such an inept throw that sent the screwdriver into the river. Maybe such musing is academic, because Nev died quickly. Goliath punched him in the face. After the second punch, Nev begged for his life. The third punch slammed into the side of his head. No blood came out of his nose or his mouth, but a gush of crimson liquid spurted from the kid’s ears. A hemorrhage, I guess. Either way, he didn’t live long after that. His eyes went dull, the eyelids drooped, and he flopped down in the recess. Only the wrist shackles kept him upright. Goliath kicked Nev so hard in the chest that I heard the kid’s ribs give a loud SNAP! I don’t know how old Nev was when he died, but he couldn’t have been more than twenty.
Katy had seen everything. Now she couldn’t stop herself. All self-control went. So overwhelming was her fear, she went berserk.
Even that mighty Goliath paused to watch her in surprise as she tossed her head, flailed her arms, trying to break the manacles, and screamed as loud as she could. Despite everything, the man still hadn’t noticed me even though we were chained to each other. Once again, I realized that his psychotic mind considered me to be part of him, seeing as we were linked by those dozens of shining loops. In any event, he didn’t appear to see me as he gave a powerful grunt of excitement. This was followed by such a leering expression of desire as his eyes feasted on Katy’s beautiful face.
I shouted, “No! Leave her alone! Don’t touch her!”
He didn’t respond to my demands. The nightmare brute didn’t even seem to hear me, let alone realize that I was there at the end of his chain. Straightaway, he lumbered back to the river. Katy tossed her head, convulsing with terror when she saw that the murderer had locked his evil gaze on her. Grunts of excitement blurted from his lips.
“Don’t hurt her!” I shouted.
He didn’t even hear me. Instead, he surged onward, following the line of the watercourse upstream. I held the chain in my hands so that the force of being dragged so ferociously wouldn’t snap my neck. This battle tank in human form dragged me to where a pair of parallel iron girders spanned the river. I realized what my chain buddy intended. He’d use the girders as a bridge to cross to the other side. Katy, meanwhile, knew that she’d be the next victim. She stared at brute boy with absolute dread. Is he going to kill me like he killed Nev? I’m sure that’s what she was thinking. Or is he going to hurt me in other ways first?
For the next ten seconds I had to concentrate on maintaining my balance as I followed Goliath across the girders. Here the roar of the rapids seemed more concentrated. The sound bore deep into my head. The air was colder, too, and that black water far more pungent—smelling as if it had flowed from a pit full of dead and rotten things.
I scrambled up onto the far side of the river as Goliath raced toward the vulnerable woman that was chained to the machinery casing. She shouted for him to keep back. I yelled for him to stop. But Goliath knew what he wanted, and he wanted it now.
Pipes emerged from the floor like iron tree trunks. I tried to cling on to them to prevent the man from reaching Katy. Every attempt to even slow him down ended in failure. He simply kept moving, dragging me along as if I was nothing more substantial than a paper cutout of a man. Then I saw an object leaning against one of the pipes. It appeared to be a discarded iron bracket that had once been fixed to a wall. In sheer desperation, I grabbed it.
“John…oh my God.” She panted the words in terror. “John, please don’t let him hurt me.”
This time I stopped allowing myself to be dragged. I ran toward Goliath. The chain dipped down between us as the tension left it. I sprinted up behind the killer, lifted the heavy bracket above my head, and swung it down as hard as I could. The deadweight of iron cracked against his skull. Momentum carried him forward, but his legs were buckling. He even glanced back at me in surprise, apparently noticing my existence for the first time.
Down he went. THUD. He lay facedown on the floor. His eyes were closed and blood streamed from a gash in his scalp.
“John, you did it! Thank God.”
“Katy…I think I’ve killed him.”
“Good!”
“He’s not moving.” I crouched beside him. “I don’t think he’s breathing.”
Katy recovered her composure. Taking a deep breath, she said, “Can you use that metal thing you hit him with to break the chain?”
“I doubt it, but I might be able to force open the collar or the padlock.”
“Do it, then! Hurry!”
I moved in closer to Goliath. Blood pooled around his head. His skull leaked red stuff onto the concrete.
“Who do you think he is…was?” I asked.
Katy didn’t care. “Try snapping his collar. Go on, it’s not as if he’ll feel any pain, will he?”
“This paper suit he’s wearing…they give those to crime suspects when their clothes have been taken away to be examined in a laboratory. Do you think he might have escaped from prison? What if he’s a famous serial killer? Or what if he was normal like us and he’s been injected with a drug that’s made him crazy?”
“Please, John, get me out of this dungeon.”
“He killed people down here.”
“And we’d have been next.”
“Katy, did you see the bodies of those two women? They were chained together at the neck like me and him. Do you think they were forced to fight each other?”
“This isn’t the time for speculation. We need to focus on the living—us!”
“They must have been abducted, too. Could this be some kind of experiment?”
“John, snap out of it! Once you get that collar off, come and free me. Okay?”
“Okay.”
I set aside those troubling notions and got down to work, pushing the sharpest end of the metal bracket into the collar where it hinged at the back of Goliath’s neck. Perhaps the hinge is the weakest part? I might be able to break it and open the collar up. Then I’ll separate myself from this monster. Those thoughts poured through my head as I worked, levering, then twisting the bracket, trying to snap the hinge pin. I still worked at the collar when I noticed that something had changed.
His eyes were now open. So he wasn’t dead after all. That killer of men twisted around in order to glare at me. He roared with fury. I climbed to my feet as he rose to his knees. I used the bracket as if it were a hammer, smashing it down onto the top of his skull. Once, twice, three times. It had no effect whatsoever. He got to his feet, all the time staring at me with total hatred.
Oh, yes, he saw me now. And he despised what he saw.
Goliath snatched the bracket from my hand. I recoiled from him, panicky and ready to run. Though I couldn’t run far. I managed five paces before the chain snapped tight. The collar dug in deep, hurting my Adam’s apple.
You’re in trouble now. I remember thinking those actual words. You hurt him, so he’s going to hurt you.
He didn’t chase me. He simply gripped that iron bracket between his teeth, like an old-time pirate with a knife blade clamped in his mouth. After that, he pulled the chain hand over hand. A psycho fisherman hauling in his human catch…dear God, this was going to hurt…
Katy yelled: “John! Kill him!”
“How?” My throat hurt and I had to choke out the words. “What with?”
“Think of something! He’ll kill us both!”
How right that woman was. When I was close enough, he released the links, plucked the iron bracket from between his teeth, and swung at me as if using a scythe. I flinched back, and that chunk of iron missed my chin by a mere inch. I ducked down as he swung again. This time he came stomping toward me, swinging the heavy bracket with enough force to explode my skull if it struck its target.
I tried dodging around the vertical pipes that soared upward out of the floor. In a helpless, despairing kind of way, I hoped the links would catch on a protrusion, or he’d somehow get the chain tangled, which would prevent him from murdering me. Yes, hopeless, futile…he just kept on coming. Meanwhile, Katy shrieked. She’d found real strength in her voice and the woman used that screech like it was some kind of sonic weapon.
I was breathless, my legs turned weak and rubbery. The energy just bled out of my body. I couldn’t avoid him for long. Not when we were manacled neck to neck.
Just when I thought the pitch of Katy’s screeches couldn’t go any higher, they did just that. Goliath stopped dead. Grimacing, he shook his head, while pressing the palm of one hand to an ear.
Katy started yelling for help, hoping someone would come from outside the vault. The sound hurt the guy. He shook his head in the same way a dog does when it hears a whistle that’s so piercing that it causes the animal pain. All of a sudden, he stopped chasing me. He wanted rid of that awful sound. Once again, I found myself dragged behind loco-man as he lurched in the direction of Katy. He’d deal with her first. I knew that as sure as the sun will rise tomorrow.
Katy knew that she was his next target, too.
“Oh, God. No…no, please, no.”
Just thirty feet or so separated the woman from her executioner. Katy tried to break the chain that secured her to the metal housing of some machine or other; however, the links were far too strong to be broken by human hands. She couldn’t run away, she couldn’t fight him. But she knew she must do something other than wait for the metal bracket to smash her skull. Quickly, she scrambled up onto the metal casing, which was around five feet in height. What she hoped to gain from doing that I just didn’t know. The chain that shackled her to the box wasn’t a long one. Perhaps she hoped she could keep squirming around on top of that casing, and avoid him until help arrived from outside.
Some hope. When Goliath approached, she lay down on the flat top of the box and kicked out at him. He tried grabbing her ankles. She kicked again. This time he caught hold, but she managed to wriggle free, leaving him with one of her shoes in his hand. He tossed the shoe into the river.
Of course, I was dragged along by the man. I couldn’t avoid witnessing what he would do to this squirming, shouting victim. And he hated Katy’s screams. From the way he kept shaking his head and scowling, that piercing shriek tortured his eardrums.
“John…John! Stop him. Don’t let him hurt me.”
“How?”
“Find a way!”
“I’m so sorry, Katy. I’ve tried. The man’s unstoppable.”
Goliath made another grab. She slipped free…just. But she was stuck up there on the metal box. Within seconds, he’d get hold of that creature that inflicted pain on him with its screams. Once he’d got a firm grip on her body, then…well…he could do whatever the hell he wanted to.
Katy worked her way across the top of that block of metal. Meanwhile, the man circled around to the other side, where he could catch her.
Katy shouted, “John! Now’s your chance!”
“I’m sorry. There’s nothing I can do.”
“Yes, there is. Push him into the river!”
“I’ll drown, too.”
“You won’t, John. Believe in yourself. You can do this. You can save us.”
Goliath snatched the hem of her dress. He dragged her toward him, grunting with lusty excitement. His eyes blazed with anticipation.
“John…please!”
“Katy, listen. I’m John York. Remember my name!”
Goliath had a firm grip on her dress now. He hauled Katy toward him. That’s when I finally understood that she’d deliberately maneuvered the big guy into this position. Right now, he was just a step away from the channel where the black liquid roared. I eased myself closer to Goliath. Katy chose that moment to kick out at the psycho’s face. I thought: Okay, it’s now or never. I threw myself out into the river, clutching the chain in both hands, and hoping that my weight would topple him off balance.
I hit the piercingly cold water. The chain snapped tight, almost breaking my wrists. I opened my mouth to yell in pain, and the river slammed through my lips. That water felt as hard as a fist. I came to the surface as Goliath toppled in after me. His huge body made a tremendous splash. I tried to stand, but my feet didn’t hit bottom. By this time, both of us were trying to swim. He was also doing his best to punch my face to a bloody ruin. The force of the current, however, thankfully prevented him from landing blows with his usual bone-cracking power.
Moments later, we slammed into the metal grille that acted as a filter before the river left the vault. Above us the claw hung open, like the jaws of a hungry monster. Those rows of vicious steel teeth could bite a killer whale in half.
We were both pinned against the grille by the brutal force of that current. Black liquid churned and bubbled around the bars. That’s when Goliath decided to drown me. The next thing I knew a hand pressed down on top of my head and down I went. Even though he held me below the surface, I could still hear the roar of water. Bubbles erupted from my lips. I couldn’t hold my breath for much longer. I opened my eyes. The bright electric lamps shot their light down through the water and I made out a horizontal rail that ran in front of the grille. It seemed to be hinged. I could make out electric cabling. A sensor? Did this metal bar react in some way when there was a buildup of debris? The weight of branches and junk being forced against the device might then activate the claw-grab, which then scooped out material that would otherwise block the grille and cause a flood. Of course, I had no way of knowing for sure. All I did know was that my death was just seconds away.
Go for it. It’s your last chance. As Goliath held me down underwater, I managed to turn just enough to allow myself to kick the metal bar. It moved. That’s all I knew. If anything else happened up there in the vault, I couldn’t possibly know.
My chest began to burn. Soon I’d release the air from my lungs, then I’d breathe the water in and drown—as inevitable and as final as that.
I heard nothing. But suddenly the hand was gone. What’s more, the chain pulled tight, drawing me upward by my neck. To avoid being hanged I clung on to the links with both hands. I was being hauled clear of the water. At last I could see everything. The claw must have been activated when I kicked the sensor bar.
Goliath had been seized by the claw. Steel teeth dug into his chest and back. Blood cascaded from a dozen wounds where the points of the claw had penetrated his skin. Cables retracted the device from the river, reeling it back up toward the ceiling. I went with it, hanging by my hands. I could see Goliath through the claw’s metalwork. He was dead, no doubt about it. That formidable bite of the machine had collapsed his chest, crushing his ribs. A shard of pink bone jutted out from the front of the coverall. His lifeless eyes stared at nothing.
I looked back down at Katy as I swung from side to side on the chain. She was laughing with sheer relief and clapping her hands together.
“You did it, John! You’ve saved our lives!”
I’ve never seen such joy before on a human face.
Then the lights went out. Everything crashed to black and I don’t remember anything else.
I didn’t remember anything else, that is, until I woke in the forest. Sunlight streamed down through the branches. Birds called loudly. I smelled the grass where my head rested on the ground. My hands went to my neck.
“Oh, no.”
The steel collar was still there. I felt the links of a chain with my fingertips. Straight away, I scrambled to my feet. I saw the chain running away in front of me into a patch of tall grass. I pulled at the chain, hoping it wouldn’t be connected to anything at the other end, or anyone. The links snapped tight. I groaned. Please, not again. Not Goliath. It can’t be. He’s dead.
The stranger’s head that appeared above the long grass took me by surprise. A young woman with blond hair crouched there. She blinked in the sunlight, like she’d just woken from a deep sleep. Around her neck, a steel collar. Ten feet of chain shackled the stranger and me together here in the forest.
Her eyes opened wide with shock when she saw me.
I spoke gently. “Don’t be frightened. Everything’s going to be all right.”
The woman stood up. She wore a white coverall suit like the one worn by Goliath.
A rattle of chain links came from behind me. A second chain led from my collar at the back. This chain was padlocked to the collar around the neck of a second stranger, who’d stepped out from behind a tree. Then I understood. Someone had shackled the three of us together, with me in the middle. My gaze fixed on the man. He was tall, muscular, and mean-looking. He, too, wore a white coverall. And when he looked at the woman they both smiled as they seemed to reach a secret understanding.