Reece
REECE FLUTTERED IN and out of consciousness. The first time, he’d woken to pitch darkness and the drone of an engine. The second time, he’d tried in vain to roll over to diminish a piercing stab in his shoulder. This time, he focused on the pain and used it to remain conscious. Disoriented and groggy, he tried again to move. He had no sensation in his lower extremities. He was paralyzed and blind. There was just the pulsing agony in his head and the burning in his shoulders. His stomach clenched and bile burned his throat. Swallowing, he counted every torturous throb that pounded his skull, willing himself to keep his breath slow and steady. His mouth was dry and his nose was congested. Reece cleared his mind of panicked chaos and assessed his physical symptoms with detachment. He had been drugged.
Something covered his face. He stuck out his tongue and gagged on fuzzy fibres. A woollen cap. That was why he couldn’t see. A faint aroma of lemon clung to the wool. With painful sluggishness, his eyes adjusted to the minimal light. Through the tiny gaps in the yarn, he detected the lit dashboard of a car and the silhouette of bucket seats. He was in the rear seat of a moving vehicle, lying on his side.
With excruciating slowness, Reece began to stiffen and relax his muscles, starting with his deltoids and working down his arms. When he could wiggle his fingers, he tried to separate his wrists. Strong restraints cut into his flesh. Fighting off spasms of nausea, he tightened and loosened his abdominal muscles. The car bounced over a pothole. His right leg twitched. Concentrating, he flexed his foot. His abductor hadn’t restrained his ankles. Before they reached their destination, he had to gain control of his lower limbs. And he had to see his target. Reece didn’t need his drug-addled mind and failed memory to fill in the blanks. The Frozen Statue Killer had taken him.
Careful to remain silent, he rubbed his cheek against the seat and nudged the mask up. It caught on his chin but he wiggled until it lifted over his mouth. He pressed his feet on the door and raised his head. As he straightened his legs, his body moved an inch. Lowering his head, he pulled back, and the mask shifted above his nose. A little further and he’d free his eyes.
The car stopped. Reece rolled onto his back and prepared to strike, hoping his hearing would alert him to the right moment to kick.
Rather than opening the passenger side door, however, she came for him from the other side. She clutched his shoulders and dragged him out of the car headfirst. He fell in a heap. Ice scraped his bound hands and seeped down his neck.
“Stand,” she said.
The barrel of a gun pressed against his temple. Without his hands, Reece had to roll onto his belly and get his knees beneath him. He rose to a crouch and stood on wobbly legs. She shoved him in the small of his back.
“Walk.”
Snow covered his ankles as he shuffled through drifts. His pant legs rode up and ice melted in stinging needles against his naked calves.
She grabbed his shoulder and kicked the back of his knee.
“Climb. Three stairs.”
He stumbled up the stairs, tottered to keep his balance, and careened into a solid barrier. Keys tinkled. A door opened. She heaved him inside. A horrendous odour of sewage and decay caused Reece to retch. She tugged off his mask. It made no difference. There was no light.
“Walk.”
Completely blind, Reece took a few shuffling steps. She wrenched him in a different direction, pushing him after every step.
“Stop.”
A door opened.
“Down the stairs.”
Unable to see through the oppressive darkness or use his hands, Reece slid his right foot against the floor to locate the first stair. When his toe extended into air, he took a cautious step down. Using his feet to measure, he calculated the ratio of riser height and tread depth. The stairs were narrow and the slope was steep. Hoping to find a wall to guide him, he swung his foot. Nothing. He tried the other side with the same result. Reece envisioned a steep, freestanding staircase. Keeping to the middle of the stairs, he slowly descended three steps. Terrified to lose his balance, he leaned back and positioned his weight on his heel. He glided his right foot to the edge and took another hesitant step down.
She clouted his head.
Reece pitched forward. His feet flew out from under him and he plunged down the stairs. He twisted his body and pulled up his legs. His bound wrist struck the sharp edge of a step as he plummeted to the ground. There was an audible crack. Intense agony encased his hand and lower arm. His shoulder hit the ground with a sickening crunch. He tucked his head and rolled.
Reece lay winded and battered, his wrist a throbbing mass of burning pain, and his shoulder numb.
Bright fluorescent light flooded the room. Blinking, he got to his knees and lifted his head.
In front of the staircase was a metal cage. Inside the chain-link enclosure, Bart sat on the dirt floor. Slumped outside his cage was a body, but it was so beaten and ravaged that Reece couldn’t tell if it was male or female.
Four empty cages stood between Bart and another young man. He stood staring with wide blue eyes. Long blond hair curled around his narrow face. He threaded his fingers through the links but said nothing. His expression was dead and a thin line of saliva dripped from the corner of his gaping mouth.
“You bitch,” Aleksia growled, staring down at the body outside Bart’s cage.
“Don’t touch her.” Bart’s eyes lifted and his jaw dropped. “Reece,” he whispered.
The figure on the floor turned. Reece gasped. Blood caked Angel’s face. Her right eye was a swollen slit between puffy pockets of discoloured flesh. Her crushed nose angled to the side and blood caked the bridge. Clumps of matted hair clung to deep lacerations on her cheeks. Her lower lip was split open to her chin and dried yellow pus encrusted the flaps of tissue. A knob of blackened bone protruded from her lower leg, which was bloated and swollen to twice its size. The fabric of her torn jeans was stiff with blood. Yellow and green pus oozed from open wounds on the top of her foot. The toes were black with rot.
One eye gazed up at him. Angelina’s lips twitched into a grotesque grin. “Sarah promised you’d come,” she whispered.
Aleksia kicked her in the head. The cage rattled as Angel’s skull whipped back.
Reece roared and scrambled to his feet. With his hands still restrained behind his back, he charged. Aleksia turned and raised her gun. A deafening shot rang out and Reece fell beside Angel. There was no pain. A sense of warmth blanketed his chest. Bart’s screams faded to a dim echo. A second shot fired. Sticky warmth sprayed Reece’s face. His breath wheezed. The fluorescent lights blurred to a bubble of white. There were no regrets, just floating serenity.
A black dot materialized inside the white light. It grew until it surrounded him with silence and peace.