headed into the bedroom without further discussion. The clock was ticking.
Christine felt a slap on her thigh. Then she heard a voice, very near her, shouting over the white noise.
"Christine, nod to answer me," shouted the Wrangler. "Did anyone talk to you while he was fucking you?"
Christine had felt a sheer spark of terror at the slap on her thigh -- she was literally floating in a sea of fear, certain that at any moment, she would be killed. But terrified as she was, she nodded "Yes." The terror had a strange emotional numbing effect on her. She was so overwhelmed by the fear that she didn't have any emotion or thought to spare, so she responded unthinkingly.
She felt hands moving around her head, then suddenly, the ball gag was pulled out of her mouth.
"What did he say to you?" the voice shouted.
Christine gagged and coughed reflexively after the gag was gone. Her jaw felt stiff and unwieldy after being forced open for so long, and she moved it around, trying to get some feeling back.
"He said he was going to kill me," Christine reported. It felt strangely satisfying to say so, as if the opportunity to tell on him for making such a threat alone was a victory of some kind, even though she doubted if the other captors cared.
"Did he say anything else?" shouted the Wrangler over the white noise.
"No," she said.
She felt hands on her head again, and something pressing against her mouth.
"Please ..." she said, meaning to say, "Please don't gag me, I won't scream or anything, I promise." But she felt the gag pressed relentlessly into her mouth, forcing her sore jaws open, secured there, and she was as helpless and silent as before.
As soon as the gag was back in place, the Wrangler and the Cleaner left the room.
"Satisfied?" asked the Wrangler.
The Cleaner looked thoughtful, nodded.
"You have a rep for being on the level," said the Cleaner. "Let's get outta here."
"Fine, I'll get the bag for the girl and we'll go," said the Wrangler.
"Be faster and safer to leave her," the Cleaner said.
"Not much faster, and in the long term, a lot more dangerous," said Wrangler. "Now that the Man has changed the game, our chances of being caught go up a lot, which means out chances of facing a murder rap go up if she dies."
"Good point," said the Cleaner.
"Plus, I'm pissed at the Man for planning to kill me," said the Wrangler. "I don't want any of his plans to work, right up until I put a bullet in his skull."
"I'm with you there," said the Cleaner.
The Wrangler went out to the car and pulled a bag out of his trunk. It was a round leather suitcase, looking like one of the containers that marketing types used to haul the props for their dog and pony shows around in. Because that's what it was.
Christine felt her thigh slapped again.
"Don't worry," said a voice. "We think the guy who told you he's going to kill you plans to kill us, too, with a bomb planted somewhere hereabout. So we're all going to get the hell out of here."
Christine felt a surge of pure joy at these words. She would live! She would live!
The relief was literally inexpressible. It was pure joy that matched the dread that had enfolded her a few moments ago measure for measure. The relief was overwhelming.
She felt hands undoing the fetters that held her to the bed. She desperately wanted to resist, to escape, but hours spent lying with her legs in a split and having men many times her size pounding on her crotch while her legs were secured wide apart had left her legs cramped and so stiff that they were unable to move at all. She just laid their passively as her captor slowly bent her legs at the knees. He seemed to understand that her legs would be cramped.
Then he tied her ankles together and then tied her ankles to her thighs with several strands of rope. It hurt when he bent her legs so severely after having them stretched out for so long, it hurt a lot. But all she could do about it was mmph into her gag.
She felt another rope being secured
Learning to Kill: Stories