Chains by Jon Richter

Author:Jon Richter [Richter, Jon]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bloodhound Books

22

Camilla Santos

(Sex worker)

For a moment, Camilla had thought she was going to die. The terror did not come at the point when Ricky, that bastard, had hit her so hard she was sure he’d broken her nose. It did not come even when he’d driven like such a maniac she’d been flung into the opposite wall and smashed her nose again, leaving a bloody imprint on the van’s interior. Sitting in the back of the vehicle as they bumped along, knowing the numbness in her face would soon give way to pain, she’d watched the blood dripping slowly, thickly, down to the floor between her feet. Like her life, ebbing away. She knew she probably needed to go to hospital, but there was no way Ricky would take her in a million years. At least there were painkillers back at the House.

No, the fear for her life came along with the almighty impact, not a crash but a crunch, when the van and her temporary prison cell were propelled suddenly forwards, this time not launching her into the far wall but pressing her into her seat as the vehicle yawed sideways, cracking her skull against the metal. That pain came immediately, as if an axe had been driven into the back of her head. Even as the vehicle came to rest, tilted at a 45-degree angle both downwards and to the left, the space around her continued to spin, spots of brightness and agony exploding in the dim light around her like someone was setting off fireworks on her retinas.

For a while, she thought she would pass out, but the sound of a horn blaring insistently outside seemed to demand that she stayed awake, reminding her she’d been in a crash. You need to get out, it shrieked. Ricky might be dead, and the van might be about to catch fire, and you’ll be trapped inside and roasted alive. She staggered to her feet, feeling like she was in one of those haunted houses where the floors and perspectives are distorted. She moved first towards the driver’s end of the van, where a little latticed grille allowed light to filter into the cargo area. Such precious cargo, she thought, so delicately handled. She snorted a laugh, a bright bubble of blood inflating from one nostril, summoning fresh blitzkriegs of pain as it burst. Her whole head was aching now, like a shattered vase glued clumsily back together.

‘Ricky?’ she called. He didn’t answer. She realised the sound of the horn was coming from the van itself, not outside. ‘Ricky, are you all right?’ Still nothing. ‘I… I think I need an ambulance,’ she slurred, sagging to her haunches as the van seemed to tilt again. Maybe it had, and it was rolling down the side of a steep hill, and the moment of her death had merely been delayed. Tumbling down a ravine would be the perfect final flourish for the pitiless narrative God had woven for her.

The spinning stabilised. She

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.