Long Dead Road by Andy Conway & Jack Turner

Author:Andy Conway & Jack Turner [Conway, Andy & Turner, Jack]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Wallbank Books
Published: 2024-04-14T00:00:00+00:00

37

Jack rode the lift up to the top floor holding onto the arm of the businessman. He looked ruffled, his face a bit swollen, but he was pretending to be tough, sniffing at a fat cigar.

The doors opened and they stepped out. He paused and lit his cigar, savouring it. She waited dutifully, letting him play the big man.

When he was ready, they walked under the olive trees, her heels clacking on the marble, and came to the gathering. A select few guests from the party downstairs were seated in a semi-circle. They were all watching Blackwood, who was tied to a wooden chair. He was bloody, semi-conscious. Spit, snot and drool coming off his beaten face.

Rag was going about him with childish glee.

He took a pair of pliers from the table to the side, on which were laid out a range of implements. She shuddered and gagged and noticed the businessman was grinning.

Rag got a firm grip on one of Blackwood’s teeth. The voyeurs all watching, sipping their drinks, amused. It wasn’t the first time they’d been here watching this kind of sick shit. Rag leaned back, trying to get a grip. He pulled and fell back, ripping the tooth right out of his gum.

Blackwood screamed.

Some of the women there winced with delight. The men cackled. Crowe watched with a ghoulish grin. The businessman laughed.

She tried to show no emotion. Don’t let them notice you. Just in case they decide to put you in that chair. She wondered if one day they would, just because they could. She choked back the acid rising in her throat.

“Can I have a go?” said the businessmen.

Crowe nodded. The businessman walked forward, bent down, looked Blackwood in the eye, savouring the moment. All brave now.

“Do you smoke?” he said.

He brushed his cigar ever so gently along Blackwood’s exposed chest. She heard the hiss as it singed his skin, saw the smoke curl into the air above his head, smelt it burn. Blackwood moaned in pain. Tried to lift his arms to fend him off. Couldn’t. The rope taught.

Laughter from the voyeurs. The sick fucks. How often did they come here and watch this kind of horror?

Crowe stepped forward. The businessman came back to her side. She noticed the gun tucked into the waistband of one of Crowe’s men, standing right next to her. If she grabbed it, she could stop this right now. Just grab the gun and start shooting. Kill every fucker that moved. They were all guilty. How many bullets did a gun have? Six? Nine? How many could she kill before it clicked empty and they put her in the chair?

Crowe looked at her now, right at her, and back at Blackwood.

“Poor Blackwood,” he said. “Always the girls that get you in trouble, isn’t it?”

Sniggers from the others.

“Yeah, girls,” said Rag. “Fucking paedo.”

“Did you think you could just go on a tour of the provinces, picking us all off one by one? And we’d just sit there and take it?”

Blackwood looked like he was too busy trying to breathe to engage in conversation.

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