Terminus, p.6
Terminus, page 6
With a deep breath and a muttered, “Here we go,” Gary opened the bolt wide in the clamp and held it over Annie’s big toe. He screwed it down, so the metal grasped onto the digit. Annie wriggled her toe, and the tool clattered to the floor. Gary grunted in frustration and picked it up. He examined it to see if there was any damage done. A small scuff on the Draper logo caught his eye. He growled at the sight and steeled himself.
“This is your mum’s fault that you have to suffer.” Gary slipped the clamp over Annie’s big toe and, with no further hesitation, screwed the clamp down. Her toenail wasn’t visible, but the surrounding area went a bright red colour. Annie screamed, which was muffled behind the duct tape. She tried to wriggle free, a pointless task.
Gary’s shoulder drooped, and he loosened the clamp before it crunched the metatarsal bone. He glared at Annie. “You are lucky tonight. My heart isn’t in it. Make no mistake though, Annie, you are going to suffer.” Gary stood and ripped the duct tape from her mouth. “Anything you want to say?”
Annie glared back. She spoke with a dry, rasping voice, “Screw you. Whoever the hell you are. Coward. I need water. And a pee. You haven’t even left me a bucket for when you aren’t here. Do you expect me to piss myself?”
With an overly dramatic sigh, Gary picked a Stanley knife out of the toolbox. He sliced the four binds. Annie sat and massaged her previously tethered limbs. Trying to encourage better blood flow, pins and needles torturing with a burning sensation. She stood and staggered forward. Gary dropped the knife back into the box and grasped her upper arm.
“Don’t try any funny business. The loo is over there.” He nodded to a door next to the office pod. “I’ll help you there. Even if I had left a bucket, you couldn’t have used it.”
They slowly made their way over to the toilets. Annie coughed and spat a bunch of phlegm onto the warehouse floor as they went. “Is there any need for that bloody tape? It’s made my lips raw.”
“I can’t risk you making a noise … shut up or there’s no toilet or water for you.”
They went into the toilet. Inside were two cubicles, a hand basin, and a paper towel holder. Marker pen graffiti covered the toilet door.
“Let me have some privacy at least,” Annie said, with not a hint of optimism in her voice.
“Sorry, no can do. I don’t want you to try anything shady.”
“Like what, for god’s sake?”
“Bolting the door so you lock me out … just get on with it or you’ll not have the chance again to use the loo.”
“This is bullshit,” Annie grumbled. “I’m just an average woman. I haven’t even got anything worth blackmailing for. Let me go and I promise that I’ll not tell anyone.” She quickly unfastened her trousers and lowered them, along with her undies, and sat on the toilet before Gary could stop her.
“I have my reasons, Annie,” Gary said from behind the balaclava. “Don’t ask too many questions. You won’t like the answers. If I give you any.”
Annie finished and looked at the empty toilet roll holder. She shook her head and stood up. Glancing at Gary, she pulled up her undies and trousers as fast as she could.
“I told you. I have no interest in you sexually. A minge is a minge is a minge. Nothing I haven’t seen before.”
Annie shuddered. The comment felt creepy, even if it was meant to be reassuring.
“There is actually some soap and paper towels here, miraculously. That’s if you care about washing your hands.”
“This is weird. Let me wash my hands so I feel some kind of normality. I wish you’d said about the paper towel, I could have used that as loo roll. You’re an asshole.” In a strangely surreal scene, Annie took her time to wash her hands and patted them dry.
After he had waited for her to finish, Gary grabbed her right arm roughly. He pulled it behind her back and pulled the forearm upwards. Finally, he bent her wrist into a wrist-lock, gripping her elbow with his other hand.
“Back to the chair,” he said forcefully. Annie held her chin up high, as if defying the situation. Gary pushed her pulled up arm forwards, towards her back, and they went directly back to the chair.
She plonked back down into the chair and put her hands back onto the chair arms.
Gary chuckled, “You are learning, Annie. So you do as you are told; eventually. Like mother like daughter.”
Annie didn’t reply for a moment and looked away. “What do you mean, ‘Like mother, like daughter?’”
Gary ignored the question. Most of the warehouse was in pitch black, the powerful lights blocking out what was behind them. In a couple of brief moments, Gary zip-tied her arms and ankles back to the chair and wrapped duct tape around them. He pulled off tape from the roll. “I need some water. Or I’ll probably die. You can’t last long without water.”
Gary slapped the tape over her mouth. “I’ll bring some later. I’m off home now to my comfortable bed for some sleep. Don’t let the bedbugs bite,” he sneered, seemingly the menace that had seeped away after the hospital visit was coming back. He flicked the off switch on the generator, and as the lights went out, he went back to the pod to remove the santa jacket and the balaclava before leaving the warehouse.
It was still freezing outside, dawn several hours away.
Pushkin ran to the house door, from under a snow-laden hedge the moment that Gary pulled into his drive.
She miaowed at him as he walked to the door. “Hi, sweetheart. I’m so glad to see you. It’s been a stressful night.”
Gary slipped the key into the lock and let himself and Pushkin into the house. The home was lovely and warm because of Gary’s love of gadgets. He’d set the thermometer from his mobile phone when he left the hospital. His feet seemed to glide through the house on autopilot to the kitchen.
Gary opened the door on the small tabletop wine fridge, and selected a fifty quid bottle of white wine. The cabinet above the fridge contained a handful of wine glasses. He took one out and watched with satisfaction as the liquid swirled around as it poured in. Pushkin followed him in and wrapped herself through his legs. Gary smiled with warmth at his pet. “It’s hard, Pushkin. She was meant to suffer tonight. It feels a bit wrong though, when her old man is on death’s door. Mind you; she is ignorant of that fact. Like other facts that she’s ignorant of.”
His face clouded over with a dark shadow. Gary took a sip of the wine, and the shadow passed over. He smiled, “This is good, Pushkin. Good job that cats can’t drink it, ‘cos I don’t want to share.” Pushkin miaowed and began to purr.
Gary took the bottle with and grabbed an enormous block of milk chocolate from a cupboard before heading towards his sofa. The label declared it to be a ‘share bar’, but Gary needed to savour the comfort of chocolate melting in his mouth. He sat, gazing into space, and over the course of the next twenty-five minutes, ate all the chocolate and drained the bottle of wine. His eyes became heavy. Pushkin sat on his lap, purring and occasionally kneading with her claws. The cat looked up as Gary murmured, “Let’s see what she’s up to …”
He picked up his mobile phone from the sofa arm and selected an app. A moment later, he was gazing at the screen. It was showing the scene inside Alyson’s living room. Of course, the room was empty. “Still at the hospital, Alyson? It seems that you won’t have to keep up that vigil for long. Hopefully he’ll be dead soon. You deserve the heartache.”
Gary felt his spirits lift at the thought of Mark in dire straits. He lifted Pushkin from his lap and put her onto the floor. “Daddy’s off to bed now. It might be a long day tomorrow.” He stood and made his way to bed.
Inside five minutes, Gary fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.
Chapter Ten
Annie awoke. Her head pounded, like someone had repeatedly struck her. She blinked, the light dull in the unlit warehouse. Her dry eyes stung with every blink. The sun beamed through where the moon had come through in the night and made a circle of light on the floor, not unlike a spotlight on a stage.
Trying to swallow, she found her throat was also overly dry. With a sigh, she let her eyes close. There was no point in trying to struggle. The binds were too tight to budge, and she had felt her strength wane.
Is this what it means to die? I think that there’s a rule of two to survive. Two minutes of oxygen. Two days of water. Two weeks of food. Break the chain and you’ll die. Just who is Santa? Why is he doing this to me? What’s mum got to do with it? At least it’s dry in here. I suppose it could be worse. I’ll be ok. There has to be a way to escape. When he lets me use the toilet later, I’ll do something. Anything. It’s just me and him, so it’s not like there’s a gang to keep me down. Come on, Annie, you can do this.
The sun glared through the window. Gary blinked awake and smiled to himself. Pushkin jumped onto the bed and head butted him with a miaow. She purred and clawed the pillow next to Gary.
“Morning, Pushkin.” Gary wiped away a few stray cat hairs from his cheek and stroked his beloved pet. “It’s looking like a lovely day. Wonder what I should do after breakfast. Don’t need to worry about work, seeing as I’m taking leave. Go and see Annie, or visit Alyson and Mark. Decisions, decisions.”
He stretched, relishing the pain of his aching muscles and the crepitus sound of his arthritic knees.
Gary was in no hurry and pulled a paisley dressing gown on over his podgy body. Breakfast was a full English, the bacon grilled until it was slightly crispy. As always, he cooked a rasher more than he wanted. Pushkin sat by her bowl, ready to accept her human’s gift. Gary smiled as she ate it and licked her lips in thanks. Taking his time, Gary relished his meal. A blackbird singing from an unseen perch in the garden fed his feel-good mood. With a flourish, he mopped up the last little piece of egg yolk, bacon grease and brown sauce with a slice of wholemeal bread. Mirroring his cat, Gary licked his lips and patted his full stomach. His black sugary coffee steamed by his right hand. The warmth was comforting.
Gary idly took his iPhone from the dressing gown’s silky pocket. Without needing to think about how to find what he wanted, he brought up an album of photographs.
An image of Alyson sat behind her desk at work, flicking two fingers up at the camera, made Gary smile. He had known the woman for well over twenty years. It seemed inevitable, fate, that their lives intertwined.
“Sometimes it feels like we were married in another life. We’ve been friends, sometimes with benefits, on and off. I wonder what Mark would think if he knew the kiss that he knows about was just the latest in the great saga of Gary and Alyson … I hope you don’t mind me telling you about this, Pushkin. At least you can keep a secret!” His loyal cat miaowed, as if joining in the conversation.
Gary’s finger worked the screen of his phone and brought up an album of photographs of his beloved late wife. He felt the addictive, familiar blend of love and guilt lingering on a photo of Susanna. She sat in her beloved Porsche, looking up at the camera through the open driver’s window. Black wrap around shades covered her eyes, but her mouth was curled up into an enormous smile showing straight white teeth that her eyes no doubt mirrored behind her shades. Gary groaned. “Why couldn’t I just have been content with living happily with Susanna? I know we couldn’t have had children, but life would have been simpler. Damn it, Pushkin, it’s not all my fault, is it? Alyson has to take her share of the blame. It takes two to tango …”
His love for Susanna faded, and resentment edged in. He stroked his cat. “Tell you what, Pushkin, Annie doesn’t know how lucky she is. Mark has been a great dad to her. Boring, but solid. If she had been my daughter, though, I would have made sure that she wasn’t destined for a boring entry grade job. She deserves to suffer. Why shouldn’t I hurt Annie? That will hurt Alyson far more than if I just beat her up.”
Pushkin miaowed at Gary and turned her back, jumping away and heading out of the house through the cat flap set into the kitchen door. Gary told Alexa to play some chart pop music and headed to his bedroom to dress as he felt a fog of anger descend.
The darkness was slowly, but surely, abating into day. Annie kept gazing up to where the shaft of light penetrated into the otherwise gloomy warehouse. She shivered, partly because of the cold, and partly because that daytime would surely see the return of her captor.
A pigeon dropped from a high perch. The clapping of wings echoed around the room. Surely a noise that wouldn’t haven’t had been noticed when the warehouse had been a hive of activity. Annie imagined a forklift truck whizzing around towering racks of shelving, the whine of an electric motor crescendoing. It made her feel a little less lonely, if only for a moment. Coo-ing caught her attention. With a squint Annie just about made out a nest poking out into view on top of a steel girder. The pigeon hopped off the nest and flew back up to the hole in the roof. Annie exhaled, glad that there was another living being to keep her company.
A strange noise caught her attention. Her stomach muscles tightened into a knot as she tried to figure out what it was. A car engine. Oh my; I haven’t heard any traffic since being here. This can only mean that the man is back. I hope he isn’t wearing the Santa suit again. Christmas will never be the same.
The car engine stopped ticking over. The sound of the door clunking closed signalled the tightening of Annie’s muscles. She shivered involuntarily as adrenaline coursed through her veins. Fight or flight with little chance of flight.
Behind her, a rattle of metal echoed, and a draft of cold air told her that someone had entered the warehouse. Annie shivered involuntarily. Is it ‘Santa’, or someone else? Maybe I’m going to be rescued. Footsteps kept track of the visitor’s movements. Instead of approaching her, it sounded as though the person was walking along the outside of the room. A door slammed shut, Annie jumped a little. She hadn’t been able to see the office, as it was outside her peripheral vision.
What is happening? He’s been gone for ages. Annie’s stomach tightened, taking her breath away. She looked around for a clock, without luck. Partly because of the permanent gloom, and partly because it there wasn’t one to see. How long have I been here? I’m sure it’s only one night. Damn, what time is it, I haven’t eaten for ages. Annie exhaled deeply and closed her eyes.
A slapping noise caught her attention. Footsteps. They were getting louder, accompanied by grunting. The man came into view, carrying a large office chair. He put it down onto its chrome runner style legs and plopped down into the worn royal blue fake leather. Santa was no more. He wore a black face mask, a black woollen hat pulled down over his ears, black sturdy boots, dark blue trousers and a black puffer style jacket.
Annie stared at him. Something about his appearance is so strangely familiar?
Gary sighed. “It’s rude to stare. Weren’t you ever told that? I hope you had a good night’s sleep. You must be hungry.”
From a pocket in his jacket, he produced a Mars bar and a 500ml bottle of Evian water in a sports bottle. He leant forward and ripped the tape from Annie’s mouth.
He flipped the lid on the water. Annie was relieved to see that it was sealed before Gary opened it. Leaning forwards, he slipped the bottle between her lips and tilted it. Annie drank greedily, water running down her throat and over her sore numb lips splashing onto the floor and covering her clothing. Eventually, she shook her head from side to side when she couldn’t drink any more. That movement caused another small stream of water to run down the side of her mouth and land on her top, sticking it to her skin. Annie grimaced. The feeling was unwelcome, as she knew she wouldn’t be able to dry herself. Gary unwrapped the Mars bar and waved it about six inches in front of Annie’s nose. To her dismay, he pulled it away from her, lifted the bottom of his mask a little and chomped the bar in half.
Annie tried to not react but couldn’t help letting a gasp escape. “I haven’t eaten since yesterday. Let me have the rest. Please …”
Gary leant forwards and shoved the second half of the bar roughly into her mouth. Annie bit down on his fingertip as hard as she could.
“Bitch!” In a fast, uncontrolled motion, Gary jumped up, held his hand high and struck Annie across her cheek. The slap echoed around the warehouse. The pigeon, in a panic, jumped from its nest, flew across the space and out of the roof.
Annie cried out in pain. The chocolate dropped out of her mouth onto the concrete floor. She looked down at it and groaned, wishing that she hadn’t bitten her captor.
“Silly little Annie.” Gary bent down and picked up the soggy stump of chocolate between his thumb and forefinger. He peered at it. Satisfied that there wasn’t any grit attached, he popped it into Annie’s mouth, taking care to not allow his finger to enter her mouth. “I suppose I can’t allow you to starve before I torture you. It’s not like you have much body fat to burn anyway, is it? That’s your mother’s influence. Maybe I should feed you up, and make you podgy - she couldn’t stand the thought of having a fat kid.”
Annie glared. Just who is this arsehole?
She tried to make a mouth of spit to launch at the man, but her mouth was simply too dry. “I can tell you aren’t going to hurt me really badly. You seem to be obsessed by Alyson. This is sick. Just let me go and that’ll be the end of it. I don’t care who you are. My police family will find you soon, anyway.”
Butterflies battered inside her stomach, nerves and bravery battling each other.
“Look over there. What do you see?” Gary pointed further into the warehouse. Annie raised her head slowly. A knot had formed in her neck muscle from being stuck in the same position for hours on end. She scanned her eyes around, nothing standing out. There were pieces of Armco attached to the floor, probably to protect the long gone racking that would have held pallets of goods. A tall set of ladders on wheels seemed to be abandoned, where the last user left them, perhaps to change a fluorescent light tube.
She looked back at Gary. “There’s nothing to see but general warehouse stuff. What are you getting at?”
“See the ladders? Look at the top of them.” He resumed his pointing.
