Condemned Ch 03

For over half my life I had done everything I could to avoid the gangs. I'd grown up dreading the sounds of their loud, cruel voices, the sight of their sleek, well fed faces. I'd learned to hide in places too disgusting to tempt them to follow, to stay away from anywhere clean and open. It hadn't been an easy life by any means but at least I was free.

Now, surrounded by them with every instinct I possessed urging me to run, I was beginning to feel a new kind of hysteria. My common sense forbade me to make any sudden movements because I knew that they were watching me, some casually, some with much more scrutiny. I tried not to cringe at the sudden noises, the laughter, the bellowing. Singles learned early on that they needed to be quiet, that they should never draw attention to themselves. The gangs seemed to thrive on it though. They wanted to be seen and heard. I wondered if it made them feel alive.

I turned around, preparing to go back into the relative safety of the dark, morbid corridors. Perhaps I could find some abandoned corner to hide in until sunset. And then what? Go back to Michael? I ran my hand through my newly trimmed hair, dirt and tangle free for the first time in years.

I don't know what it was that made me look up. I felt a sudden lurch in my stomach when I realised that three people had formed a lose semi circle at my back. They were of varying ages. A man of some forty years smiled at me, his white teeth even and bright. His body was lean but muscled and he looked a picture of healthiness. He had light brown hair with a spattering of grey and dark brown eyes. There was a young girl, barely out of adolescence, her spiked purple hair and thick makeup disguising her pretty face and a man closer to my own age. We were probably a similar height though he would have outweighed me considerably. He wasn't a handsome man by any means. His face was scarred and his nose broken. Whatever had happened to make him a gang member must have been intense.

The older man grinned at me, his smile dazzling as he stepped towards me. The other two kept staring, issuing a challenge I couldn't understand. Well the hell to them, I thought briskly and only a little hysterically as I made to walk around them. The older guy chuckled and rapidly closed the distance between us. I fell back a few steps and he stopped within grabbing distance. "What's your name?" He asked me, the soft lilt of his Irish accent reminding me suddenly of my mom. I stared at him, wanting more than anything for him to move aside and let me pass. He wasn't budging though. "You're name son?" He asked again, a fountain of patients.

"Conner." I said, and I was glad my voice didn't shake. "Excuse me," I tried to walk around him again but he just stepped back into my path. "What do you want?" I asked him tiredly.

"Only to get to know you a little better me boyo. You're news is what you are. Picked up in the eclipse weren't you?" Picked up was a little more accurate that I wanted to admit to but I nodded my head reluctantly. "By the yank no less?" The Irishman said with a grin and then a wink at my surprised expression. "I was Shocked when you popped up tonight. We expected to hear you'd been turned into fodder, didn't we my lovelies?" The other two nodded their heads obediently. The scarred man smiled at me. "Michael's not one to play with his food. You to be turned?"

"No." I said, maybe a little too vehemently because suddenly the grin slipped off the Irishman's face and he stopped looking mildly threatening and became more than a little menacing. I stepped back again and he stepped with me, keeping the same distance between us. "One of the others said I wasn't suitable." I said, desperate to fill the silence that used to seem so natural to me.

"I heard that." The other man said, slowly relaxing his stance and expression. "And by the way you're acting you'll not be getting an invite into any gangs either." His grin came back full force but it held a visage of cruelty now. "You're a single through to the bone aren't you boyo?" he asked as he stepped forward again, and again I gave ground to him.

"He's another sheep." The girl said, with an accent thicker than my own. I tried to place it as I knew I'd heard it before but the memory escaped me. "A stupid sheep filled with stupid thoughts."

I didn't even look at her but kept my eyes fixed on the Irishman. "Aye, a sheep he is me lovely, a sheep born and bred, but I'm willing to bet he's not a bad sort, are you lad?"

I didn't like to wonder what their idea of bad could be. I shook my head because that was what they wanted me to do and tried to hide my growing panic.

"Are you hungry Conner?" He asked me suddenly, all smiles and honey as he stepped forward. When I stepped back again he laughed at me. "I'm fond of dancing lad but this is getting a little tedious don't you think? Now are you hungry?"

I was always hungry. Being hungry was so natural to me now that the pangs had to become quite severe before I really took notice. And because I didn't want to go anywhere with them, and because I still had the canned fruit in my bag I shook my head no. I saw the other mans eyebrows shoot up. He looked me up and down and raised his eyebrows sceptically. I didn't care. The idea of being fattened up brought back a great deal of children's stories I'd read as a kid. Considering what happened to the fat kinds in the stories I decided I'd rather stay skinny.

He stepped forward and I went back. It wasn't until I saw his eyes twinkle that it occurred to me to look where I was going and by then it was too late. My back smacked up against a wall and a moment later he was standing very close to me. I instinctively shrank back and a part of me realised that the Irishman revelled in my fear. He'll be turned, I decided as I looked into his not quite human eyes. He grinned again as he raised his arms lazily and rested them on the wall on either side of my shoulders. I debated trying to push past him but it was a fleeting idea that I quickly pushed aside until the image of that kid popped back into my head. With amazing clarity I remembered every scream she'd let loose. I tried to shoulder past him but he just laughed at me pressed me back with his bulk.

"My, my, you don't like being cornered do you son?" He asked me jovially, as if it was all some joke.

I wondered if there was anything alive, man or beast, that could possibly like being cornered. I very much doubted it. I found it agonising. The few times I'd run into other singles we had kept a weary distance between us. Since my dad died I hadn't really had to look directly up at anyone. I wasn't used to feeling so overpowered by another person. Mindless fear of the world was one thing but a direct confrontation was totally beyond me.

"So boyo, how about a bite? Hmmm? I don't think Michael will object if we put a little meat on your bones?"

I wanted to say no, I opened my mouth to say exactly that but before I could mutter the first syllable he grabbed my arm and dragged me after him. The other two fell into step behind us, staying close enough that the girl actually stepped on my heel. I looked back at her and wondered if she had done it on purpose. Her face was expressionless but I could tell the petty little act had amused her.

The hallway they took me into was different to the one leading into Michael's room. Despite all the gothic furniture and garish red walls I knew enough to realise that it had been done richly and well. The hall I was in now looked little better than a large hole cut ruggedly into stone and earth. Water dripped off the rocks above, splashing on top off my head and running down the back on my neck. The air smelled stale and confined and the stench of unwashed bodies was everywhere.

We paused outside a small wooden door. The scared man opened it and with a not so gentle shove he pushed me inside. It wasn't nearly as bad as I thought it would be. It was clean and spacious enough for me to turn around in and put some distance between us. It was modestly furnished with a couch and a spattering of chairs. The trio were ignoring me for the moment but they soon exchanged nasty looks before spreading out across the room. The girl came towards me. She was probably the only one I wasn't afraid of because she was the only one smaller than me but I still backed away from her for proprieties sake because I suspected it wouldn't take much to make her very angry. She reached into a cupboard and pulled out a bottle and four small glasses. Meanwhile the Irishman had made himself comfortable on the couch whilst the scarred one collected an arm full of containers and dropped then onto the floor.

"Come here Conner," The Irishman said suddenly, making me jump. When I didn't move he frowned at me. "You going to eat your supper from all the way over there? No, I thought not. Come here then."

I shook my head. "I'm not hungry."

Hi face changed again. He was angry now. "Fuck me; I thought we'd already had this conversation! I don't give a shit if you say you're hungry or not! Get over here now!"

So I did. As much as I didn't want to I went over to him and I let him pull me down onto the couch beside him. He opened up some bags and thrust them onto my lap. I ate obediently but whatever it was tasted like ashes in my mouth. I chewed slolwy, aware of the Irishman's predatory gaze as I shifted uncomfortably beside him. I debated with myself whether it was worth just making a run for it but I couldn't build up the courage so I just sat there.

Eventually he plucked the half empty bag out of my grasp and set it down on the table in front of us. I noticed his eyes flicker over my head and wondered which one of them was behind me now. I started to hear that kid scream again.

"Have you ever been out of England Conner?" He asked me casually as he lent back and laced his fingers behind his head. He pulled a pained expression. "Ah, poor boy. You haven't have you? Well, have you at least been out of Birmingham?"

"When I was younger." I answered hesitantly. "Before-"I let the work hang. Everyone knew what before meant.

"You've very little knowledge of the world then?"

I had very little knowledge of anything and was damn well aware of it. I shrugged my shoulder slightly and looked away

"Do you know what boyo, I like you." I startled badly when he clapped my shoulder. "Sheep or not I can't help but like you. What say you me lovelies. Should we let Conner here join our little gang?"

The scarred one snorted directly behind me. I resisted the urge to look back and tried to ignore the terrible tingling feeling in my exposed neck. "Let him join as what?" The girl asked, coming around to stand in front of me. "What use would he be to us?"

"Ignore her." He said, squeezing my knee as he shot her a sour look. "I'm sure you're good for a lot of things, aren't you Conner?"

"Not really," I answered, because it was the truth and I was beginning to feel so nervous that it seemed prudent not to lie.

He frowned at me for a moment before letting out a mirthless bark of laughter. "At least your honest, if not a little harsh on yourself. But come now Conner, what could you do? What could you offer the rest of us?"

"I'm sorry." I said, because I knew something bad was going to happen and even though a part of me reasoned that something as mundane as apologising wasn't going to stop it I still had to try.

His eyes didn't soften in the slightest. "Why are you apologising boyo?"

I slapped his hand off my knee and stood up. Before I could even think about struggling I felt myself pulled back down and manoeuvred onto my back. The soft sofa cushions dipped on either side of me as the Irishman fell on top of me, his girth pressing down on me and making it difficult to breathe. "Don't!" I yelled, pushing against him, trying to dislodge his weight. He laughed at me, laughed as I tried to buck his weight off from on top of me. His mouth was suddenly on mine, his tongue forcing its way past my lips and into my mouth. My yells were muffled to almost nothing. I could hear the other two close by, laughing at me.

I wanted to bite down, every part of me that held even a shred of courage screamed at me to do it. I couldn't through; I was too afraid, too aware of how little power I had. That kid's scream ringed continuously through my mind. A constant reminder of what they could do to me.

His hands slid over me, much as Michaels had. I thought it might have been more terrifying with one of the others but it wasn't. The feeling of helplessness and dread was the same. God how I hated them! How I hated that any living thing could make me feel so afraid. I was tired of being afraid.

The Irishman's hands wound through my newly cut hair, teasing it as he kissed me. I could feel his hardness pressed up against my leg, digging into me. His hands wound downwards and caught hold of my trousers. I managed a screamed protest before the sound of the door being violently hammered broke through my consciousness. The Irishman tensed on top of me. A woman called out from outside the door and he sprang off me so quickly that I was knocked to the floor. I was up almost as quickly and retreated back from them.

The door burst open and one of them stepped in. She was a young looking female, red haired and green eyed with skin as white as milk. Her gaze flickered briefly past me before settling on the Irishman.

"Where were you Jonnie? I've been waiting hours." She asked, her accent proclaiming her Irish decent as clearly as her flaming hair.

The Irishman shrugged and pointed at me. "I was sidestepped, Kerry. Have a good look and you'll see why." She was in front of me before I could blink, staring up at me quizzically as her hand hovered above my face. "Exquisite isn't he?" Jonnie asked brightly.

"Yes, and likely more trouble than he's worth. He has Michael's smell all over him. You should be wary Jonnie; Michael isn't one to share his property." She looked me in the eye for the first time. "Shoo," She said, gesturing me towards the door. When I didn't move she gave me a hard look and a rough shove, "Get on with you, shoo!"

So I shooed like I had a rocket up my arse and bolted from the room.

* * * * *

They had a huge clock in the central hall that announced the arrival of daybreak and nightfall by chiming out a dull tune, alerting everyone where they had to be or go. It rang out as I sat huddled in my small corner. I looked at my watch. It was a little past 7 am. Michael said I had to go back to him first thing in the morning. I kept staring dully at my chest and didn't move. I felt broken and used and violated. I wanted to take another shower but this time I wanted the water to scold the flesh off my bones.

I don't know how long I sat there before I felt one of them bearing down on me. I couldn't have explained the sensation of having so much raw power directed solely at me. It was to say the least intense. I managed to utter a tiny whimper before a pale hand gripped my arm and pulled me up. Michael growled deep in his throat and caught my chin in his manacle like hold. "Where were you?" He demanded, his eyes red and teary. Clearly he wasn't used to being up so early.

"I-" was all I managed to stutter out before he let go of my chin and grabbed the back of my collar. He pulled back to his room, nearly lifting me off the floor as I struggled to keep up with him. When we were inside he let go of me more gently than I would have expected. I scuttled backwards, instinctively pressing myself into the same spot I'd occupied the night before. My bag was still there. I picked it up and hugged it against my chest as I slowly slid down the wall into a sitting position. I buried my face into the bag and tried to stop the shaking.

I heard a weary sigh and then the room went as dark a tomb.