Flare (29 page)

Malphas strode towards Scox’s cage and the defeated men stopped their jeers and dared not throw any more of their excrement. Zeke heard them whisper at each other to stop, and he gathered that they knew this man well enough to know that he wouldn’t be cowed by humiliation. If they threw their waste at Malphas there would be dire consequences, perhaps more dire than anything Scox could inflict.

Malphas unlatched Scox’s cage and took a bullwhip from his own belt, and then started to whip Scox angrily. The bullwhip was still folded in two, but Malphas threw his blows quickly, and Zeke saw that Scox’s skin began to bleed. Scox didn’t try to protect himself from the bullwhip, but Malphas was inflicting serious damage, and soon Scox was on the ground, unconscious and silent.

Scox’s victim was moaning louder now, and his yells were now the only sound in the now-quiet room. Malphas strode over him and peered downwards, inspecting the tools that Scox had used. Malphas reached down and picked up a machete.

“May God continue to curse you,” said Malphas to the man on the ground, “even in the afterlife.”

Malphas hacked the machete into the victim’s neck, and the man’s blood sprayed outwards onto Malphas’s leg. Malphas didn’t mind the spray and continued to hack at the victim’s neck until he was decapitated.

Malphas breathed in for a minute and then spat on the man’s headless corpse. He turned around and looked at the group in the cage, who had now all averted their eyes. There was no more camaraderie, no more
esprit-de-corps
as they stood in the shadow of Malphas’s glare. This dark-eyed man was in control now and they were once again weak captives, crippled and covered in their own excrement. Zeke felt relieved that he had at least ended the man’s suffering, but they were still in danger. Malphas could continue to torment anyone he wished, and from his glare it looked like he wanted to do just that.

“Now, you all shouldn’t have done this,” said Malphas, “and I assure you there will be consequences. But for now, I’m gonna leave you be.”

The men looked surprised, and in response Malphas let out a dry, joyless laugh.

“I’m gonna leave you alone, but I ain’t gonna clean you up either,” he said. “I’ll let you wallow in your own shit, to see if the Lord sends cholera to punish you. I’ll return in a few days, and see what God’s choices have done to you.”

Malphas walked away, and the men were silent. He had almost returned to his box when he turned around and looked at the group. He walked back up to the cage, and it soon became obvious that he was staring at Zeke. He eyed Zeke up and down, then pulled out his bullwhip and snapped it twice. Though Zeke didn’t flinch, all the other men instinctively drew back, and Malphas opened the cage. None of them tried to escape, and Malphas beckoned Zeke forth.

“You, the dark one,” said Malphas. “What’s your name?”

Zeke didn’t answer.

“Get out here,” said Malphas.

Zeke didn’t move.

“I saw you, you’re the hero that got these men going,” said Malphas. “Scox must’ve missed his drugs, otherwise he wouldn’t have cared that you threw shit on him. But you somehow got the best of him, and I gotta punish you for it. I know your type and I know you don’t respond to intimidation. But I also know …”

Malphas snapped his whip again, and the group behind Zeke flinched in fear once more.

“I know that you’re a martyr, and you won’t stand for others suffering on your behalf,” said Malphas. “I tell you what, if you don’t do exactly as I say, I’m gonna get another one of your friends, put him in the sun for just a bit, and then give him to Scox, only this time I won’t allow anyone to stop it, you understand me?”

Zeke paused and then nodded.

“Good,” said Malphas. “Now, get out of the cage, put your hands out and kneel.”

Zeke did as he was told. When he knelt he saw that the cage was still open, but none of his comrades were looking to escape. They were like abused children beaten for so long that it became part of who they were, men dragged so far down that rising above was no longer even something to be considered.

Malphas shut the cage behind Zeke and locked it. He snapped his whip twice, the second time right by Zeke’s ear, but Zeke chose not to flinch.

“All right,” said Malphas. “Follow me or your friends get it, one by one.”

/***/

Malphas brought Zeke to a room on the side of the hangar and shut it with a
thud
. He locked the thin door behind him, and soon it was dark. Zeke’s eyes adjusted, and he saw a thin light dangling from the ceiling. He turned it on, and saw that his cell was long and thin, about twenty feet long, and a third of that wide. There was a pot of water in one corner and a pot that would serve as a restroom in the other. Both containers were filled, and both smelled so bad that Zeke had a hard time telling which was which. The room was tall enough to stand, and he stood to examine his surroundings and think about a possible escape.

The walls were thin and not built for incarceration. He could go through the roof, go under bottom of a wall, or even kick down the door that Malphas had used to lock him in. The far wall even had five holes in it, covered with thick cloth and spread out evenly like dots on a dice.

Zeke knew he could escape, but he also knew that it wasn’t the right move, not now at least. The ceiling and far wall were easily breakable, but if he broke them he’d be burned by the sun.

The opposite wall was thin too, but if he knocked down the door that Malphas had locked, he’d fall inward with nowhere to go. Even at night he’d have nowhere to go. He might escape, but Malphas would soon find out, and Malphas would punish the men in the cell. He’d feed them to the sun and then to Scox, one by one. Zeke saw it in Malphas’s eyes, and Zeke knew it meant that escape wasn’t an option.

There’s a solution to this.
Colm said I had a role, a big one, and I can’t act until I know what it is. I need to know what my role is.

/***/

An hour later someone opened a slot at the bottom of the flimsy door that held him in, and then pushed in a bowl filled with meat. Zeke was hungry, but chose to push the bowl back out. The meat was raw and newly slaughtered, and Zeke wondered if it was human flesh. He chose not to even think about it, because everything he’d seen so far indicated that this abominable idea might be true. When the captor on the other side pushed the bowl back in again, Zeke grabbed the man’s hand. The man yelled, but Zeke wouldn’t release his grip.

Zeke held on firmly but didn’t squeeze enough to hurt. The man calmed down, and Zeke pushed his left hand under the door and opened it, palm up. The man eventually got the hint and placed his other hand in Zeke’s left hand, and Zeke squeezed gently. Zeke released the grip of his right hand, and then held the man’s other hand softly for a few moments before letting go. The man paused for a moment, and then he took the bowl of meat and left.

/***/

Malphas returned to Zeke’s room an hour later, along with two other men, both of them with self-inflicted wounds, barely scabbed over and covered with red dust. Neither of them was big enough to scare Zeke, but Zeke, who was in a kneeling position, didn’t even consider overpowering them. They had crazed looks in their eyes, and Zeke knew that they would do everything that Malphas asked. Zeke knew if he burst through them, Malphas would order them to do cruel things to the other captives later, and they’d follow without hesitation. That scared him, so he stayed still.

“Remove his clothes,” said Malphas. “All his clothes.”

The two men walked up to Zeke and took off his jacket. Zeke stayed still enough for them to take off his shirt, and then his shoes, and he stood when they went to remove his pants. They hesitated to take off his underwear, as if the guards still had one remaining strand of humanity left. Malphas didn’t seem to notice this, so Zeke stared straight ahead and took off his own socks and then knelt compliantly.

Malphas walked up close to Zeke and examined him. Malphas was a large man, but was still dwarfed by Zeke, even though Zeke was kneeling without clothes.

Malphas inspected Zeke’s whole body, even his palms and under his feet and arms. Malphas looked at him with awe, not with the wonder one would show a man, but with the admiration one would give to a prized animal.

“You don’t smell bad. Even though we put you in that cage, you don’t smell bad,” said Malphas, “and you are
black
, black as coal, your whole body. Tell me, where do you come from?”

Zeke didn’t answer.

“I forgot, you aren’t the talking type,” said Malphas.

Zeke didn’t acknowledge Malphas and now stared forward, his eye line a full head above his captor.

“But you gotta pay, son, you gotta pay for what you did back there,” said Malphas. “We know it was you. They were like lambs until you came along, and then you agitated them, and we can’t have that. We’re in a tough world, and everything you do has consequences. Everything.”

Malphas nodded at a guard, and the man left the room. The man came back a minute later with one of the captives that had previously shared a cell with Zeke. The captive was rail-thin and could barely stand by himself, and Zeke noticed that he was still covered in dried human waste. The guard didn’t come too near the rail-thin man and simply hit him across the shoulders with a club until the captive understood that he should kneel.

“Now, do what we tell you,” said Malphas to Zeke. “If you refuse, your friend here gets it twice as bad. No warnings, no second chances. If we ask you to lay down to a lash and you don’t immediately do it …”

Malphas walked to the captive and clubbed him twice with his whip. The bullwhip was still bunched up and hit the man with a
thunk
and not a snap, but the captive still fell down with a cry.

“He gets it twice,” asked Malphas. “You understand?”

Zeke nodded immediately.

“Now, will you do everything I ask?”

Zeke nodded. Malphas then motioned to the other guard, the man who hadn’t brought in the captive. This man was big, but only in breadth. Though strong and powerful, he was only half Zeke’s height.

The stocky man reached up to get Zeke’s arm and yanked him towards the wall, the one with five holes covered with cloth and spread out evenly like dots on a dice.

The stocky man brought Zeke within an inch of the wall and told him to kneel. Zeke knelt, and soon he was facing the five holes. Malphas pointed to the upper left hole.

“Stick your left arm through,” said Malphas.

He can’t ask me to do that.
He can’t just—

Malphas hit Zeke on the head with his bunched-up whip. Zeke didn’t flinch, and he barely noticed the blow. He quickly thought of a way out of the situation. Could he push through all three of them, and then free the captives before they raised an alarm? Could he open the flap on the wall to let light in, so that they would all be burnt?

Malphas hit Zeke again, then looked at the captive.

“Our black friend isn’t cooperating, so the prisoner gets it,” said Malphas. “Put both his arms through.”

Zeke raised both his arms, palms facing the guards in a gesture of calm and supplication. He then stared at Malphas, silently telling Malphas that he would do as he was told. Malphas gestured at the guards to leave the captive alone and then nodded towards Zeke.

Zeke approached the wall. The flaps were round and made of thick black cloth, and though they were crudely made, he could tell that they served their purpose well. Zeke ascertained that there were layers beyond it, so that the wind wouldn’t blow the cloth open, and so that a hand thrust outward wouldn’t let any light inside.

I will find a way to survive this, because I can’t end my journey here.
This is not my role, and this is not the way my path is supposed to end. Not in this room, not surrounded by these men.

Zeke steeled himself, and then put his left hand through the hole. First cloth, and then more cloth, and then air. A moment of calm, and then burning. Zeke didn’t yell, because he didn’t want to give Malphas the pleasure, but it hurt. It felt as if his hand was in an oven, and the sting was only getting worse. He held it there for a moment, and then a moment longer. It continued to hurt, though Zeke knew that the pain would end soon.
The flesh on my left arm will vanish, along with the nerve endings. The pain will end soon.

But it didn’t end. Moment after moment, it didn’t end. It got worse. His hand in the oven was now being scalding with hot water, and then acid.

“Take it out,” said Malphas.

Zeke couldn’t hear the man’s words. He was in too much pain, and could barely feel it when Malphas clubbed his head with the whip again. It took the two guards to pull Zeke away from the wall, and after they did, he collapsed in a writhing heap on the ground.

“Cover him up,” said Malphas.

One guard took a dry towel from his pants and wrapped it around Zeke’s arm. The other guard took a burlap sack and wrapped it over the towel, and then tied it shut with a thin piece of twine. Both the towel and the burlap sack chafed against Zeke’s arm, and when the guard dragged him back to the wall, it scraped him so hard that it felt as if his skin was being ripped off.

“Now put your right leg through,” said Malphas.