The Zombie Room (21 page)

Inside was a carpeted hallway, lined on either side by rows of booths with large black-tinted windows. Empty booths were brightly illuminated from within. Occupied booths had the lights dimmed for privacy and a spotlight from the hallway shone against the glass, reflecting back the incredulous faces of Mangle, Tazeem and Sadiq as they were led onward by the attendant.

‘There are three empty rooms here,’ he said in the manner of an air steward signalling a plane’s emergency exits. ‘If you’d follow me inside this one, I’ll demonstrate the facilities.’

The room was fairly small and cube-shaped, perhaps a few metres between corners. A sturdy-looking square armchair sat in the centre with a touch screen attached to one side. Black floor tiles gleamed like the reflective bar surface downstairs.

‘There is a mini-bar within each room for you to make use of,’ the attendant gestured flamboyantly once they were all inside. ‘The screen here is used to place your orders, whatever your heart desires. Simply follow the on-screen menus and touch whatever you would like.’

A kaleidoscope of beautiful women cascaded as his fingers danced nimbly over the screen. He then selected ‘Merchandise’
and a vast array of drugs, both prescription and narcotic, awaited selection.

‘The small window on the arm of the chair is a scanner, to charge whatever product or service directly to your account. Just hold your arm above it after you have selected on screen,’ he said, and indicated on his forearm roughly where they had had the chips implanted. ‘An attendant will bring to the room whatever you have chosen. A camera in each room ensures the absolute safety of the client at all times. They are monitored but not recorded, and there is no audio transmission. Also, it has been known on occasion that a client may try to elicit a service from one of the girls without paying for it,’ he chuckled. ‘But of course we wouldn’t expect such behaviour from esteemed gentlemen such as yourselves.’

Mangle and Tazeem shared a look, but neither spoke.

‘When you decide to end your session, use the screen to signal an attendant. A shower room is available through the door to the rear for you to freshen up, and a fresh robe and slippers can be found in there if you require them. Unless you have any questions I will retire and allow you to enjoy your night.’

He waited for a moment and when no questions were forthcoming he withdrew from the room. ‘One of you remain in here, the other two can take the rooms on either side. And just to reassure you, the rooms are soundproofed and very strong,’ he said, tapping his knuckles against the wall. ‘Nothing will get through here.’

Mangle walked to the mini-bar and poured himself a large glass of bourbon. Tazeem and Sadiq took that as their cue to leave with the attendant. The door was closed after them and the lighting dimmed suitably to ensure client privacy. Mangle laughed at the notion. Some privacy when there’s a camera over your shoulder at all times.

He sat in the chair and swivelled the screen around to face him. ‘Please select a partner’ it said, in bold lettering. A green triangle steadily revolved in one corner. He touched the screen and three
categories appeared: ‘Pristine’, ‘Exercised’ and ‘Impaired’. Mangle selected the first and a multitude of headshots of beautiful women filled the screen. He tapped one at random. A complete body shot of the women standing naked appeared. The figure on screen began to move around, a five-second loop of her twisting and turning in a sultry manner. Her eyes looked hazy and she didn’t attempt a smile. A price for the girl to be summoned to your room headed a list outlining some of the acts she could perform and the additional prices for them. There were more option buttons to go into greater depth of possibilities.

He pressed the ‘Back’ button twice, and this time selected ‘Exercised’ from the menu. Another deluge of faces lined up across the monitor. The others had looked fresh, not happy but detached. These girls had clearly experienced more of what The Club had to offer, and a faraway yet hunted look haunted their eyes. Scanning over the images, Mangle recognised the face of Tatiana, from the file they had taken from the clinic. He tapped the headshot and her naked figure filled the screen and began to move. It was the same girl. She was undoubtedly beautiful but her performance lacked fluency or grace. She appeared like a marionette, her movements forced and controlled by another. Patches of her skin shimmered slightly as she moved, as if the image had been altered after it had been recorded.

Without realising he was about to, Mangle tapped ‘Order’ on the screen and held his forearm over the scanner. An electronic beep sounded and an automated voice thanked him for his custom, and told him his purchase would be delivered shortly.

Mangle drank the contents of his glass and went to refill it again. He ran a hand across his face and sat back heavily into the chair. He had no idea what Tazeem hoped to achieve from this, what evidence he could possibly get that would expose what was going on at The Club, and who was involved in the deaths of Latif and Decker. He took another large swallow from the glass and hoped that when the girl arrived she wouldn’t inadvertently give him away.

A few minutes later the door slid open and a different attendant, holding the girl’s arm, ushered her into the room. She wore one of the custom robes and when the door closed behind her she let it slip to the floor. Underneath she wore a black bra and panties, but that wasn’t what caught Mangle’s attention. As she moved towards him, he could see the areas that had been doctored on her video. A large portion of her right thigh looked swollen and inflamed, although make-up had been applied over the top to conceal the damaged flesh.

‘What would you like me do for you?’ she asked in a dreamy voice.

Mangle was immensely conscious of the camera perched silently in the corner of the room. He had been told there was no audio – but was that really true? He leant forward, positioning himself between the girl and the camera lens.

‘Do you recognise me?’ he asked in a soft voice.

The girl blinked but didn’t react, like a computer that had been given an instruction that wasn’t in its program bank.

‘What would you like me do for you?’ she repeated in the same accented English.

Mangle beckoned and she moved toward him and knelt down.

‘Look at me,’ he said to the girl, and holding her face gently under the chin, tilted it so she looked directly into his eyes.

The girl began to repeat her opening line, but Mangle pressed his finger to her lips and silenced her. As she looked at him, really looked now, he thought he saw a flicker of recognition.

‘You know who I am, don’t you?’ he said.

She gave a barely perceptible nod. Her eyes had grown wide.

‘You don’t have to be afraid of me,’ he said, thinking he was the cause of her alarm.

‘They watch all the time,’ she said, her wide eyes swivelled up in the direction of the camera.

‘But they can’t hear us?’

‘No. Have you come to rescue me?’ she asked, although there was no trace of hope in her voice.

Mangle didn’t know what to say. He turned back to the computer and began flicking through the options on her profile screen so that they didn’t appear suspicious to anyone who may be watching. Next to ‘Services’ was an option for ‘Extras’; he selected it.

‘I saw you at the place they first held us, then at the other club, then at the clinic also, but you do not seem like the others. Do you work for them?’

‘No I definitely do not work for them, far from it,’ he said.

The screen filled up with a wealth of sex aids, toys and lubricants, each one priced. A lot were the kind of thing he’d been aware of, that girls bought at those female-only parties. But many looked at the least very uncomfortable, and others downright painful. Some were grossly oversized and others had spiked areas or coarse sections to irritate and embed into the girl’s flesh.

She slid her hand inside Mangle’s robe and up his thigh. Mangle shifted uncomfortably at the unexpected contact.

‘If we do nothing I will get into trouble,’ she said. His robe fell open and she began to massage his cock. ‘And they will be suspicious of you.’

Mangle tried to concentrate despite her touch that caused lust to open up within him. Another option flashed at the bottom of the screen that read, ‘Ultimate Extras’. Mangle pressed it. It wasn’t more sex aids that flooded onto the screen now. Knives, clamps, Tasers, even tetro-dyazine – a muscle paralyser – and other weapons and instruments to deliver pain and suffering were proudly displayed next to their prohibitively expensive prices.

‘Oh my God,’ he said as the sadist merchandise was digitally proffered. The girl took his exclamation as a sign of pleasure and quickened the movement of her hand. ‘No,’ he said uncomfortably, and she resumed her previous pace.

Mangle ran a hand over his mouth as if pondering which items to select, as he again looked at the screen. ‘We could get out. There are guns on here. Jesus.’

‘You cannot,’ Tatiana said sharply, ‘if you order a gun there
is only a single shot, and once delivered the doors are locked and will not open until it has been fired.

Mangle continued scrolling through the despicable array of potential destruction. One thing was evident; he couldn’t leave this girl here. It was clear why the three categories of girls had been available. The cheaper end of the scale would no doubt have been brutalised over and over in every way imaginable, and would carry the scars to prove it.

‘There must be another way out. Are the girls led in and out through the main doors?’

‘No. Sometimes they need to bring in more girls while The Club is open. There is a locked door down below, near our living quarters.’

‘How do we get to it?’

‘You cannot. This door is unlocked only when an attendant delivers items. Besides even if you got out of here, if you try to get into a restricted area he would activate the alarm.’

‘But what if he didn’t … are there cameras in the corridors?’

‘No, only in the rooms. The clients wouldn’t believe cameras anywhere else were for their safety and they don’t like to feel exposed.’

‘I can understand why,’ Mangle said as he struggled to formulate a plan of escape.

He looked around the room hopefully for anything that could be used to aid them.

‘Is something wrong?’ Tatiana asked him.

‘What?’ Mangle said. He followed the direction of her eyes. ‘Oh.’ He’d been so caught up with devising a way out that he’d lost his erection. ‘No, nothing’s wrong.’

He scrolled around the on-screen menus and began to place an order. He waved his forearm over the scanner and was thanked for his custom by the automated voice.

‘The attendant will be here in a few moments,’ Tatiana said, her eyes cast downward to the floor. ‘I guess it is time for you to have your fun.’

Mangle got up and walked back over to the mini-bar. He refilled his glass and stood sipping the bourbon. He watched Tatiana. She had curled her legs under her and began to suck her thumb. Not in a provocative way, but like a defenceless child seeking the protection of its mother.

The electronic lock released and the attendant entered. It was like watching a hotel employee deliver room service. He carried a silver serving tray with a circular lid. Tatiana remained in her almost foetal position but she watched the attendant like a field mouse watches an owl.

‘I’ll put this on the table for you, sir.’

‘Very well,’ Mangle said, ‘although, could you wait just a moment which I check everything is there?’

‘Certainly, sir,’ he replied and put down the tray.

Mangle walked over and removed the cover. Tatiana’s eyes were pinned wide in trepidation. On the tray sat a hunting knife, a Taser gun, a syringe and a pistol. She uttered a low guttural moan and closed her eyes.

‘Is everything satisfactory, sir?’ the attendant enquired politely.

‘Yes,’ Mangle confirmed as he ran his fingers across the items.

The attendant turned to walk back out of the door. In one fluid motion, Mangle snatched up the syringe, spun around and stabbed the 3inch needle into the back of the man’s neck before administering the full dosage of tetro-dyazine. Tatiana opened her eyes again and watched as the helpless body of the attendant crumpled to the floor. His head fell across the threshold, preventing the automatic closing of the door.

‘What have you done?’ she said, horrified.

Mangle didn’t answer but grabbed another item off the tray. He aimed the Taser at the metal housing on the underside of the camera and pulled the trigger. Two barbed electrodes leaped from the gun and for several seconds unleashed their surge of power. A crackling sound like broken twigs came from within. Mangle hoped he had managed to fry the camera, and before someone had noticed his assault on the attendant.

‘Get up,’ he ordered. Tatiana got tentatively to her feet. ‘And pick those up,’ he told her, gesturing towards the tray.

Mangle wielded the Taser, which had two remaining shots to fire, snatched her hand and stepping over the prostate yet still twitching figure of the attendant, hurried out into the hallway.

He had feared an immediate alarm and confrontation from several security guards, but if the alarm had been triggered, then it was silent, and any security staff were yet to arrive. Mangle moved to the door at the next room. He had hoped for a switch or button to unlock the door automatically, but the faceplate was smooth and featureless. The attendant must have unlocked it remotely.

He took the large hunting knife from Tatiana. One side had a slightly curved, razor-sharp edge; the other, jagged serrated teeth. Firmly gripping the handle he brought the knife tip down in a stabbing motion onto the lock faceplate. The first blow dented it but bounced off, leaving only a small hole in the metal. He stabbed at the lock again, this time perforating its covering.

‘You cannot chop your way into the rooms. Someone will come, someone will come,’ she wailed, looking from left to right up and down the hallway.

Mangle took hold of the Taser and holding it only a few inches from the hole in the lock plate, he fired. The electrodes impregnated the lock with their ejaculation of voltage. A popping and fizzing came from the compromised lock followed by the acrid smell of burning plastic. A loud crack sounded, and to Mangle’s delight, not only that door, but the doors to all of the other booths opened in unison along the hallway.