Roman numerals. Latin words.
Darby picked up the bucket, finding a scrub brush and a bottle of Palmolive inside. The bucket had a big metal handle for easy carrying. She draped it around her arm and pushed her prisoner to the side of the house, finding the hose neatly draped over a holder. The window above it threw a square of light on a lawn covered with autumn leaves.
She dropped the bucket. Withdrawing the knife from his neck, she tossed him over her leg and pushed him face first against the grass near the hose. He screamed, blowing leaves away from his mouth. She dug a knee into the small of his back, pinning him against the ground, and reached for the tap. Over the sound of running water, she heard footsteps moving towards the lighted windows above her.
After she filled the bucket with soap and water, Darby rolled the man over. His bloodshot, weeping eyes kept trying to blink away the burning. She flushed them with running water, and for the first time got a good, clear look at the man's face, with its network of scars both deep and faint, his egg-white skin so pale it almost seemed translucent, as though it had never been exposed to the sun.
She took the brush with its hard bristles full of suds and water and began to scrub down his face, head and neck. He kept twisting underneath her, hacking and coughing up the soapy water running down his throat and nose. By the time she had finished, his skin was red and raw, and his hacking had subsided to deep, body-racking coughs.
She dropped the brush, picked up the knife and sliced the shirt right down the middle. When she pushed back the fabric, she discovered the same thick, latticed scars that had covered Charlie's emaciated chest. As if scoops of flesh had been carved out. This man had a little bit more weight on him but not much. She could see his ribcage bulging against the ragged, scrawny flesh as she scrubbed him down with the brush.
Then the scar pattern hit her.
'Who whipped you?'
He moaned an answer she couldn't understand.
'Say it again.'
He started coughing. She cut off the rest of the shirt and tossed the pieces to the side. Darby rolled him over so that she could see his back.
Dear God Jesus.