OCCASIONALLY CHLOE HEARD someone sobbing. Felt a little sorry for the girl. At least, it sounded like a girl. You never can tell, she thought sleepily, it sounds kinda muffled. Hands bound behind her back, ankles shackled to the bolt in the brick wall, Chloe Farrell no longer recognised the moans as her own. The gag in her mouth had long ago dried her saliva; her throat rasped raw from screaming through the cloth, but this discomfort and the spasms from her contorted muscles now failed to register. The thirst and pain had pushed her to an altered state of consciousness, a nowhere land, which she accepted, matter-of-factly, as the waiting room for death. After four nights bound and gagged on the floor in Cutter's subterranean room, squashed between his bed and a wardrobe, Chloe was comfortable in the silent softness of her mind.
She was careful, however, to stay away from the edges of this dreamlike state. If she let her mind wander too freely it found the memories – the consciousness of what had happened to her. The images stabbed into the protective bubble surrounding her psyche and filled it with blood.
When the memory played, the recording didn't stop until it had gone right through. Forced to watch it all, what the man had done to his stomach on the bed above her, Chloe had at first tried screaming to herself to run instead of entering the room with Henry Nguyen. Now, she just waited until the memory played out and the muffled nothingness returned.
He'd be back, he had told her, four nights ago.
On the floor, bound to the double-brick wall, the girl whimpered and sobbed. In her mind, far away, Chloe Farrell tuned out the sound and waited to die.
Maryana Miceh couldn't figure out why Mummy had been crying all morning. Probably Daddy said something mean again, she thought. She and Uncle Ken had been watching the boring news all morning. Maryana hadn't even been allowed to watch Hi-5. She had thought that her mum would have liked watching Hi-5 better, because the news just made her cry harder. When she asked Uncle Ken what was wrong, he told her everything was going to be fine, and picked her up and squashed her in a hug. She told him to put her down because his whiskers were scratchy.
When she'd tried to see what they were so interested in on television, Uncle Ken had led her away. Then he had scrooched down to her height and put his hands on her shoulders. He went all serious and she had wanted to smack him because he looked like he was going to cry too. Uncle Ken never cried and he shouldn't start now, while Mummy was so upset. But all he told her was that Henry wouldn't be renting with them any more. Maryana had felt mean and happy at the same time, because she really didn't like Henry. She knew that was un-Christian, because he had always been nice to her and because he had a sore stomach, but she couldn't help it, and she had smiled. Then it had occurred to her that this was probably a Bad Thing. Probably that's why Mummy keeps crying, she thought. We need the money from the rent.
Maryana wondered what would happen to Henry's room now. Maybe she and Eva could use it for playing again. She had been nowhere near the room since she'd seen that man's sore tummy. Now, knowing he wasn't coming back, she ran down into the backyard and squinted through the crack in the wall. Henry had left all his stuff in there. Maybe he didn't want it anymore. That wardrobe looked pretty old. Kneeling on the grass peering in, Maryana thought about the money. Maybe we could have a fete like they did at school last month, she thought. She had heard Mrs Marshall telling Mr Jacoby that they'd made shitloads. That sounded like a lot.
Maryana stood back up. It was hot today. Probably soon they'd be allowed to go swimming.
What was that? She jumped at the sound, dropping back to her knees in the grass.
Again!
Someone's crying in there!
Maryana Miceh ran as fast as she could up to the kitchen, and she could run pretty fast. She'd beaten Jasmine Hardcastle in cross-country last week.