Page 82 of Bound by Wreckage
All we see is black. A flashlight clickson, Deke as he steps inside and finds a switch, because the room illuminates. Two of the walls have peg boards with tools hanging from them. All of them clean and shiny. Hammers, screwdrivers, saws, knives, clamps and everything in between. The other wall has power tools, drills, and sawzalls. There’s an industrial sized freezer along the other wall, and cabinets on the wall with the door. A verylarge butcher table sits in the center of the room with straps for legs and arms. It’s not cat size—it’s human size. No safe on display. Fuck me.
Honestly, it reminds me of the pit at home, but ours isn’t this twisted because what the fuck does he need with a fridge?
We step into the room, taking it all in. The crash of a couple of tools hit the cement floor below, which I note hasa drain in the center. Easy clean up I guess.
“Nothin’,” Jacks calls out, moving to the next one and shaking his head.
Opening the cabinet doors wide, pictures assault me taking me a back. Thousands of pictures are taped to the inside and doors. Men. Women. Beaten, brutalized, covered in wounds from head to toe. It’s when my eyes land on a redhead that my heart constricts.
Carsyn.
Beaten. Bruised. Unconscious. Men taking advantage of her. I can’t see the man’s face thrusting into her, but a fury like no other threatens to explode from my chest. It’s one thing to hear it and how it affects her; it’s another thing to see it.
This sonuvabitch better be happy he’s fuckin’ dead.
“Damn. You think that’s what’s in the tubs?”
I point to Carsyn.“She’s alive and in my fuckin’ bed. So fuck if I know.”
“Shit,” Jacks murmurs.
Yeah, shit is far from it and I want to explode, but that won’t do anything in helping any of us right now. Carsyn is safe at the clubhouse, not with these fuckers. The focus of that fact allows me to keep going.
There’s nothing in the cabinet besides the pictures; it’s like he didn’t want themdirtying the space and wanted them hidden from his view.
“Christ,” Deke spits out, standing at the opened fridge. Moving to it, my stomach roils. Human body parts cut off from the body lay neatly on shelves. But that’s not what gets me queasy—it’s the fucking bite marks and half eaten hand that makes me want to hurl.
“Fucker was a cannibal?” Deke’s statement comes out more like aquestion as I see a few more parts—a leg and food with bite marks in them as well. Fuck, that guy almost had Carsyn.
“Shut it,” Jacks orders, and I agree wholeheartedly. Deke complies. “Check behind it. But don’t fuckin’ unplug it. It’ll smell like shit.”
The three of us maneuver around the large box and pull it out from the wall. Jacks looks around. “It’s back here. We need to movethe fridge. Is there another plug?”
Searching the room, there’s one over on the far wall opposite of where we are now and I nod to it. Damn thing is heavy as hell as we begin to maneuver it.
One of the doors flies open, and a fucking leg falls out. “I’m not pickin’ that shit up.” Jacks isn’t the only one not looking forward to that task.
“It’s not going to go bad right away.Let’s get this safe unlocked and see what we’ve got. If it’s a lot and going to take a shit load of time, then we put the damn part back in. If not, we get the fuck out of here,” Deke commands, and I’m happy as fuck he came home and became a brother.
He pulls out the card from his back pocket and gets to work on the lock. It’s an electronic one that beeps loud as fuck while he’s pluggingin the numbers. Guess that’s a safety feature or something… who knows.
Deke turns the handle, and the door pops open. It has a light that Deke flips on shining out of the safe.
“Guys!” Green calls from outside the room.
“Here,” I call out as he comes.
“What the fuck is this?”
“Where Hannibal likes to eat,” Deke says on a grin.
“What do ya got?”
“Safe behind there, just opened it,” Jacks responds.
“Let’s do it so we can get out of here,” Green says, coming beside us and peering in.
There are rows of little pockets and on the floor are stacks of composition books that are worn and rough. Deke begins to rifle through the shit because we can’t all fit. Deke hands shit to me, and I hand off to Green and Jacks as they take itoff to the side and make stacks.
