Dark Shadows (29 page)

Chapter Forty-Nine

As Mercy was dragged down from the trap, she took a quick look at her surroundings. She stood and inadvertently yawned. Eddie laughed again.

“Bored, are we?” he asked her.

Mercy ignored him and looked around her. An attractive wooden house with a wrap-around porch greeted her. There were two barns close to the house, where she believed she would be taken to be killed. White waist-high picket fences surrounded open fields, and beyond were dense woods.
This is du Pont’s lair
, she thought with hatred and disgust. She’d see her any time now, gloating, laughing, and no doubt delighted at the prospect of killing again.

She was pushed forward, not to one of the barns but to some stairs at the side of the house. At the bottom of these stairs was a passageway with an old wooden door at the end. The wall of the house was on her left, and an earthen bank was to her right.

Eddie opened the door with a large, rusty key. It was dark inside, but Mercy could just make out a small landing and then some wooden stairs. She shuddered. It was like a black hole down those stairs.

Eddie stopped in front of her and lit a fat candle. He moved down the stairs. A poke in the back from the black man encouraged her to carefully follow Eddie all the way to the bottom.

Eddie placed the candle on a table sitting against the back wall of the airless room and lifted keys off a hook above it.

The black giant, who had not given any indication of what was going to happen, watched Mercy. He suddenly surprised her by pushing her hard against a side wall, knocking the air out of her lungs. He forced her to the ground with a strength that made her squeal with fright. He calmly attached iron bracelets to her wrists.

Eddie moved closer, guiding the slave with the candle. She was being shackled, like the black people she’d seen in Norfolk.

Eddie tossed the slave the keys, and he locked the shackles in place. He then lifted her arms high above her head, and she moaned in pain. One long chain was attached to the central bar between the wrist shackles. She craned her neck in the semi-darkness and could make out an iron shaft sticking out of the wall, with a ring at the end of it.

The slave took a padlock from Eddie and hooked it to her chain. He then attached it to the ring at the end of the wall shaft and clicked the padlock closed, until both shaft ring and her chain connected like a necklace. He tugged at the chain and then at her wrist shackles. He nodded to Eddie and threw the heavy keys back to him, and Eddie hung them again on the wall.

Eddie slapped the slave on the back and got down to Mercy’s level. He lifted the candle to her face, blinding her.

Mercy’s arms felt as though they would break at the shoulders. She looked into the blinding light and smelled Eddie’s breath. She felt the candle’s flame burning her cheeks.

Eddie’s fingers whipped her head around to face front. His head suddenly swooped in, and his mouth connected with hers in a deep, penetrating kiss. He said, “If I had my way, I’d kill you right now and be done with you. But as it stands, keeping you alive will bring me some more of those dollar bills. So I’ll be back later, depending on how I feel after I eat a nice cooked chicken and drink a few beers, and then we’ll have some fun to pass the time. You’d like some fun before you die, wouldn’t you, Mercy? I can give you that. Something nice to take to your grave.”

Mercy jerked her face away from him. She couldn’t bear to look in his direction.

“Hmmm. We’ve got all night, you and me,” she heard him say. “Mrs Mallory won’t be back till morning, so you can enjoy a night with the rats and your last day on Earth thinking about what a bad, bad girl you’ve been. She’ll finish you good this time.”

Mercy spat in his face. “You’re a bloody rat, Eddie. No, you’re du Pont’s dog, wagging your tail when she gives her orders. Well, I’ve never been scared of dogs or rats,” Mercy threw at him. “Let her come. And when she gets here, be sure to tell her that it was me who burned down her bloody house in Liverpool. See how she likes that!”

She still refused to look at him, but she heard his intake of breath and felt his fist connect with her cheek. Her head banged against the uneven wall. She cried out in pain. Then she finally saw his face as it came within inches of her own. She spat at him again, aiming for his eyes. Her mouth was dry, but a smattering of saliva dribbled down his forehead.

He wiped the droplets away with his sleeve and surprised her by smiling. Then he laughed. “You fucking clever whore. So it was you who destroyed du Pont’s empire? I have to give it to you; you’ve got spunk.” He laughed again. “She doesn’t even know you’re here, so she didn’t order me to take you. That was me, all me – woof, woof! You’ll be a nice surprise for her when she gets here.”

“I’ll look forward to seeing her, so I will,” Mercy told him defiantly. “And I’m not a whore. I left that bloody house a virgin.”

Eddie ignored her words. “Oh, she’s going to have a great time finishing you off. It won’t be a quick slice of the throat, though; I’ll tell you that for nothing. She’s going to make you suffer slowly, and I’m going to enjoy watching.”

“I’m not scared of you or her. Do you hear me? I’m not scared, you arse licker!” Mercy shouted as Eddie moved away into the dark shadows.

She sat and watched both men climb the stairs. The door opened, and then the candle was snuffed out. She was left in the darkness, terrified and alone.

Chapter Fifty

Mercy sat in the black freezing-cold room, defeated, afraid, yet strangely calm. Her cursing bothered her, and she silently said sorry to God. Her arms were so painful that she decided to try to stand up. Twisting her legs, she brought her knees up to her chest and turned to face the wall. She then palmed her way up the rough stones until she stood at shoulder level with the iron shaft that held the rings, padlock, and chain. She turned around again and leaned against the wall with her arms mercifully lying at a more or less correct angle.

She sighed with a half sob. Madame du Pont was going to inflict excruciating pain on her body. She’d seen what the woman was capable of. Her bravado in front of Eddie had only stoked the fire, for when du Pont found out that Mercy had burned down the mansion, she’d make her suffer even more.
You’re so stupid, Mercy Carver. Stupid and prideful.
She could kick herself for those words to Eddie.

God had swooped down to effect vengeance on her for murdering an innocent man. He had brought Du Pont to carry out the sentence for him. Only God could have made this situation come about. This was her punishment, her comeuppance, as her grandfather used to say. “You’ll get your comeuppance, girl, if you do that.”

She sobbed now. Grandpa’s judgements had been lenient in comparison: a caning or a few slaps on the backside with a shoe, a couple of days without food – but this? She should be screaming at the thought of dying. Why wasn’t she screaming? She felt numb and witless; that was why. She couldn’t imagine not being alive. She pictured her throat being sliced open and felt nothing. She saw herself being punched and stabbed – nothing. Death, she decided, was simply unimaginable.

Mercy’s breath caught in her throat. She stared into the darkness, swearing she had heard a voice coming from somewhere in the basement.

“Miss – miss, can you see me? Over here. I’s over here.”

Mercy clearly heard the soft, deep voice, but she couldn’t see an inch in front of her face. She focused her eyes, looking to her left, right, and front. The sunny morning had gone, and the grey light outside was almost redundant. Even the small shaft of light shining through a hole in the stone wall had diminished.

She heard a rattling of chains, and again, and a third time. She was not alone in this dungeon. Who was here with her? Whoever was there, he’d remained silent while she was being shackled, and Eddie and the giant slave had completely ignored him.

“Who are you? Where are you? I can’t see you. Are you chained up too?”

“Over here, miss, against the other wall – near the table. I’s at the corner wall next to the table. My feet are shackled real tight. I’s sittin’ on the floor. I can’t move.”

“I’m sorry. I can’t see you,” Mercy said again, trying desperately to locate him. “Can you see me?”

“I sees you, miss. I sees you when you came down here.” He rattled the irons again to give her direction.

This time Mercy looked to where she remembered seeing the table – and then to the right. The chains were still rattling. The noise was as heavy as the irons. She looked again. The small shaft of light from the broken wall stone settled on specks of dust falling softly down the wall diagonally in front of her. The ray of daylight cast itself upon them. She followed the dust until it settled, and then she saw the outline of a head. The man’s body was impossible to make out because of his ebony skin. However, the sand-coloured dust was like tiny shining crystals raining in the air. She focused her eyes on the head and said, “Rattle the chains again – harder this time.”

He did so. She noticed that every time he rattled his chain, the anchored wall shaft moved slightly, which in turn made the dust fall.

A thought entered her head. She turned to the wall behind her and felt its texture with her palms. She scraped her fingernails along the grouting between the stones. It was soft, yes – just like sand. Every time she shook the iron shaft, sand dust fell. If she could wiggle the shaft enough, it might just come loose from the wall.

“What’s your name?”

“Nelson – Nelson Stuart from Stuart Plantation. They gone now, the massa and mistress, gone to live in the city. Sold me at auction to Mr Eddie and the devil woman,” he said even more miserably.

“Nelson, I’m Mercy, Mercy Carver. I’m going to try to loosen the shaft like the one high above you. Can you try too?”

“I gone did try, Miss Mercy, but I can’t reach it. I’m as strong as an ox, but I can’t stand on my feet to get at it, on account of being in irons.”

Mercy nodded in the darkness. “Nelson, how often does Eddie come down here?” she asked.

“I ain’t got no way of knowin’. I ain’t got no way of telling how long I been here, but he ain’t come with no food or water, and I knows it’s been day and night twice now. I’m mighty thirsty. I don’t reckon I’ll see mornin’.”

“I’m going to try to free myself, and then I’ll unlock your shackles. Do you know how to pray?”

“I sure do. I pray to the good Lord every day,” he told her proudly.

“All right – then start praying.”

There was hope, Mercy kept repeating in her head. If she could just get the shaft out of the wall before Eddie came back, she would be free.

“Please God, please God, save me,” she whispered in the darkness. “I can do this. That bleedin’ woman is not going to get me again. Please help me. Come on, you bloody stupid wall. Fall down.”

After some time, and now with bleeding palms and fingers, she admitted that the shaft probably wasn’t going to move enough to come all the way out. It was hammered far too deep.

She leaned against the wall, not quite ready to give up but panting for breath. She was exhausted. She would kill for a drop of water. “I’m sorry, Nelson. I don’t think I can do it.”

“You can do it, Miss Mercy. You got to do it or you be dead come mornin’. You can do it. I knows you can.”

Mercy’s silent tears were broken by soft sobs. She had cried more this past year than she had in her entire life. But this was no time to cry. She had to keep trying to loosen the shaft. Did she want to die a horrible death? No! Did she want to see the face of that vile du Pont again? No! She would rather rip her hands to shreds than die here at
her
hand.

“I’ll try,” she told her faceless companion.

She grunted and panted, twisting and turning the shaft. She pushed it up, pulled it down. It moved slightly from side to side, around and around, until finally, in one circular movement, she felt it loosen. It became easier to move in all directions after that. She giggled. “Come on, you bleedin’ stupid thing. Get out. I can do this. I can do it!”

She pulled at it. The shaft moved out an inch, bringing with it dust that stung her eyes. She pulled again, leaning back and using the weight of her body for leverage. The dust was thicker, and sand was breaking off in lumps. She pulled again, as hard as she could, and suddenly found herself on the other side of the room, sitting on a sore backside.

“Nelson,” she groaned. “Nelson, I did it. I did it! I’m going to find the keys.”

She heard his sigh of relief. “You did it. Lord above, you gone and did it. Hurry, Miss Mercy,” he urged her.

Mercy moved on all fours with difficulty. Her shackles, chain, and padlocked shaft made it hard for her to do much more than shuffle her body in small awkward movements. She did not want to stand. She was blind in the darkness and would probably bump into something and knock herself out. The floor was safer. Finally, her knuckles hit a wall, scraping them. She grimaced. Her hands were bloodied and torn already, but she didn’t care. Again she palmed her way up the wall, using her hands to feel for the hook that held the keys. She pictured Eddie holding the candle and knew that the keys were halfway up the wall and halfway along it. The heavy shackles restricted her movements. She tried to hold her arms up, but the irons fought to bring them down. Her fingertips tapped along, and then she felt the keys. They jingled at her touch.

“Don’t bloody drop them, Mercy,” she whispered. She grasped the keys in her right hand and cried with relief. “Nelson, say something,” she said quite loudly.

“I’s here. Follow my voice. I’s here. That’s it. I hear your chains. They be gettin’ louder.”

Mercy touched a leg and took a sharp breath. “Oh, I’m sorry,” she said nervously. She followed his leg with her hands to his ankles and found his shackled feet. Tracing the centre bar, she found the keyhole. Her hands were shaking, cumbersome, and difficult to manoeuvre, but she managed to get the first of the three keys in her fingers and tried pushing it in the hole.

“No, not that one,” she told Nelson. She tried the second. When she slipped it in and turned it to the right, the shackles sprang open.

Mercy then used Nelson’s body as a guide. She pulled herself up by his torso until she stood upright. She lifted her arms high above his head as she got to her feet. She felt the wrist chain and followed it to his hands. She found the shackles and smiled.

This time she found the right key in her first attempt. The shackles once again jumped open, crashing to the ground. The noise was loud, and she began to panic. “Nelson, untie me – quickly,” she begged him.

Nelson found her fingers and took the keys from her. On his third attempt and with the last key, she was freed from her chains.