The Dying Place (13 page)

The days would drag, only broken up by the arrival of some more food during what they guessed was the afternoon. Someone would have a shit and stink the place out for a bit. Get moaned at, but then forgotten.

No one looked forward to the evenings. Yeah, it was nice to get out of the Dorm, but it wasn’t worth it.

Goldie went first or second, usually. Frogmarched out, guns trained on him all the time … and him not suddenly becoming that bloke in those action films, Jason something, able to take out four guys holding weapons and making a run for it.

He’d be taken into a different building than the one which held the rack. This was slightly bigger, more sparse. Dirty floor and wind blowing through the gaps in the wood-covered walls. He knew the drill now. Walk to the middle, as the three men lined up in front of him. Then the exercises would begin.

Push-ups, sit-ups, jogging on the spot, star jumps. Those were the easy parts.

‘I’m not doing this,’ Goldie had said after he’d started feeling dizzy in the first few days.

‘Then you’re no use to us. We’ll put a bullet in your head and bury you out there in the farmland. No one will ever find you.’

It was amazing the energy that could suddenly be found when you believed someone would have no problem with digging a hole for your dead body.

After the warm-up, it was time for the hard part, holding himself in the push-up position with just his fingers, waiting for them to buckle so he would fall face first into the floor. Then, if they weren’t happy with how long you had done it for, starting all over again. Squatting down, all your weight on your thigh muscles, burning, stretching. Agony setting in quickly.

All the time, he had Gamma or Delta shouting at him for any wrong move he made. For any time they believed he wasn’t putting in enough effort. It didn’t matter that he never had time to rest his body, other than on the odd days they didn’t show up in the evenings.

Being made to lie face down on the floor, raising his hands and feet until they told him he could put them down.

The stretching was the worst. Being forced into unnatural positions, which caused him to cry out in pain every time. Placing his hands into the small of his back and squeezing his elbows together, stretching out his chest. Then, inevitably, one of them would come over and force his elbows together.

Those were the easy parts.

‘Pull your arms back.’

‘You’re not trying hard enough.’

‘You fucking piece of shit, move.’

Voices getting louder all the time. Screaming by this point, right into his ear.

Then he’d do something they didn’t like.

It started out weird. Like they were scared or something. It got worse quickly though.

Goldie didn’t know how long it had taken for the first time. Maybe a week. Ten days maybe. He’d noticed Dean coming back into the Dorm, wincing a little, a little crusted blood under his nose. Goldie had put it down to not being up to the physical part of it.

Then he’d felt it himself. The build-up.

‘Why are we even bothering ourselves doing this?’ he’d heard Tango say one day. Whispered for effect. ‘He’s just a scally no-mark. This isn’t going to do anything.’

Goldie had made the mistake of replying. ‘Fucking right, mate.’

He felt a crack as he was lifted off the floor, halfway through another press-up, flipping over onto his back.

‘What are you doing?’ Goldie had heard the other one say.

‘The only thing these pricks understand.’

Goldie tried bracing himself, but it didn’t matter. A boot came into his side, making him double up. Trying to breathe, the wind taken out of him. A hand grabbing him by the ear, stretching, pulling his head up as he still struggled to get his breath back.

Tango’s fist pounding into his face. Dull weight crashing into him, over and over.

That was just the first time. Now it was an excuse for a couple of blokes to do him over every few days. Working out their frustration. Him forced to lie there and take it. Not able to fight back.

At least it was just being beaten up. That’s what got him through it. No one had tried to do anything else. Sexual, or whatever. He wouldn’t have been able to take that, he decided.

He could take the physical part. That was exhausting but easy. It was never knowing when they were going to start.
If
they were going to start.

Being afraid wasn’t easy for him.

Afterwards, he was allowed a shower, and then it was his time with Alpha. Back in the rack room. It was covered now, but Goldie knew what lay beneath the cloth. At that point, the other lads had all been on there except Craig, but Goldie knew he’d get his turn eventually.

‘How are you today, Joshua?’ Alpha said as he sat down in the chair opposite him. Goldie hated that he’d told him his real name, but he was sure he knew anyway. Was sure they knew all they could about him.

‘I’d like to go home,’ Goldie replied. The same thing every time. Hoped that one day he’d get the answer he wanted.

‘Well, you’re making good progress, but it’s still a little early for that I think.’

Goldie sat back, folded his arms, but then let them hang loose as he earned a withering look from Alpha.

Every day was the same. Over and over, drummed into them, the errors they’d made. Some days they had lessons, of a kind. How to manage money, how to look for jobs.

‘You’ve got to be willing to work from the very bottom level. The nastiest, scummiest job you can think of can lead to anything you like. It’s all experience. You have to get out there, show tenacity and persistence. We all had to do it years ago. There was no dossing around, living on benefits and just popping out a kid if you wanted a bit more money. No big flat-screen TV bought on HP from bloody BrightHouse or wherever. You worked hard for the luxuries. You worked hard, full stop. That’s what you’re going to do if you ever leave here.’

Goldie understood the message, even if sometimes they used words he’d never heard before. They made it sound easy, like he could just go out there and work his way up the ladder just by working hard. He doubted they really knew the score these days. It was shit jobs, for shit money.

He nodded along and said yes in all the right places though. Sometimes his eyes would betray him and Alpha would cock his head. That was a cue for Goldie to brace himself as the whip was used on him. Welts appearing across his face for the other lads to stare at. Occasionally his mouth would get him into trouble, but for the most part he was keeping his head down. Just waiting.

‘Last night we spoke about what you had been doing since you left school.’

It was all they ever spoke about, Goldie thought.

‘Yes.’

‘What do you think about your behaviour now you’ve had some time to reflect?’

Goldie went into standard mode. ‘It was really terrible, what we did to those people. I would never do it again, swear down.’

Alpha tutted in response. ‘There’s that “we” word again, Joshua. You’re not accepting full responsibility for your actions.
You
did these things. Tell me some of them again.’

Goldie almost sighed, but eyed the handgun in Alpha’s hand – finger resting on the trigger as always – and thought better of it. ‘I dunno … we … I robbed some kids of mobile phones. Got pisse—I mean drunk, in the street outside people’s houses and then shouted stuff at them when they moaned …’

‘Not moaned.’

‘Sorry, yeah, I mean … erm … complained.’

‘What else?’

Goldie had gone through the list so many times it should have been easy to remember all the things, but he didn’t want to. It sounded so stupid when he said them out loud. Kid stuff, really.

‘Gone on the rob too many times. From shops and that. Fuc—beat up other people for a laugh.’

Alpha shifted the gun from one hand to the other, seeming to relax a little. Goldie had waited over the previous months for a single slip, one mistake that he could use. He was always too slow though, too scared to take any chance of escape.

‘You’re still holding back on me.’

Goldie’s eyes shifted left. He rubbed his palms together, sweat making them feel greasy.

‘I’m not …’

‘You are. And I’m tired of it.’

Goldie thought for a few seconds. Tried not to think about the worst things he’d done.

‘It’s written all over your face. I’ll say it again. We can’t move forward here until you’re completely honest. So, tell me what is it that you don’t want to tell me.’

Goldie closed his eyes for a second. Two, maybe. Remembered the face of the woman. Grey, lined with years of life.

Then, afterwards.

‘We robbed a house once,’ Goldie said, his voice quiet and shaking. ‘Thought it would be in and out. Only did it for a laugh. Didn’t really need anything but thought we’d get a few extra quid.’

Alpha leant forward, one hand on the gun, the other laying beneath the table. ‘What happened?’

Goldie breathed in. ‘She woke up. The old girl that lived there. Came down and scared the shit out of us.’

‘Us?’

‘Just me and a couple of mates. Don’t hang around with them any more.’

‘What happened then?’

‘She came in the living room, just as Joe was shitting on her carpet. Put the big light on and we all froze … well, nearly all of us. Joe carried on like it was nothing. She starts screaming at us. It’d been a laugh up until then. Just robbing a bit of jewellery she’d left downstairs, some notes out her purse and that. It wasn’t like she had anything worth nicking really. That’s why Joe decided to do that. Anyway, this old girl, she starts kicking off big time. Had hold of this big walking stick and is just waving it in front of her, like she was about to beat the shit out of us with it. I’m just stood there staring, ’cause I can’t believe she’s woken up. Joe is trying to pull his kecks up. But Chris … Chris is stood the closest to her. Had hold of the hammer we’d brought …’

Goldie swallowed, risked taking a look towards Alpha, looking away as the man’s eyes stared towards him.

‘What happened then?’

Goldie put his head in his hands. He didn’t want to say any of this. Never thought he would tell another person until he was on his deathbed.

‘He swung at her. She just crumpled into a heap. He gave her a few more kicks when she was down, but by that time Joe had got up and was dragging us both away.’

‘Did she die?’

‘I kept checking the
Echo
, but it didn’t show up for a few days. She didn’t die. Not right away. She was old though, so maybe that was it?’

Alpha nodded a little. ‘Put your left hand on the table. Spread out your fingers. Omega, come over here.’

Goldie frowned but did as he was told.

‘Hold his shoulders,’ Alpha said, looking past him towards Omega.

Goldie worked out what was happening too late. He watched as Alpha drew out the hand that had been underneath the table. Goldie blinked as the blade came into view. Alpha grabbed his hand.

‘This’ll make you always remember what you did.’

The pain wasn’t instant. It was a dull siren, coming from a few streets away, getting louder by the second.

‘What have you done? This wasn’t supposed …’

‘Be quiet, Omega.’

Goldie stared down at his hand as if it was alien to him, not connected at all. The space where his little finger had been now filling with blood. Realisation hit him then. He shook back in his chair, barrelling Omega over, holding onto his hand as he got to his feet, Omega on the floor, the gun he’d been holding scattering across the room.

‘What the fuck? What have you done?’ Goldie screamed, turning to face Alpha.

The man in the balaclava and suit stared back at him, moving only to point the gun towards him. ‘Don’t do anything stupid.’

Goldie wanted to. Wanted to do something, anything. Stared at the gun and thought about how quick that bullet could travel. He was barely aware of Omega getting to his feet.

Goldie made a decision, just as the pain from his hand began to really set in. He dived to the floor, determined to get to the other gun, crawling across the room out of sight of Alpha. Heard the older man swear and start moving. Omega was slow to react, screeching out in pain as Goldie reached him standing and sank his teeth into his leg. Quick, just enough to make him move back and give him more time. He saw the shotgun at the end of the table, lying on the floor, the barrel facing him. Goldie lunged, his hands closing around the stock and pulling it towards him.

A boot crunched down onto his ankle, then the world exploded, his ears ringing. Wind passing by his face, turning away to the heat. His grip on the shotgun faltering as he blinked into the space above him.

‘Don’t fucking move.’

Goldie could feel the blood seeping out of him onto the cold, hard floor.

‘Let go, now.’

Goldie did as he was told and closed his eyes. Thought about his now-deformed hand and allowed the pain to swell over him.

Omega turned on Alpha as soon as the boy had been taken away by Delta and Gamma to be patched up. Somehow. He wasn’t sure how the hell they were supposed to fix a severed finger.

‘What were you doing?’ he said, unable to hold back his anger. ‘You could have killed him.’

‘And then what? What do you think we’re running here … a nice little bootcamp where they can all live happily together?’

Omega stumbled over his words. ‘No … I just … I just don’t think we should be doing that type of thing. I know what the others do to them. Don’t think I’m stupid. I’ve seen the bruises, the marks being left on those boys. But you and me. We’re men of God. That’s what you promised me.’

‘Hebrews 9:22.’

Omega paused, remembering the verse.

‘You don’t remember it,
Omega
? Let me refresh your memory.
Under the law almost everything is purified with blood, and without the shedding of blood there is no forgiveness of sins.
’

Omega blinked once, twice.

‘We’re doing a good thing here. We need to teach them the error of their ways. Teach them that their sin will not go unnoticed. You heard what he said before. He let an old, defenceless woman die because of his actions. He needed to learn that his actions have consequences. He’s lucky we didn’t take it further.’