There’s No Place Like Home - Michael Robertson Page 0,49
do with me.”
“Oh, so you don’t want any part of it now; is that what you’re saying? A second ago, you were ready to sell him up the river.” Turning to his friend, the man said, “I think he’s lying to us, Jason. What do you reckon?”
Jason stepped toward the boy and sniffed the air. “Yeah, I smell bullshit.”
The laugh of the taller man boomed around the open space. “Well, if for no other reason than for being a rat, you’re coming to see Julius today, sunshine.”
Poor boy. It didn’t matter that he’d been trying to rat Michael out; no one deserved a trip to see Julius. Anxiety tied Michael’s stomach in knots as he watched the boy back away from the guards. His voice turned shrill, and it pulled the knots tighter. “No. Not again. No.”
As the boy got closer to the others, they parted. Alone and backed into a corner, he pulled his arms into his chest, his voice getting loud enough to echo through the high-ceilinged room. “No, please. Not again. No.”
When the men marched forward as a pair, Michael saw a silhouette of a boy slip out of the open door. It was still possible!
A deep boom sounded out as the larger of the two men drove a heavy blow into the boy’s stomach.
The boy dropped to the floor and wheezed.
The guard loomed over him, a dark smile lifting his face. “We can punch you in the stomach as much as we like. As long as Julius can’t see it, we can do what the fuck we want to you. Remember that.”
The two men took a foot each and dragged the boy toward the warehouse’s exit… the open exit… the exit that would be Michael’s freedom again.
When they were close to the door, the tall man called out, “Let this be a lesson to you all. Nobody likes a rat.”
The door crashed shut and the bolt snapped across. Silence returned to the room and Michael curled into a tight ball, hugging his knees to his chest as he shivered on the cold and damp concrete.
Vultures
Time held very little meaning in the warehouse. The monotony of sitting in the cold, open space with poor light twenty-four hours a day both depressed and disorientated Michael. A good few hours had passed; Michael knew that at least. And the others had left him alone for that time.
Not enough time had passed to ease his injuries though. Bruises wrapped his body like a hot blanket as he sat in the corner of the room and hugged his knees to his chest. To be both cold because of his environment and hot from the beating left Michael in a strange limbo that added to his exhausted state.
The older boy had been in with Julius for a long time. A shiver whipped through Michael’s body. Fuck that!
Although nothing had happened since the older boy had been taken away, chaos sat beneath the room’s lethargic atmosphere. Everyone continued to watch Michael; they just hadn’t done anything about it… yet.
The snapping bolt made Michael jump and he pushed farther back into the wall.
The huge hinge groaned as it always did. It was like a slow laugh, mocking the boys inside the room before the men came in and exerted their will upon them. Michael held his breath as he waited.
But nothing happened.
Maybe the guards had set this up as a test. See if anyone runs and punish them if they do.
The door remained open and still nothing happened. Leaning forward did little to help Michael see any better, and squinting didn’t make the dark any more penetrable.
Something large flew through the door and hit the ground with a thud.
It was a body.
Thud!
Two bodies.
Floppy and lifeless, they lay on the floor, their limbs splayed out in directions that an active body couldn’t replicate.
A man’s voice called in after them. It was the man with the sack over his head. The memory of his strong grip returned to Michael’s bicep. “Let this be a reminder of what happens to those of you that step out of line. Keep your necks wound in and life will be much more viable for you.”
Though not sure what viable meant, Michael got the gist of it—toe the line or else.
The man shut and locked the door again.
For a moment, no one moved. Other than the occasional shifting shadow, it remained still. Surely the other boys were doing the same as Michael—watching the bodies in the middle of the room and