by John Dee Cooper
© 2021
Chapter 4
"Bind their wrists together with rope."
The Colonel showed the boys how to make cuffs for the three pairs of outstretched arms by winding the rope round and then looping it into a tight knot.
"Leave just enough slack so you can get your finger underneath. That way you won't damage the flesh when they take the strain. Good. Now use this rope to hitch them up to the back of the truck."
Danny was feeling more confident now, sandwiched between Frank and Jack. When the overseer was dragging him down the rubble path, he hadn't been sure what they were going to do to him. But then he thought how it must be a pretty important emergency for them to carry three of them off in the middle of the night like this. And he'd been picked along with the two best workers on the team, so they couldn't think that badly of him. At least they weren't treating him like a child anymore.
He was shocked, though, when he saw Frank and Jack huddled together by the open truck, shivering in the torch light, their cold, naked bodies looking very grubby next to the boys in their smart overcoats and polished shoes. And Frank gave him such a dark look that Danny had almost lost heart. But slaves have a secret way of communicating in silence, with tiny gestures and movements of the eyes, so Danny was able to reassure Frank that he wasn’t frightened and that he wasn’t going to let them down.
The rope that secured them to the back of the truck was three foot long, so they had some room for manouevre, but it was clear they were going to have to start running as soon as the truck started up.
"Let me sit in the back," said Bruno as Kurt and Chad joined The Colonel in the driver’s cabin. "I can keep an eye on them. We don’t want them to trip up," he said with a gleeful twinkle in his eye.
He settled down on a pile of sacking, taking care not to scuff his shoes, and couldn't resist giving the three anxious slaves a wave.
“Hold on boys. We’re going for a little ride.”
The truck had already started to move, and the rope was tugging at their wrists, so the three slaves were too concerned about keeping their balance than to take any notice of Bruno’s jibes. Danny wavered a bit as they broke into a trot, but he could feel the strength of the two older slaves either side of him and picked up the rhythm and momentum from them.
Soon they were running at a steady pace, and Danny was trying not to think what would happen if he tripped up. It wasn't easy running with your arms stretched out in front. The balance was all wrong. It put extra strain on your back and thighs. A couple of times, when they took a corner or braked suddenly, they collided with the back of the truck and Bruno had to push them off with his foot.
"Watch you don't damage the Governor's property," he jeered, loving the spectacle of those muscular bodies bumping into one another as they ran.
"You can go faster," he shouted back through the cabin window. "They're doing pretty well so far."
The sudden acceleration caught them unawares. Danny cried out as Jack stumbled and lost his footing. He was dragged along in the dirt for a considerable distance before he was able to haul himself up onto his feet. It took all his muscle power, but somehow he managed to fall back into his stride.
"He-he!" laughed Bruno. "Nice one, boy!"
Soon they were hurtling along at such a speed that their feet were hardly touching the ground. Frank was the strongest of the three and the best runner, and Bruno was fascinated by the way the muscles in his thighs juddered as each foot hit the ground.
All three bodies were heating up now, grunting and puffing like a team of thoroughbred horses.
They had no idea where they were going or how long this ordeal was going to last. They covered every kind of terrain – earth, tarmac, concrete – and although Danny could hardly feel his feet any more, he knew they must be bruised and were probably bleeding. His chest was on fire and his throat raw red from gasping at the air. Every stride was agony, suffocating. How much more? He was just a kid. His body was burning up. He had to stop! He had to stop!
But on they sped, mercilessly, no let up, their arms aching and their hearts thumping. Why weren’t they riding in the back of the truck? There was plenty of room. They weren't going to be in a fit state to work at this rate. It was stupid. What was the point of waking them up in the middle of the night if they weren't going to be able to work?
Now they were running on smooth hard paving stones, their bones shaking every time their bare feet hit the ground. But the truck thundered on dragging them behind, till thee were lights all around them and a large building looming ahead. Everything went fuzzy. Danny’ knees crumpled and he sank to the ground. The truck was slowing to a halt. He was being grabbed and twisted and rolled over. He felt himself being hauled up a flight of stone steps and then, with his head spinning and his stomach in knots, he passed out altogether.
"I knew this one wasn't going to make it," said Bruno, kicking Danny in the stomach to make sure he wasn't shamming. "Why on earth did you pick him?"
"I don't know," said Kurt. "He caught my eye. Something about him."
"Try using this to wake him up," said the Colonel handing Kurt an electric slave prod.
Danny's limp body shook a couple of times when Kurt fired the prod against his buttocks and then the back of his neck, but it was only when Bruno grabbed the prod and squeezed it up inside his rectum that they got a result. The boy went rigid for about two seconds, then howled like an animal and thrashed about wildly. Bruno grabbed his hair and pulled him onto his feet but that didn't stop him throwing up all over Chad's shoes.
"You little bastard," snarled Bruno pushing Danny back down onto his knees and rubbing his face in the pool of vomit.
"Now lick his shoes clean."
"Hey, calm down Bruno," said Chad. "That’s disgusting. He can wipe it off, for God's sake. Don't get carried away."
"He needs to be taught a lesson."
"Chad's right," said the Colonel, throwing a paper towel at the boy. "You're pushing the slave too hard too soon. We've got all night to play with him."
When Danny had finished mopping up his mess he was told to go and stand with Frank and Jack who were still hot and breathless after the run, their steaming bodies heaving. Danny could hardly face them. He was a disgrace. A stupid, clumsy, hopeless disgrace. He wished he was back in the shelter.
Tears were clouding his vision, but once his breathing had become more regular he was able to look around. They were in a small courtyard. Opposite them was a brick building with steps leading down to a door in the basement.
The three boys were standing opposite, eyeing the slaves up
"So Uncle, what are we going to do with them?"
"Oh, I have one or two ideas..." said the Colonel with a wry smile.
No comments:
Post a Comment