Suckers - Jack Kilborn [55]
“Let’s walk into the next room, Mr. McGlade. Keep your hands where I can see them.”
Vlad didn’t strike me as a quick guy, and I might have made a try for him if he had a regular gun. But shotguns didn’t require much skill. Even if his aim was off, I’d catch some pellets.
Catching pellets sucked.
So I raised my mitts and let him lead me out of the kitchen and into the den. The décor was Goth-chic; black lights, zebra fabric, words like ‘blood’ and ‘death’ spray painted on the walls. We walked past two black-clad Pires stoned on the couch. They didn’t even glace up at us—the lava lamp was far too engrossing.
“Nice place, Vlad. You rent or own?”
“Own. Balloon mortgage. I’m thinking of refinancing.”
“Now’s a good time. Rates are low.”
From the den we went down a short hall, through a doorway festooned with hanging beads, and came upon…
“What is this? A porno movie?”
“It’s an orgy, Mr. McGlade. In your honor.”
I stared at the writhing, squirming pile of naked flesh stretching across the floor, most of it female. The participants ranged in age from teens to mid-forties, but everyone I locked my eyes on was pretty, trim, and athletic. Some were also tremendously flexible.
“In my honor?” I glanced at Vlad. He gave me an ‘aw shucks’ smile, somewhat hampered by his fangs.
“The Pires have followed your exploits, Mr. McGlade. You’re a legend. We’re honored to have you here at the Den.”
One of the undulating naked women glanced in our direction and let out a squeal of delight when her eyes met mine. She disengaged from her partner with an audible pop and crawled over to me, locking her hands on my upper thigh.
“Honored, huh?” I said, though in my head I was already composing my letter to Penthouse.
“More than honored. This is indeed a sacred day.”
Two more naked women scuttled over, pawing my masculine parts. Though the lighting was low, I could tell by the facial jewelry that one of them was Tanya, the girl I’d come to rescue.
The other was her mother, Josie.
I’d been set up, and good. But why? And did I really care?
“So, you’re not going to kill me?”
“Kill you?” Vlad laughed. “Mr. McGlade, we’d be honored if you joined us. But let’s not talk of business now. Why don’t you spend some time getting to know the warren.” Vlad nudged me into the room with the shotgun. “They certainly seem eager to get to know you.”
I shrugged. “Well, when in Rome…”
Then I unzipped my pants and waded into the sea of decadence.
If I were a nicer guy, I perhaps might have wondered what was going on with Andrew Mahogany and the Pit.
But I’m not a nicer guy.
“Nobody would have to know if you didn’t really throw me into the Pit,” I explained to the goons as they led me down a gloomy hallway. “Your boss would just say ‘Hey, did you throw that guy into the Pit?’ and you’d say ‘Yep, we sure did,’ and he’d say ‘Great, thanks,’ and you’d say ‘No problem.’ It’s a win-win situation for everybody.”
“Shut up,” said the goon with the chainsaw.
“I’m just trying to save you some labor. You could go take a smoke break.”
We reached the end of the hallway. The goon with the wacky knife pushed past me and opened the door. “Get in there,” he said.
It was too dark to see clearly inside the room, but one element was rather obvious. “That’s not a pit,” I said.
“So what? Get in there.”
“Why do you call it the Pit? It’s got a regular floor.”
“Vlad wanted to call it the Pit, so we call it the Pit.”
“But it’s not a pit. A pit is concave. That’s a room.”
“I know it’s a room. But what’re we gonna call it, the Room? That’s not scary.”
“How about The Scary Room?”
“Shut up.”
“Are there, like, peach pits or cherry pits scattered around the floor or something?” I asked. “If you want to come up with an intimidating name that exaggerates the terror, that’s fine, but to call it the Pit when there’s no actual pit involved is kind of asinine.”
I had a couple of reasons for harping on the whole pit thing apart from trying to show off my rapier wit in the face of danger. First of all, it served as a nice defense