RAT! Alec screamed. He scrambled backwards, kicking out. Fucking rats! Jesus fucking ... There was someone behind him. OhGodohGodohGodohGodohGod ... Alec looked up into that lifeless rubber face. 'Please ...' The Flesher grabbed him by the collar and dragged him, kicking and screaming, back through the door and into the darkness.
61
'Unnnnnnnnngh ...' Logan rolled over onto his side and threw up on the hard dirt floor. 'Are you OK?' Faulds stood back, nose wrinkled against the smell. Logan coughed, spat out a bitter mouthful and struggled to his knees; Jackie dragged him to his feet then held him upright, her body warm against his. 'What the hell were you thinking, charging in here on your own like something out of bloody Die Hard?' His head was swimming. 'She was screaming for help. What was I supposed to do?' 'My God ...' Faulds had opened one of the chest freezers. 'It's full of meat ...' He pulled out a chunk of frozen breast, the areola pale purple in its clear plastic vacuum pack. Jackie let go and wandered over to the far wall. 'There's some sort of grave in the corner ... 'Here lie the mortal remains of Catherine Davidson, beloved companion. Died 14th September 2001.' What the hell's that supposed to mean?' Logan closed his eyes for a moment, then peered out at the low room. The whole place had been lined with chipboard - the wood swollen and peppered with mildew. A large stainless steel butcher's table sat against the opposite wall, a set of knives displayed above it on a pair of magnetic strips. The curtained-off entrance Logan had rushed through lay open, showing the dirt tunnel back towards the house. Another pair of curtains partially hid an opening beside the butcher's table, and a third pair hung at the far end of the row of freezers. 'Where's Alec?' They found him behind curtain number two. It was a kitchen - the walls covered with the same grimy wood, the floor with chunks of faded carpet. A pair of red Calor Gas bottles sat in the corner, hooked up to a spotless gas hob and oven. 1970s-style work surfaces and cupboards lined the room in shades of dirty cream and faded mahogany. The whole room reeked of blood and garlic. Alec was hanging upside down in the middle of the room over a tin bath full of dark red, his skin so pale it was nearly translucent. He was still warm. Faulds swore, then turned on Logan. 'Why the hell did you bring him down here? He was a civilian!' 'I didn't know ...' 'Do you have any idea what the BBC are going to do to us? It's going to be a PR disaster!' 'Alec, you silly, silly bastard ...' A circular hole sat in the top of Alec's head, dripping pink and grey gloop into the bathtub full of blood.
