Crik by Karl Beer Page B

table in front of the children. Inara licked her dry lips. Light ushered in from the open door betrayed the fear in her eyes. Still reeling in shock after discovering Inara had lost her legs, Jack fought against his rising panic. The bloated stomachs forced up against the side of the cage, did not help, he felt weak and disorientated. To make matters worse, the new light had made Yang stronger; delighting his shadow who began rocking the cage; the vermin squealed.
    Picking at his scar, Krimble ignored the cage. The wooden chair gave his bent back some trouble; after a few attempts at getting himself comfortable, he finally settled down, his nose hovering a few inches above the wooden top. Glints of light, dancing on wet corneas, peaked through bushy eyebrows, stealing Jack’s attention from his wayward twin.
    ‘Leave us go,’ Jack told the leering face.
    Inara’s shrill laugh answered Jack. ‘Don’t my missing legs tell you anything? Why haven’t I asked if he would let me go? How stupid I am.’
    ‘Quiet, you’ll upset him,’ said Bill, pushing his chair back with his toes, getting as much distance as possible between himself and Krimble.
    ‘Upset this piece of marsh piss,’ said Inara, wagging her finger at Krimble. ‘Why would I want to do that? He’s done nothing to me!’
    Krimble remained silent, first looking with longing at Jack, then Bill, and finally Yang. His haggard face lit up when the rats retreated from the fingers Yang fed through the wire mesh.
    ‘I don’t think they like you stroking them,’ said Krimble. ‘Please continue, they are vermin, and what they want doesn’t matter. These disease riddled creatures do nothing but pick over my leftovers. However, if you care to keep one, please be my guest, take any you fancy.’
    Eager to possess a rat, Yang slipped his hand inside the cage, catching the fattest occupant by its tail. The rat cried in alarm when Yang lifted it over its scrabbling companions.
    ‘Good,’ said Krimble, reaching for the lock atop the cage. Yang extracted the rat from the open door. ‘Don’t let it escape,’ warned Krimble.
    Jack wanted to tell Yang to put the rat back, not wanting his shadow accepting anything from his captor. To escape, he needed Yang to stay focused, and with the light shining in from the landing, his shadow had the strength to manipulate his bonds. If Bill could distract Krimble long enough, Yang could release him; when Krimble left, Jack would untie Bill and seek a means to leave the room. Without a way to communicate his plan with Yang, he failed to see how to implement it. Inara laughed into her hand, Yang cradled the rat like a doll, swinging its furry body to within inches of the candle’s flame.
    ‘It will burn,’ said Inara through a wide smile as Yang again swung the rat.
    ‘She’s lost her mind,’ said Bill.
    Jack refused to comment. Considering what had happened to her, who could blame her if she did have a few screws loose. The way Krimble hunched forward over the table made him appear pitiable; another person with a ruined spine and scarred visage would invoke just that reaction from Jack, but the torture he had inflicted upon Inara left no room for sympathy.
    ‘What’s your name?’
    Jack found Krimble addressed him. ‘You know my name; you knew it before I could tell you. Now untie me!’
    ‘What’s your name?’ Krimble repeated in a beseeching tone.
    Incredulous, both Jack and Bill shared a look. Both boys wondered whether during his isolation in the marsh Krimble had grown crazy.
    When Krimble asked a third time, Inara said, ‘He’s not speaking to you.’
    ‘What do you mean he’s not speaking to me? He’s looking directly at me,’ said Jack.
    Shaking her head, Inara said, ‘What he wants lives inside you. He doesn’t care about us; we’re the same as that cage. We give home to his desire; nothing more.’
    ‘What’re you talking about?’ said Bill. ‘You aren’t making any sense.’
    ‘He doesn’t