Anastasia screams, twisting in place, desperate to get away from that claw.
She’s not successful and the tiger snags her again.
“She’s loud right now.” Gerald shouts this over the roar of the tiger. But he’s still calm. “Trust me, though. She’s very well behaved under normal circumstances. She would make an excellent concubine.”
“I’m not looking for a concubine.”
“Right.” Gerald sighs, but wisely decides to keep his disapproval for why I’m here tonight to himself.
“Can she fight?”
Gerald gives me a tight-lipped smile. “Onward, Philip. Not this one.”
Anastasia begs us not to leave but her wails are drowned out by the roar of the tiger and the starting of the Land Cruiser’s engine.
We do leave her there, our vehicle slowly meandering down the gravel road that twists and turns through the jungle until we get to a massive double gate. Thick beams of vertical steel wall one enclosure off from another. We have to drive up, press a code in the security system, then drive through. Stop, as the gate behind us closed, then wait as security cameras scan the lock for animals, and then drive through the second gate once some unknown signal indicates we are clear to move forward.
Think Jurassic Park. That’s what that gate looks like.
The next girl is pretty much the same. Blonde and blue-eyed. White dress. Screaming. Maybe a little louder than the last one. But she is surrounded by gorillas. One has a hold of her long, yellow hair and is yanking her head towards the bars of the cage.
“Jesus Christ, Gerald. When did you get gorillas?”
“These old things?” I can just barely make out his chuckling words over the screaming girl. “Some shipping intercept late last year.” He is practically yelling over the ruckus. “Smugglers. They’re only temporary. We have seven internationally famous zoos coming for a bidding war next week. But while they’re here, might as well make the most of them.”
“Hmm.” I say this just as the girl breaks free of the gorilla’s grip—losing a handful of hair in the process.
“Her name is Dalia.” Gerald is still raising his voice to be heard. “Any interest?”
“Does she fight?”
“Onward, Philip. Mr. Boucher will be putting us through our paces tonight.”
Philip didn’t even bother turning the engine off for this one so he just starts rolling forward. But in that same instant a gorilla attacks us, flinging his massive four-hundred-pound body against the bars surrounding the back of the truck. We rock to the side and for a moment I hold my breath and wonder if we will be tipped over.
“Fuck!” Another gorilla attacks, his face right up against the bars where I’m sitting, his arms reaching in to grab at my shirt. He yanks it tight until the fabric is almost choking me around my neck.
Then he opens his mouth, baring long, inhuman canines, and vocalizes some mixture of a scream and a roar.
Gerald leans an outstretched arm past me and an airhorn blares in my ears.
The gorilla drops off, temporarily stunned, my ears ringing as Philip drives forward with some speed.
I glance over my shoulder, expecting them to trail after us and attack again, but they turn back to the girl in the cage.
“Fuck!” I say again.
“It’s all very exciting, isn’t it?”
“I guess.” Then I take one last look over my shoulder as I adjust my shirt, pulling it away from my neck. “Why do you do this? What’s the point? I mean, can’t you just sell them on a stage somewhere?”
Gerald huffs. “Like a racehorse? Like something ordinary? These girls are not ordinary, Adam. We are not ordinary. We want everyone to know what they’re getting when they come to a sale like this.”
“Animals?”
“Some of them. But these girls deserve this much drama. They are worth it.”
“I’m not sure the one who just lost a chunk of her hair would agree with you.”
“She will look back on this night with awe. One day her life will be predictable and boring and she will remember the night she was chosen and paid for. She will remember the way her heart beat fast. She will remember the pain of getting her hair ripped out by a massive, full-grown silverback gorilla. She will remember her fear and she will long for it.”
I find that hard to believe, but I don’t say so.
“Really, it just makes the men feel good.”
Which is just… sick. But I’ve said enough tonight. My disapproval has been communicated and logged. No need to make a scene. My position in the Company is high and absolute, but only to a point.
If they ever figured out how that whole Santa Barbara incident came to be… well. I would no longer have this position and influence and that kind of defeats the point, doesn’t it?
So I shut up about the girls.
“They see one.” Gerald is still on topic though. “Connect with her. Feel sorry for her. Want to alleviate her fear and save her. It’s a special moment for both parties.”
I look through the bars of the truck and bite my tongue.
We drive through the next lock, then cross a bridge and enter a swamp. The first cage holds a girl—younger than the other two, and perched precariously at the top of the cage. Her bare feet are planted on two shallow ledges on either side of the cage walls so that her legs are spread open.
When I look down I see why.
Gators. Lots of them. And a slot in the bottom of her cage that allows some—the smaller ones—to slither inside the cage with her.
This girl is not screaming. She’s panting. Mad, ragged, breaths that come very near to being hyperventilation.
Philip shines a spotlight on her cage to give me a better look. There are at least five gators inside the cage with her. Some of them are leaping up with snapping jaws.
The girl’s legs are spread so wide because her feet need to prop her up on each of the small ledges. And for a moment I wonder just how long she can last up there. What would happen if she fell? Would someone come get her? Would some hidden attendant jump out and fight off the gators?
Maybe. But honestly, I just don’t think it works that way.
Her face is bright red and sweaty, her white dress dirty.
She glances at us. But just quickly, just for a moment. And then her eyes go back to the gators.
“This is Maria. Twelve years old. Very pretty, very sweet girl. She’s a pleaser. Just look how she concentrates on her situation. So focused. So intent on staying alive. You’d really like her, I think.”
“Can she fight?”
“She can learn. She’s young enough. And she’s a virgin. We have the certification to prove it. Only one of two, this time around. Of course, that means her price is higher than most of the others. Two point five million for this one.”
“Pass,” I say. Not because I don’t have the money, and not because I’m not enticed at the idea of a virgin. But because Maria doesn’t look intent on staying alive. She looks like she’s considering her options right about now. Like maybe she should just let the gators eat her and put her out of her misery. And while I would like a girl who’s not afraid of dying, the last thing I need is one who will give up in the middle of something terrible and take the rest of us down with her.