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BlackEagle Girls
and The Ice-Angel of Death

Chapter 10 - Ice Man

'... alone. Prodding won't make them wake up... '
'... get your kicks soon... '
'... takes a while to wear off... '
'... either one looks like puking pull off the... '
'... we got plenty of time tonight. Who's gonna raise the alarm? Their Room Mates? I don't think so... '
Priscilla seemed to be drifting in and out of consciousness, her nostrils and the back of her throat were filled with a penetrating odour and a sweet aftertaste and all the while snatches of annoying, garbled conversation kept invading her mind.
'... likes teasing. But Monkey has to be patient... '
'... Ehi, ehi, ehji... '
'... steady Monkey. Wait until they wake up... '
Gradually, as Priscilla began to come out of the fog, she was aware of something lying against her. At first it felt like a dead weight, but eventually she realised that it was another body. She tried to open her eyes and mouth, but they were clamped shut and it took her some time to realise that they were covered over with tape. She was breathing through her nostrils and the smells she encountered were of dampness and a mixture of other acrid and pungent odours that she couldn't recognise. As she slowly regained her wits it occurred to her that all she could do was feel, smell and hear. Her wrists and ankles were bound and she could neither see or cry out. A chill ran through her. Involuntarily she began to struggle against her bindings and a distant voice said, 'Looks like this one's back.'
'And the other?'
'Face's twitching, wont be long.'
After a time, which might have been minutes, there came a muffled sound of distress, like somebody trying to cry out.
'Got you both back now, have we?' said one of the voices.
Just say 'Zits' an' I'll know who you are, thought Priscilla, trying to ease her shivering neck against the warmth of the other body.
'Black girl's moving. Yeah you kid! You and your pal both gettin' with it now? Fine. Time to meet Monkey!'
Something happened then that Priscilla would never forget. Afterwards she hoped that she would never hear anything like it again. It began as a low gibber that reverberated into a moaning wail and ended in the screech of a voice whooping like a Howler Monkey. Around her there was a terrifying commotion as something seemed to tear about the space close to where she lay, buffeting and slapping against her thighs and ankles.
It was like a miniature cyclone flying back and forth, crashing and stamping and leaping about her prone body; the swish of objects whooshing through the air so close to her face that she flinched away. Something, a hand, grappled at her hair and a voice, so close that its hot breath blew into her nostrils, exploded, 'Eihji, eihji, ehi, ehi, ehi, eihjii! Ecck, ecckh,
ecckh, eeckkhh!'
The scream of it reverberated in her ears as she tried to pull away. The only thing to register in all Priscilla's blind and helpless panic was that Monique was with her.
'Monkey! That will do for now!' said a high-pitched voice, as if from some distance away.
'Ei! ei!'
'Monkey!' the voice again commanded, 'you've had your fun. Now it's time to make our point.' There came a shuffling noise, the sound of something moving off and something coming closer.
'Listen, both of you, and listen good. The Ice Man's here and he wants to speak to you. I'm gonna take the tape off your mouth Zits, and then off your little black friend. If either of you try to scream, Monkey will be back, and Monkey likes to do all the screaming. Keep quiet and only speak if you're asked to.'
The tearing sound of tape coming away from Priscilla's face and then Monique's was like somebody ripping the wrappings off a packing box. Both of them took huge gulps of air and lay on their sides, back to back, gasping.
'You get your mouths clamped the second you make a squeak,' warned the menacing voice close by their heads.
'Good evening Little Girls,' came a different, distant voice, 'it's been brought to my attention that both of you are becoming a nuisance toward a certain person.'
This was a voice that sounded like sandpaper probably should scratching across the rough grain of timber. 'I don't usually get involved with school-girl squabbles, but in this case I have an interest. The point here is very clear. Keep out of her way. Whatever she does is none of your business. If either of you two are in competition against her, play it cool and let her win. You, little white girl, tell me that you get the message. I want to hear it now.'
Priscilla, having heard the earlier voice use the word Zits, was stewing, even through her fear. 'You mean Roseanne Sole don't you? I know... '
'She knows that we have to do as we are told,' said Monique, cutting across the already rising tone of her friend. 'Oh please, just let us go. We do not know who you are or where you have taken us, we only want to get back to our school. Please let us go!'
Priscilla felt Monique's weight shift against her as if in warning and grimly kept her mouth closed.
'I don't think so,' came the cold reply. 'It seems to me that your pal hasn't really understood what I've been telling you. Of course Monkey is ready to help you get with it and maybe that's the quickest way.'
Behind the sand-paper voice Monkey began to gibber, 'Eihji, ehi, ehi, eeechh!'
'Cool it Monkey, easy boy easy,' soothed one of the other voices in the background.
'That might be the quickest way, however there's a better way,' continued the sand-paper voice. 'Time to take a walk and then... ' the voice paused as if savouring the next words, 'take a ride. Cover their yaps.'
Before either Priscilla or Monique could scream, rough hands were wrapping tape about their mouths, muffling their cries of protest and fear.
'Cut their ankles loose and get them on their feet,' commanded the sand-paper voice.
Both the girls were hauled upright and the bindings around their legs removed. Then they were led forward, stumbling a few paces over some creaking boards.
'Here, put out yer hands and get hold of these steps,' said one of the other voices, tugging at Priscilla's arm. 'Ya gotta climb now, feel yer way.'
Blindly, Priscilla groped her bound hands about until she grasped the solid form of wooden treads and slowly, hesitantly, began to ascend. Behind her she could hear Monique's laboured breathing and the fear behind it. After eight or nine steps Priscilla managed to find her footing on a level surface above as Monique fumbled her way up behind her. About the two petrified girls the sounds of their abductors emerged and gathered.
'Now don't try anything stupid. Do as you're told and you wont get hurt,' said the sand-paper voice. 'Monkey's right here with us and Monkey gets startled easily. He tears things apart when he gets startled. You don't want that. You want to be good little school-girls, and be around tomorrow. Move.'
The threat shivered through Priscilla and she felt wobbly in the knees as she began to probe her way forward. At her back she could hear the frantic sounds of Monique's breathing.
After a few shambling steps they were halted and there came a strange, slithering sound, then the pair were prodded forward until they felt their way into an area that seemed broader and open although there was really no way of knowing. A number of paces on and they were led down some steps and suddenly a door opened and the breeze of fresh air tingled at their nostrils.
'Keep moving!' said a voice, prodding at Priscilla as a hand took hold of her arm and led her forward through a light sprinkle of rain. Stumbling along, she became aware of the soft crunch of gravel beneath her feet and the tread of the others around her. Then they veered off this path and she was walking through what felt like slippery, wet grass.
After a distance they were ordered to halt and there came to the ears of both girls a faint rattle and a snicking sound. This was followed by a soft creaking noise, the crackle of leaves and branches and they were ushered forward once again before being guided around to the right. It seemed to Priscilla that they were now walking on pavement as the going was smooth and even enough.
Ahead of them, Priscilla could hear the low humming growl of a motor car and in a few moments they were alongside it.
'Open the boot,' ordered the sand-paper voice.
The muted sound of the car's boot opening had the effect of something falling out of Priscilla's stomach and plummeting through to her bowels.
'Bring them around here,' said Sand-paper, and the two girls were pushed along until they leaned against the rear of the car.
'Climb in,' said one of the other voices.
Priscilla began to struggle backward and she could hear Monique's muffled whimpering beside her.
The sand-paper voice sighed. 'I don't need this. Get them in, now.'
Before Priscilla could try to do anything else she was literally picked up and dumped into the interior of the car boot. Seconds later, Monique protesting, was hauled in and pushed down as the boot lid thumped closed just above their heads. Squealing and squirming, the girls bumped against each other, their shoulders and elbows and knees colliding; the dreadful fear of being enclosed, eyes and mouths taped shut, in the utter darkness of a car boot where the air was tainted by the faint fumes of petrol, was almost overwhelming. Both of them were shaking uncontrollably.
The vehicle began to move, slowly at first as it cruised down the street then, picking up speed, it growled along, sweeping through bends and finally roaring into life as it thundered away, screeching around corners at a frantic pace, tires screaming, the engine gunning, throwing the two girls against each other as they tried to ward off every unexpected lurch. In the total blackness of the enclosed space, their nostrils flaring out of fear and the lust for life-giving air, both girls were forced to inhale the noxious exhaust fumes filtering back into the boot cavity so that as the fleeting moments of their terrible confinement passed they began to feel the effects. Their senses reeled as they bashed and crashed together in the ongoing uproar of screeching brakes and sudden accelerations while the car hurtled frantically along straight stretches and skidded around corners.
Suddenly the speed of the car slowed as it bumped over something and glided to a halt.
The entire ordeal might only have taken minutes or moments, but by the time the vehicle shuddered to a stand-still Priscilla and Monique were both badly shaken up and almost delirious on a cocktail of fear, fumes and intimidation.
Then there came a vague clicking sound and a rush of winter air as the boot opened. Hands grasped roughly at Priscilla, lifting and dragging her out. At her back she could hear Monique's muffled moans as she too was pulled from the boot.
Together they were laid down against a hard stone surface as the sand-paper voice said, 'Do you get the idea now Little Girls? It's after eight o'clock and you're a few blocks away from school. If you hurry, you might get back before they lock you out. I'm letting you go this time, but next time there won't be a next time see, because one of you, or maybe one of your friends will have already had a bad accident. Funerals are such unhappy places.
Say anything to anybody, and it might be your turn. We're watching everything you do.
Take a piece of friendly advice, keep your mouths shut and leave our mutual acquaintance alone.'
'You get that Zits?' said a second voice at Priscilla's ear, 'Ice Man don't like to be crossed.'
There came the sound of something slicing through the tapes that bound both girl's wrists, and then hurried footsteps followed by the slamming of doors. The car revved, then drove away at an unhurried pace.
Priscilla could feel her heart thumping in time to the pulses in her head. Then, as she
thought that she might pass out, she caught the sounds of Monique beside her and the ripping of tape.
'Ohh! Ohh! Oh Priscilla! I can breathe! One minute! let me get this off my eyes! Priscilla! Are you alright? Priscilla!'
Priscilla managed a muffled 'Mmmph!' as she struggled to wrench off the clinging tape binding her own mouth. It was hard going because the more that she clawed at it the stringier the stuff became, but at last she cleared her mouth and was able to gulp in the night air. 'Whooh! Hoowwh! Moni! I'm O.K. You?'
'Yes, yes, I've slipped it off over my head. I can see now, hold still and I will get your eyes free!'
Priscilla, gulping in air, felt as if she might float away and clutched at Monique's arms as her friend struggled, her shaking fingers fumbling at the binding tape, until finally resorting to biting through it with her teeth and winding it off.
'There! Cilla! Can you see?'
Priscilla, lying on her back, blinked up into the shadowy, anxious eyes of her dear friend. 'Yeah, yes,' she sighed, 'hey girl, this is pretty cool. I can see a lotta stars out there over your shoulder. Think I had too much of whatever it wuz they made us breath... but... Moni...
I'm so sorry... '
'Sorry for what? We're still friends. We're just the same!'
'Sorry for me, coz I think I've wet my knickers.'
'Whaddaya mean good?'
Monique's face peered down and broke into that characteristic grin. 'Good, because it means I'm not alone with wet knickers. Come on, get up, we have to find our way back to school!'


Chapter 11 [next]

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