Thanks bammi1, for all of your help!
For the people who skipped the chapter 8.
He smiled and whispered in Bobby's ear. "The game has just begun Bobby."
Chapter 9
Tuesday 8:00 am Day 11
The sunlight streamed into Bobby's cell, highlighting the bruises, whelps, lacerations and blood on his body. He shifted his right hand to try sitting up. Fiery shards of pain engulfed his arm up to his shoulder. Bobby hissed, choosing not to care, he continued testing his body. He forced his way up into a sitting position with his back against the wall holding his ribs with his left hand. The wounds from his lashings stung and opened up, the blood trickled down his back. He sprawled his long legs out on the bed.
The sheets were stained with little pools of blood. His hands and feet were wrapped in blood stained gauze. He rested his right arm on the bed, his hand a useless mess. He wasn't wearing any clothing. His modesty was all but gone anyway.
His chest and ribs complained with every breath. He felt his abdomen and sensed the last violent round didn't dislodge any ribs. He felt lethargic and in pain, but not seriously injured. He could lose his right hand if it was not treated soon. Walking would be difficult for a couple of days.
The more he thought about his situation the less he worried about himself. He had to get Amelia out somehow. To accomplish an escape, he needed to be both physically and emotionally strong. Now he just needed to gather his strength, the rest he could fake.
There seemed to be four guards in the hallway at any given point in time. Two men stationed on each end. At the exits would be two armed guards and snipers on various roofs of the compound dwellings. There was an ornamental, but impenetrable, twelve foot wall around the compound with two guarded gates. The sea side had no walls, just open sea. He wondered if the sea would be the best escape. He got lost in his thoughts, planning and weighing the best possible escape routes. His found his knowledge lacking about the grounds and what challenges there would be outside of the compound. Suarez had the policía in his back pocket. The compound must be six hundred to seven hundred miles from the border.
The key turned in the lock of the cell door. Bobby felt adrenaline course through his body. The acid in his stomach boiled into his throat. Three guards entered the room, one carrying a breakfast tray. One guard closed the door as the other guard set down the tray and smiled at Bobby. Bobby recognized the men from last night. He pulled his legs in, close to his body and covered himself with the sheet. The men laughed.
Bobby gave the men an indignant stare. They laughed again as one man set down on the bed with a bowl of oatmeal. He stirred brown sugar and cinnamon into the bowl and dipped out a spoonful, holding it up to Bobby's mouth. He felt bile rise to his mouth and shook his head. He wasn't about to let his rapists spoon feed him anything.
Before the guard could react, Bobby swung his left hand into the guard's sneering mouth. The oatmeal went flying, covering the guard, bed and floor. Bobby launched at the man, using his weight to hold him down. His punches were weak but very satisfying.
More men came into the room trying to restrain him. They were careful not to hurt him, knowing Suarez would be upset.
When Bobby realized they wouldn't hurt him, he could not stop. He kicked, jabbed and swung at everybody in reach. The guards laughed at his feeble assault, but he made some well placed blows.
He kept attacking the guards until all the anger left his body and he collapsed on the floor among the oatmeal and his own blood.
They left him where he lay, and closed the door.
Intellectually Bobby knew he couldn't help his reaction, all the studies expounded upon the guilt and anger associated with male rape. Emotionally Bobby compartmentalized the attack and placed it in the failure box neatly stowed behind his wall.
He crawled up onto the bed and lay among the soiled sheets, smelling his own sweat and blood. He couldn't pace so he brought up his knees and rocked for hours, repeating Yankee stats for the past twenty years. He didn't stop until his cell door opened again. The guards entered and replaced his breakfast tray with lunch. These guards he did not recognize. They walked without acknowledging Bobby. Bobby felt relief as he heard the door lock. He went back to his rocking.
"Bobby?"
Bobby stopped rocking. Did he hear Amelia?
"Amelia?"
"Bobby, are you OK?"
"Yea."
"No, you are not. I… I… I heard this morning… and last night.
"Amelia, I couldn't stop them. I tried, really I did try."
"I don't understand, Bobby. You didn't ask for this. How can you stop them?"
"Yea, look I'm tired. I'm sorry, could we talk later?"
"Sure, get some rest."
Bobby went back to rocking trying to recover his dignity and mind. He could not give in, he could not give up. Amelia needed him to save her, but how?
Food, he should eat. Build up his strength and stamina. Bobby looked at the lunch tray. There were burritos, beans, and rice. Bobby felt nauseous at the thought, but he needed to eat. The pain and tenderness in his back and right hand made it torturous for Bobby to navigate in his cell. He sat on the edge of the bed with some difficulty and placed his damaged feet on the floor. He reached over to the table and brought the tray into the bed.
He ate some of the burrito and beans before the nausea hit. He scrambled for the toilet barely reaching it in time before he lost his lunch. Bobby slumped to the floor, coughing. He didn't want to get up, it hurt too much. He held his ribs burning with raw pain. Hell of a lot of good he was going to do for Amelia.
He crawled back to the bed and pulled himself up and lay down. He rolled on to his side and curled up into a trembling sweating ball on the soiled sheets.
Be a man Bobby, protect, be a man… protect… protect like you wanted to be protected. He repeated the thought to himself as if it were a mantra. The trembling slowed; his breathing became regular, his muscles relaxed and his eyes closed.
The cell door banged open, and someone touched Bobby's shoulder. Bobby flinched and moved away from the touch. He opened his eyes seeing the guards again and a couple of other men holding sheets and cleaning materials. The guards threw a pair of shorts at Bobby. Bobby sat up holding his ribs and threaded his legs though the shorts. He moved to the edge of the bed and put the heels of his feet on the floor. He pulled the shorts on with some great difficulty and tied the draw string.
"Up." The guard demanded. Bobby tried but his injured feet were too painful to stand on. Two guards came over and roughly lifted him up. A wheel chair was pushed in the room by another guard. They dropped him into the wheel chair. The guards wheeled Bobby out and down the hallway. Bobby covertly observed his surroundings, counting the guards, looking for armed guards and snipers.
The guards rolled him into the clinic. Justin frowned when he looked up through the glass window in his office to see Bobby in the wheel chair. Justin's phone rang. All Bobby could here was "yes sir" repeated several times. When the call was finished Justin came out of the office and looked at Bobby.
"Ok guys, let's get him up on the examination table."
Bobby groaned, why did they make examination tables so small? He lifted himself out of the wheel chair while the guards steadied him and he sat uncomfortably on the table. His feet were throbbing and bleeding more from the effort.
Justin let out a sigh realizing Bobby was going to need a lot of work. Since Bobby wasn't wearing a shirt, Justin could see the new lashes oozing blood in places. His bandaged right hand was no longer in a cast and looked bad. His feet and other hand were bandaged and bleeding.
Justin looked at the guards. "What happened, did they hang him from a cross this time?" The guards shrugged.
"Maybe I should call the church and tell them we have a miracle. Look, a prisoner exhibiting the stigmata." The guards and Justin chuckled at the thought of Suarez explaining this to the church.
Bobby hung his head having a hard time setting up, he felt a bit woozy and lacking in humor.
"Ok,help me lay him on his side. Be careful not to let him roll off the table." The guards repositioned Bobby on his side with Justin issuing orders. Once Bobby was settled the guards backed away and watched from a distance.
Justin removed the bandage from Bobby's right hand first. Both Bobby and Justin gasped at the sight. Bobby's hand resembled raw hamburger more than a hand. The shape of the hand was distorted due to the broken bones and swelling. Muscles and tendons were showing through the torn skin. Bobby hissed when Justin turned the hand over to look at hispalm.
"I don't know if I can make this right. I can clean it up and prevent infection, but making it a hand again… I can't promise." Justin looked at the puncture wound on the forearm. "This puncture should heal, but the arm is still broken. We need to immobilize it until the swelling goes down. You should know the routine by now."
Justin checked Bobby's vitals and listened to his heart and lungs. He looked for internal bleeding or movement of the displaced ribs. He moved on to the left hand and feet removing the bandages. "The prognosis is good as long as the wounds are kept clean and no infection sets in."
Justin looked at Bobby. "I need to clean and dress your wounds and immobilize the right wrist and hand. It is going to hurt." Bobby nodded in acknowledgement. Like it didn't hurt like hell already. Justin diligently went about cleaning and redressing the other wounds. Bobby needed a few more stitches from the lashes and in his hand. Justin prepared a couple of syringes for numbing the areas Bobby needed stitches.
Justin did the best he could to stitch up Bobby's wounds and brace the right hand and wrist. He noticed the guards chatting among themselves not paying any attention to the prisoner and medic. As Justin worked he whispered to Bobby, "Suarez is getting himself into more trouble, hang in there because your situation may change." Bobby shifted weakly and pretended to ignore Justin and his administrations.
Justin finished up with Bobby and got the guards' attention. "He needs bed rest, food and a plaster cast when the swelling in his hand goes down."
They got Bobby back into the wheel chair and headed back to the detention area. He was worn out from the ordeal. He sat in the wheel chair hanging his head while observing the activity on the grounds under heavily lidded eyes.
Bobby lay in his bed overcome with exhaustion, aware Suarez could return at any time. He hoped Justin was correct about his situation changing, or Suarez was busy elsewhere. Bobby flinched when he heard his cell door open. Three guards came in with one man carrying a tray. The man placed the tray on Bobby's table and the trio left the cell.
Groaning, Bobby pulled himself up. He needed to try eating again. He looked at the tray and saw a bowl of soup, milk and slices of bread. The soup smelled good and Bobby felt his stomach growl in response. He eased himself onto the chair and tried the soup. It was as tasty as it smelled. He forced himself to eat and drink slowly, filling himself after only eating a small portion. He drank the milk and went back to bed.
His night was filled with nightmares of Suarez and his private guard tormenting him. He tried to find comfortable positions to sleep in, but his body protested. He was grateful he was able to keep his food down. Sleep was fleeting between his restless, haunted mind and his bruised and battered body. He settled into rocking until he saw the first rays of light from his window.
Wednesday 8:00 am Day 12
Bobby heard footsteps outside his cell door. He cringed at the thought of what Suarez had planned for him next. He wasn't sure how much more humiliation he could take, the torture he could endure until it killed him.
Three men entered his cell, much to Bobby's relief they were regular guard. One of the men placed a tray on the table and took away his old tray. Another guard threw clean shorts and a t-shirt on the bed. They left without speaking.
Bobby looked at his tray, his stomach grumbled at the smell. His tray contained scrambled eggs with small chunks of ham, toast, yogurt, water and milk. He fought the soreness in his body and moved to the chair to eat his breakfast. He took his time, eating slowly,hoping everything would stay down.
Bobby tested his feet finding them bruised and sore, but he was better able to move about the cell. He cleaned up in the sink with the small bar of soap provided and put on the clean shorts. He didn't even try the t-shirt, knowing he could not get it over his head and through his arms.
Fatigued by the efforts of eating and cleaning, Bobby lay down and picked up a book to read. He drifted off to sleep only to be awakened by another nightmare.
The next two days remained uneventful, with regular meals and clean clothing Bobby was starting to feel human again. Neither Suarez, nor his guards appeared, although Bobby stayed in a state of hyper-vigilance waiting for the next round of games.
He and Amelia spoke very little, in an effort to hide their association. He was sure Suarez would use Amelia to get to him if he knew.
Friday 9:00 am Day 14
Bobby made another trip to the clinic walking on his own two feet wearing his sandals. There were noticeably more snipers on the roof and less people around. The compound seemed almost void of activity and people.
Justin was his usual self. "Good, you are walking. I need to check you out and give you a plaster cast." Justin gave Bobby a complete physical and a new blue cast. "Everything is looking good except for the right hand. Is it giving you problems?"
Bobby thought his right hand was the least of his problems, but he humored Justin. "It hurts, but what can you do?" Justin frowned. "Yea, there is not a lot I can do, but hopefully with time it will heal." Bobby was doubtful as well.
"Your ribs are healing, but it will be weeks before the pain goes away." Bobby nodded, not sure if he would be alive to see his ribs heal.
Bobby and the guards trudged back to his cell. When the cell door closed Bobby let out a sigh. He painfully sat down near the vent.
"Amelia, are you there?" There was no answer. Bobby hoped Suarez hadn't hurt her.
"Amelia!" Bobby said a little louder, not caring if anyone heard.
"I'm here Bobby."
"Thank god! Are you OK?"
"Yes, I'm ok. I want to go home."
"Me too, hang in there. Are they still feeding you?"
"Yes, I get meals and clean clothes. I don't know why they keep me alive."
"Just be glad you are alive. If there is any way I can get you out I will, I promise."
"OK"
Bobby leaned his head against the vent wishing there was more he could do.
"Bobby?"
"Yes."
"I pray for you. I pray every night that you will get us out."
"I will do everything I can to get you out Amelia, I promise!"
"Bobby, if you can't save me, then save yourself. Tony couldn't save me and he died. I don't want another person dying because of me."
Bobby heard Amelia sobbing.
"Amelia, it is ok. You are not responsible for Tony or any of this."
"Yes I am. Tony wanted nothing to do with Suarez. He knew he was bad news, he was trying to protect me."
"No. Don't blame yourself! How could you know?"
"Tony knew. I didn't listen. What if I had listened?"
"What if… that is a game no one can win. Don't go there Amelia. You just wanted to meet someone new and exciting. You never expected this… You never wanted this. Do you understand? I'm the one who tried to stop Suarez. I put him in jail. He should have stayed there for the rest of his life. I'm so sorry Amelia. I will do everything I can to protect you."
"Did you let him out Bobby? Did you beg my brother to hang out with this psychopath? If you want to blame yourself, go ahead and beat yourself up, but I can feel guilty too. Don't give me this shit about how you are supposed to protect me. You don't even know me."
"Amelia, please it is not your fault. I want to protect you."
"Well, you can't Bobby. I don't want another death on my conscious."
"Amelia. Amelia!" Bobby waited but Amelia didn't respond.
He spent most of the day reading and testing his strength. He felt stronger than he had in several days. His hand and ribs were very painful but the other injuries were only annoying.
TBC
