WHEN MY STRENGTH FAILS, I WILL TRUST IN THE STRENGTH OF OTHERS.
After they made their agreement, Malcolm and Dani both lay down and attempted to rest. Dani fell asleep first. Malcolm listened as her breathing slowed into a deep, rhythmic pattern. The pattern was hypnotizing and he didn't notice that it was lulling him into slumber as well. For once his sleep started off peaceful, filled with nothingness, just rest. But soon, as they always did, the dreams came. The usual cast of players, however, were nowhere to be found. Instead, they were replaced with flashes of the events they'd recently endured: The sound and smell of his own burning flesh. The bone chilling smiles of their captor. The crack of Nathan's hand as he smacked Dani. "Please, Malcolm… Not him." Nathan's prediction, "Her body will inevitably betray her." Dani's tears as he'd looked down at her. "Which part is bothering you more? The fact that you raped your partner or the fact that part of you actually enjoyed it?"
"Ahh!" Malcolm's night terrors ended as they typically did, with him sitting up, his restraints pulled taught, sweating, and gasping for breath.
Dani was already upright across the room, "You okay?" she asked, concerned.
He ran his hands through his hair to push it back out of his eyes, "Yeah." He looked around the room trying to get a firm grasp on reality. "Did I wake you?"
"You did. But, to be fair this bed isn't exactly four-star," she joked patting the cold concrete. Malcolm actually managed a crooked grin at the humor. "You were talking in your sleep," Dani informed.
"Was I?" He was afraid of that. The last thing he wanted to do was say something that might cause her more pain.
"Yeah." She deliberated before asking, "You were dreaming about last night weren't you?"
He answered her question with another, "What makes you say that?"
"You kept saying 'I'm sorry'," she looked down at the floor, "and 'Don't cry'".
"Oh." Malcolm wasn't sure what else to say.
"Malcolm, I need to tell you something."
He raised his eyebrows, intrigued.
Dani hesitated before continuing, "Last night, when we... I wasn't crying for the reason you think I was."
"What?"
"I was crying because-" she lowered her eyes again, "because he was right. Everything he said was true." She picked at a pulled thread in her pants before looking back up at Malcolm. "Here we were, being forced to- and he was sitting there watching, touching himself."
Malcolm assumed that had been the case, but his back had been to Nathan. It didn't make it any easier to hear.
"And just like he said it would… No matter how much I wanted it to be over, by the end, certain things you did, my body started reacting to. How fucked up is that?" One single tear fell down her cheek and she quickly wiped it away and took a calming breath. "When you were done, and I realized that had happened, I just couldn't handle that he had been right. That he somehow knew me better than I did."
Malcolm stared into her eyes, wishing there was some way he could comfort her.
"That's why I cried, Malcolm. I just… feel like you should know that."
He nodded his head, grateful for her honesty. The revelation that they had experienced something similar in that moment- truthfully he wasn't sure how he felt about it. It wasn't necessarily comforting, it didn't make it better. It just was. He knew she must be feeling the same cocktail of anger, guilt, and shame that he was. Maybe that solidarity, however horrific, could help them.
There seemed to be an unspoken understanding between them that this would be the last time they discussed it, while they were still here at least.
Malcolm changed the subject, "Dani, if we're gonna get out of here, we have to be ready to take advantage of any opportunity we get. Pay attention to every tiny detail. If he makes a mistake, like he did earlier," his eyes were hard as stone, "we have to make him pay for it."
"Yes we do."
Gil almost spit out his entire mouth full of coffee when J.T. came bursting back into the conference room and exclaimed, "We got a hit on the partial plate, an address in Queens!"
"Let's go!"
Even as they rushed through the busy streets, sirens wailing, he couldn't get there fast enough.
When they finally pulled up to the house, J.T. practically tuck-and-rolled out of the car before Gil could get it parked. They rushed up the porch and knocked on the front door, a team of uniformed officers in tow. No one answered.
Gil knocked a second time, "NYPD. Open the door."
Still no response.
The two men stepped aside from the door and drew their weapons as the cop behind them busted through the it with a battering ram.
They made quick work of checking the first floor. Nothing. From upstairs, Gil heard an officer yell, "CLEAR!"
"Where's the basement stairs?" J.T. asked scouring the first floor again. "There's windows. There has to be a basement."
Gil gestured to all of the additional officers, "Find the basement entrance!"
Everyone immediately spread out and began searching. It took less than five minutes before one of the officers yelled from inside the kitchen pantry, "Over here!"
Gil arrived first, the officer waiting for his word to open the trap door hidden under a rug. When J.T. was at his side, Gil gave the go-ahead nod, and the two of them descended the stairs into the basement weapons pointed.
The moment they reached the bottom of the stairs, Gil's heart sank. A water heater, an a/c unit, and a metal shelf stacked with some old rusted tool boxes, that was it. The rest of the room was a dusty, cob-web covered, run-of-the-mill old basement.
"Damn it." He turned around and simply shook his head at J.T.
The detective holstered his weapon and looked at his boss. "Search the house?" he asked, his tone completely defeated.
"Search the house," Gil confirmed.
Hours passed, and Malcolm had again dozed off again. His pseudo rest was interrupted by the sound of the locks turning. Dani sat up as Malcolm tried to mentally brace for whatever tortures Nathan had prepared for him. He knew he was going to pay for that tackle in some way. What he wouldn't give for that swing to have actually connected.
Nathan entered the basement lugging a wide, shallow plastic tub with a lid. As he sat it down in the middle of the room, and returned to the doorway, Malcolm heard the sloshing of it's contents. Water, his mind immediately started running through the possibilities. Dani was clearly doing the same thing.
The door closed and Nathan crossed the room to the wooden table, crouching down and lifting part of the sheet that covered the lower shelf. He emerged with a small box, a car battery, and some cords and laid them on the table. His second visit to the shelf yielded rope and a large sponge, which he immediately threw into the tub. Malcolm could feel his heartbeat in his throat. It had taken him all of two seconds to figure out Nathan's plan. He glanced quickly at Dani, whose eyes were frantic, as she too knew exactly what was about to happen.
Nathan began connecting some of the wires to the box, and in turn connecting the opposite ends to the car battery. Next, he turned his attention to the pile of rope. It couldn't have been more than three feet long. He began manipulating one end, creating a small noose, and did the same to the other. Afterward, he walked to the center of the room, where the tub lay open on the floor, and draped the rope over one of the thicker wooden beams above it. He held on to both ends and pulled himself up off of the ground, testing the strength of both the beam and the rope. When his feet returned to the ground, Nathan wiggled his eyebrows at Malcolm, the excitement radiating off of him was palpable.
"I'm assuming you've put two and two together, given your profession," Nathan's tone was casual as he began unwinding a longer cord. "And that you know what this is, then," he continued as he connected the new cord to the box.
"It's a picana," Malcolm's voice sounded much stronger than he felt. "Electroshock device created specifically for the purpose of torture. Outlawed in almost every country in the world."
"That it is," Nathan returned, reverently. "Truly a thing of beauty," he stared at it appreciatively for a moment longer.
Then, to Malcolm's horror, Nathan started walking toward Dani.
"What are you doing?" Malcolm asked, panicked, rising to his knees. Nathan looked over his shoulder at him and simply grinned. Then he unlocked Dani's shackles and pulled her up by the arm.
"Wait!" Malcolm begged as the two began walking toward the center of the room. "Please, take me!"
Dani paused at the tub, preparing to step in. Nathan let her stop for a moment, then shoved her past it. They continued walking across the room until they reached Malcolm, who stared up at them both in confusion. Nathan chuckled and spoke directly to Malcolm, "Relax, hero. You know my methods. When have I ever tortured the females?" He pulled his gun from his back again, cocked it, and pressed it against Dani's temple. "This is my insurance. In case you continue to have delusions of grandeur." He held out the key to Dani, "Uncuff' him."
She obeyed. Once Malcolm was freed he waited for instructions, afraid any movement might spook Nathan. "Up," he commanded, wrapping his arm around Dani. "Walk."
Malcolm did as he was instructed and waited next to the tub of water.
"Shirt off," Nathan moved himself and Dani to face Malcolm as he removed the required clothing. "Get in."
The water was warm. For whatever reason this surprised Malcolm.
Nathan directed his next command to Dani as he gestured to the rope, "Restrain him."
Dani approached the tub slowly. Malcolm showed no weakness. He pre-raised his left arm to make it easier for her. She slipped the rope over his hand and tugged on the knot until it was slightly snug on his wrist.
"I'm not a fool. Tighter."
Dani tightened the rope in defeat and continued to the other arm. Malcolm was watching her intently. As she tightened the second loop she gave the uninjured side of his forearm a tiny squeeze. He didn't quite know the meaning behind it but it was comforting nonetheless. He returned with the best "thank you" look he could manage as she stepped back. Malcolm pulled at the rope above him, his arms were secured almost a foot above his head.
Nathan kept the gun raised as he took the two steps toward the table and turned on the control box. As he toyed with the controls, he returned the gun into the back waistband of his pants. "Alright," he adjusted the dials on the front while narrating his thought process, "We want low amperage; that's what'll kill ya." He glanced back at Malcolm, clearly looking to elicit a response. Malcolm gave him none. "Start with 30 milliamps. But the voltage, that's where the fun begins. We'll lead off with 20,000 just to be safe." He picked up what looked like a cattle prod and it began to hum with energy.
Malcolm eyed the device, his arms already starting to lose feeling. Well, this is going to hurt. He tried to prepare himself for the impending pain.
Nathan couldn't resist being the one to test it first. "How about a dry run?" Malcolm stared him down, refusing to show any fear. He teased Malcolm a few places here and there before connecting for only a second with the middle of his abdomen.
There was no preparing for the pain. White hot fire burned through his torso. Even with such a short period of contact, Malcolm's entire body went rigid. His head jerked backward. When Nathan retracted the prod, Malcolm was left panting for breath.
"Not bad," Nathan noted. "You didn't even scream." Once again he examined Malcolm for signs of suffering. "That will change." He turned to Dani. "Wet him with the sponge."
"What?" For a moment she was genuinely confused at the request.
"Get the sponge, and wet him with it!"
Dani retrieved the sponge from the tub, "Where?" she asked.
"Torso. Back."
Dani ran the sponge over Malcolm's chest, "More water than that. Dripping," Nathan demanded. She corrected her error, continued to his stomach, then did the same to his back, frequently dipping the sponge in the water as she went. She moved as slowly as she could, trying to give Malcolm some extra time. His pants were drenched by the time she had finished. Before Dani could throw the sponge back in the tub, Nathan added, "And his head."
"You touch his head and you'll kill him," she argued.
"Wet his fucking head!" Nathan yelled. Dani dipped the sponge into the water, lifted it over Malcolm's head and twisted it. "Again," Nathan ordered. She complied, saturating his head and hair.
Malcolm shook his head in an effort to get some of the water out of his eyes. His sodden hair fell forward, partially covering his face.
"You know what water does to an electric current," Nathan taunted Malcolm as he handed the device to Dani. "Until I say," he warned.
She took the prod from Nathan, her hands shaking, "Where?"
"Same place."
Dani took the step forward toward Malcolm. He looked at her through the curtain of wet hair and nodded trying his best to be strong for her. She touched the picana to his skin and held it.
Again, Malcolm's body jerked and went completely rigid. This time the fire was far worse, searing. All the air left his lungs in an agonizing scream.
Five tortuous seconds later, Nathan finally said, "Good," giving permission for Dani to stop.
Malcolm's head immediately dropped and hung low. His legs were almost too weak to hold him. He was desperately gasping for air.
Tears spilled out of Dani's eyes as she watched Malcolm's response to the shock.
"Okay. That's our control," Nathan stated, comparing the electroshock to a scientific experiment. "Now we compare." He walked to the control box and moved the left dial. "Keep the amps the same. Voltage up to 30,000."
Dani's eyes were wide with terror as Nathan ordered, "Again. Keep it below the chest."
Dani objected, "Give him a minute."
"Now!" Nathan bellowed.
Dani hesitated. Malcolm tried to reassure her. He was still gasping between words. "As long as he keeps the amps low, it's unlikely to kill me, Dani. It's about the intensity of the pain, not the intent to kill."
"I won't say it again," Nathan warned. Dani reluctantly obeyed.
Malcolm's scream was even more blood-curdling than before. His breathing was more frenzied. Even after the shock was over, his body was shaking uncontrollably.
Nathan investigated Malcolm's reactions, "Now that is interesting."
"Bring me the picana," he held his hand out to Dani.
"Give him a minute. Please!"
"Bring it here!" He pulled his gun again and pointed it at Malcolm, ensuring Dani wouldn't attempt to shock him. She handed it over and he returned the gun to its place in the back of his waistband. Nathan went to the controls and adjusted the right dial. "I think we can risk 50 milliamps. For science."
"You can't!" Dani pleaded, "You're going to kill him!"
He pointed at Dani and brought his finger back to his lips, telling her to be quiet. Then he returned to Malcolm, who could barely hold himself up. "Look at me," he ordered, lifting Malcolm's head forcibly so he could see his eyes, all the while aiming the prod at his chest. "This is for that stunt you pulled earlier."
Malcolm's voice was a raspy, snark-infested, groan, "You mean when I tackled you and we almost escaped because you made an incredibly stupid mistake?"
Before Nathan could lurch forward, Dani pulled the gun from his waistband and pointed it at the back of his head, "Back away slowly," she demanded.
Malcolm could barely hold his own head up. His eyes were only partially open as they darted between the Dani and their captor.
Nathan took a second to assess the situation, "You know, I don't think I will. If you shoot me at this angle you're bound to blow through me and hit him too."
He was right. Fuck. She had been so focused on simply grabbing the gun.
Dani moved in closer behind Nathan and wrapped the gun around his head until it was under his chin pointing up. "How about now?"
"I was hoping you'd do that," Nathan replied as he whipped his head in reverse, knocking Dani back with the force of the blow. Before she could recover, Nathan jabbed the picana into Malcolm's chest.
"NO!" Dani screamed as she aimed the gun at Nathan's leg and fired. But the damage was done.
As soon as the prod touched his chest, Malcolm's eyes popped open wider than Dani had ever seen. His lips spread in a horrifying soundless scream, as his body lifted up onto the tips of his toes, entirely stiff.
And then, like a marionette that had been hung up on a hook, Malcolm went completely limp.