Page 62 of Skin Trade

“Is it locked properly?”

Bobby shook the door, pulled on it. “It’s locked.”

“Seth said … he said. Lock it. Don’t let anyone down there. Got to lock the door.” She almost squealed out the last part herself as if she hadn’t said it enough, even though the door was locked.

“You’re okay,” Bobby said. “Really.” He held her by the shoulder. The look in his eyes said he probably wanted to throttle her into silence.

“They might come through.”

“They won’t. They’re not that smart.”

Payton couldn’t see all the people close to her, the customers on the other side of the bar, or the woman with her hand over her mouth, trying not to gag. She couldn’t see the man trying to usher his wife away. But Bobby saw them. “Let’s go into the kitchen. Okay?”

“Seth is down there.”

“If Seth is down there, it’s not him you need to worry about. Come on.” He went to grab her arm, but she flinched enough to jolt him back, making him knock over the pile of collected glasses ready for the machine.

“Sorry. I …” I what? She didn’t know. “Sorry.”

“You’re okay. Okay?”

“No.” She shook her head. “I don’t even know what okay is.” She couldn’t keep her eyes off the door, sure in a moment that the thing would bang and then rattle off its hinges. “You don’t understand. The thirsty. They're inside. They’re in there.”

“They can’t come in. I promise.” She felt Bobby put his arm around her but not much else. Her legs moved as he guided her. He stopped in front of one of the women he worked with. “I’m going to take my break. Got a little emergency going on here. Cover for me if anyone asks.”

“She said the thirsty are down there?” the woman said to Bobby.

“Whatever is down there, Seth is dealing with it. You know the thirsty. One will have got in, scared Payton half to death.”

“No, there’s more.”

The woman cast a cautionary glance behind Bobby and Payton. Bobby leant into her. “It’s all good, okay? Go back to work. Act normal.” The bar was so many deep, the room was a sea of people. “If this lot get wind of something, it’s going to be mayhem and we would have more than the thirsty to deal with. The boss is dealing with it. Trust him.”

“Maybe we should call someone.”

“He has guards,” Payton said as if realising that fact for the first time. “With him. They have guns and knives.”

“Yes. Guns, knives and guards. See? Nothing to worry about it. I’ll be back in a few. Let me calm her down and clean her up.”

The woman wasn’t happy, but she nodded. Bobby led Payton to the kitchen. It wasn’t a kitchen like the one near to the terrace. This was a bar kitchen that catered for the bar itself. No food, but a glass washer, bar snacks and other things needed to keep the people happy with their chosen beverages. By the time he had her in there and closed the door behind them, she was shaking, and her skin looked like some kind of plucked chicken.

She was as sure as anything she wasn’t going to ever be able to unsee what she had seen down there, the woman, the way she looked, the way she ate whatever it was.

“We should get you cleaned up,” Bobby said. He’d left her to stand in the middle of the kitchen and if he were to leave, she’d probably find herself still standing there in an hour, frozen on the spot.

“I’ve never seen anything like that. It was … she was …”

“Not human,” Bobby said. “Those things down there. Don’t worry about them.”

“I left Seth with them. I should go--”

Bobby stopped in front of her. “And do what? Go and get yourself killed trying to play the hero? Believe me, they don’t stand a chance against him, and you don’t stand a chance against them. The only thing you can do now is get yourself cleaned up and get that shit off you.”

She turned her hands over in front of her as if she’d forgotten she was covered in their goo and slime. “I just …” She closed her eyes and jammed her mouth shut to save herself from retching. But no. “Shit.” It wasn’t working. She barely made it to the sink before doubling over and spewing out the entire contents of her stomach in one hot, acrid smelling gloopy mess. The bottom of the sink filled with partially digested croissants and what was left in her stomach from the green juice Sky had given to her. The sight was so bad it almost made her want to throw up again. “Oh God.” Her eyes watered and her throat stung. She bent again, retched more but nothing came out.

“Here,” Bobby handed her a small towel and a bottle of water. “Wipe your mouth and swill it out with this.”

“Thank you.” She did, not swallowing it, but rinsing her mouth and then spitting the water into the sink.

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