Into an Unseen Distance

“That’s a good start, Jack. But we’d rather leave no stone unturned, and if you’re sitting there with your little Irish prick dangling, we feel you’ll be more . . . forthcoming. Is that the right word?”

I held my hands up in a plea.

“Wait,” I said weakly. “I have nothing to hide. I’ll tell you anything you want.”

“That’s right. In a minute, you’ll have nothing to hide. So, strip, or we’ll tear that shit off of you. If you resist, my partner will shoot you in the kneecap. All of this can be avoided with your absolute cooperation.”

They both rose in unison, walking around the coffee table toward me. I backed away with my hands in the air in a vain attempt to ward them off. Someone from behind brought down a hard object high up on my shoulder and I went to my knees. Searing pain shot into my head, and I flirted with unconsciousness. I was dragged by several sets of hands into the kitchen, where someone grabbed my wrist and put my hand on the butcher block. One of them brought his automatic crashing down on my little finger. For a moment, I felt nothing. Then a wave of pain ran to my brain so excruciating I couldn’t call out. They released my wrist and left me curled over my knees. I vomited the bile in my stomach.

“Don’t underestimate our determination, Jack. “We’ll have our information one way or another.”

I could hardly hear him through the pain. Someone grabbed my hair, jerking my head up. The one in charge stuck his face close to mine. Through my tears, his face was distorted.

“And, Jack,” he hissed through his clenched smile, “we enjoy our work.”

The face disappeared. My head dropped to my chest. I heard the one in charge say, “Cut ’em off.” I felt the fabric of my clothing cut away from me. My shoes and belt were removed, and my pants were cut off. I resisted none of this. They tossed me around on the floor like a doll. All I could focus on was the pain.

They brought a dining room chair into the kitchen, dragged me over, and propped me up in it. They unraveled a roll of duct tape around me until my arms were pinned to my sides and my legs were snug to the legs of the chair. One of them retrieved a pan from a cabinet and ran water in the sink. He filled the pan and splashed the contents into my face.

“See, that’s why we like working in the kitchen, Jack,” the leader said. “Everything you need is right at hand.”

He reached over and tested the gas on the stove. Then he pulled out some drawers and pawed through the utensils.

“Yep,” he said. “Everything we need.”

He opened the icebox and extracted a six-pack of Coke in plastic bottles. He opened a bottle with a pfffft and took a healthy swig.

“Ah, nothing like Coke,” he said. That Pepsi shit’s too sweet, and it ain’t got the fizz.”

Someone grabbed my hair, forcing my head back. My body arched against the tape and the lights above blurred in my vision. A chair was brought in from the dining room, and the leader sat in front of me.

 “Now, Jack,” he said, “we’re going to give you a little demonstration, and we want you to remember that the pain you are suffering now is only the beginning. If we think you are bullshitting us, it gets worse. Like I said before, we can’t afford any fuck-ups. Don’t be a fuck-up, Jack.”

He corked the bottle with his thumb and gave it a vigorous shake. He rose and placed the bottle under my nose, letting the carbonation spray into my nostrils. The bubbling liquid flooded my sinuses and poured down my throat into my windpipe. The foam burned my membranes as I gagged for breath. I spasmodically coughed for air, forgetting the pain in my hand. Snot and Coke exploded from my nose. Before I could catch my breath, he repeated the process, then again. No matter how much I struggled, I couldn’t get any air. I was drowning in soda pop.

He stopped. Mucus and soda clung to my face.

“Messy work,” he commented lightly. I heard some laughter in the background, as he resumed his seat.

“Okay, Jack, you see how it is. We have two questions to ask, then I have to get these pants to the cleaners. Number one: where the fuck is Dan and have you seen him? I guess that’s two questions.”

He looked for approval from his associates. They chuckled on cue.

“The second question...or the third...is where did your little family go? We can’t have loose ends, Jack. That’s a loose end. So, let’s begin with the easy one. Where’s Dan, and have you had contact with him?”

They let my hair go so I could face him. I was still gasping for breath and coughing up Coke.

“Dan was at our meeting on Tuesday.” My words spewed spittle and soda. The one in the chair looked approvingly at his companions