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Arms grabbed Serenity from behind, and she realized it was Mustache. The creep might be wiry, but he was strong, and he dragged her forcefully against his body. His breath was hot against her neck, and the stench was so pungent Serenity thought she might puke.
“Did you like listenin’ to that, little piggy?” Mustache drawled. “Did it get you wet?”
Serenity felt Mustache’s gnarled fingers sliding down her belly, aimed straight for the loincloth covering her crotch.
Without even thinking, Serenity raised her leg and stamped her heel down hard on Mustache’s toes.
There was a dull pop that might have been a bone breaking.
Mustache howled in agony and let go of her.
Adrenaline surged through Serenity’s system. Her conscious brain was no longer running the show. She was operating on pure instinct now. Raw animal reflex. It was a feeling she had experienced only once before in her life—six months ago in the nith slaughterhouse. But that time, there had been nowhere to run, no means for fighting. She had been totally helpless, packed in like cattle with her fellow humans.
This time, however, she had a chance.
A slim chance, but a chance nonetheless.
Moving of their own volition, her feet began to run, slapping the wet floor of the cavern with echoing sounds. One of the men, Mutton Chops, tried to grab her, but he was too slow, and Serenity ducked under his arm and kept running.
She was going to make it.
She was going to get away.
Suddenly Serenity’s bare feet slipped on the wet stone floor. She felt a sickening lurch in her belly as she lost her balance and fell. Pain exploded through her kneecaps as they made contact with the hard floor.
No. She was so close to escaping. She couldn’t give up now.
Serenity pushed through the pain and struggled to her feet. She tried to run again, but her legs were weak from the impact and she had lost her momentum. She had only taken one step when a fist grabbed her long hair, yanking her back.
Serenity screamed. It was both a cry of pain and a cry for help.
“Shut up, bitch,” a voice hissed at her.
A fist buried itself in her solar plexus so hard she could swear her stomach had burst. Her scream was cut off as her lungs were robbed of breath. She doubled over in pain and fear.
“Get down on yer knees, woman.”
Serenity fell to her knees on the stone floor. She was not obeying. The muscles in her legs had simply given out.
The fist in her hair jerked her head up to face the man who had caught her. It was Soul Patch.
“I done told you not to fight nor scream,” he said. “Try that shit again, and we’ll hurt you for real. We don’t need you conscious for what we got planned.”
Behind her, Serenity heard Mutton Chops laugh in a demented voice. Mustache groaned.
“How you doin’?” Soul Patch asked his companion.
“Foot hurts like a motherfucker,” Mustache answered. “I think she broke muh fuckin’ toe.”
Serenity felt a tingle of pride knowing that she had hurt that creep. But her pride was instantly submerged beneath her even greater fear. Her situation was dire.
“You think anyone heard her scream?” Mutton Chops asked.
The men did not speak for a few seconds as they listened. The only sounds were the echoing drip of water inside the cave. Incessant. Indifferent. Drip, drip, drip…
Serenity was tempted to scream again, but her lungs still ached from being punched, and she was too afraid of the retribution that she knew would follow if she made more noise. The men would probably beat her unconscious, and then she would be truly helpless.
“Naw,” Soul Patch said at last. “No one heard us. We’re too deep.” Then to Mutton Chops he said, “hold on to her.”
