Survivor In Death (In Death #20)(44)

“Yes. Yes. Please, don't hurt me.”

“We'll have no reason to hurt you if you answer our questions. Are you afraid, Meredith?”

“Yes. Yes, I'm afraid.”

“Good. You've told the truth.”

She couldn't see, but she could hear. She heard little beeps and pings, his breathing--steady. No, someone else, too. She could hear, she thought, movement--but not where the breathing was. Two of them. There'd been two of them.

“What do you want? Please tell me what you want.”

There was another jolt, shocking, quicker, that left her gasping. She thought she smelled something burning, like raw meat. And thought, through the shocking pain, she heard a woman laugh.

“You don't ask questions.”

A second voice. A little deeper, a little harsher than the first. Not a woman. Must have imagined. What does it matter?

God, oh God, help me.

Her eyes wheeled, and she saw there was faint light, just a slit of light to her left. Not in the dark. Thank God, not in the dark. Her eyes were taped as her mouth had been.

They didn't want her to see them. Didn't want her to be able to identify them. Thank God, thank God. They weren't going to kill her.

But they would hurt her.

“I won't. I'll answer. I'll answer.”

“Where is Nixie Swisher?”

“Who?”

The pain struck like a fiery ax, slicing her up the center. Her screams burst into the air, and tears of shock spilled down her cheeks. Her bowels went to water.

“Please, please.”

“Please, please.” It was a woman's voice, a sneering mimic of her own. “Jesus, she shit herself. *.”

Meredith screamed again when the icy water struck her. She began to weep now, thick, wet sobs, as she realized she was naked, wet, soiled.

“Where is Nixie Swisher?”

“I don't know who that is.”

And sobbing, she braced for the agony that didn't come. Her breath came in pants now, her eyes tracking back and forth, from the dark, to the sliver of light, to the dark, to the light.

“Your name is Meredith Newman.”

“Yes. Yes. Yes.” Her skin was on fire, her bones were like ice. “God. God.”

“Is Nixie Swisher one of your cases, as an employee of Child Protection Services?”

“I--I--I get so many. There are so many. I can't remember. Please don't hurt me, please, I can't remember.”

“Register blue,” one of them said from behind her.

“Overworked, Meredith?”

“Yes.”

“I understand that. The system sucks you up, sucks you dry. The wheel of it runs over and crushes what's left of you. Revolution comes because of all it crushes. You're tired of the wheel, aren't you?”

“Yes. Yes.”

“But it's not done with you yet. Tell me, Meredith, how many families have you destroyed?”

“I--” Tears spilled into her mouth. She swallowed the salt of them. “I try to help.”

Impossible, unspeakable pain seared into her. Her screams were mindless pleas for mercy.

“You're a cog on that wheel. A cog on the wheel that crushes out the lifeblood. But now it's turning around to crush you, isn't it? Do you want to escape, Meredith?”

She tasted vomit on her tongue, in her throat. “Yes. No more, please, no more.”

“Nixie Swisher. Let me refresh you. A girl, a young girl who wasn't in her bed as she was told to be. Disobedient child. Disobedient children should be punished. Isn't that right?”

She opened her mouth, unsure. “Yes,” she said, praying it was the answer he wanted.

“Do you remember her now? Do you remember the little girl who wasn't in her bed? Grant and Keelie Swisher, deceased. Executed for heinous acts. Their throats were slit, Meredith. Do you remember now?”

His voice had changed, just a little. There was a fervor that hadn't been there before. Part of her brain registered the fact while the rest gibbered in fear. “Yes. Yes, I remember.”

“Where is she?”

“I don't know. I swear I don't know.”

“In the blue,” the other voice reported.

“Jolt.”

She screamed and screamed and screamed as the pain tore into her.

“You reported to the Swisher residence on the night they were executed.”

Her body continued to shudder. Spittle dribbled down her chin.

“Did you speak with Nixie Swisher?”

“Interview, exam. Exam, interview. Standard. No injuries, no molestation. Shocky.”

“What did she see?”

“I can't see.”

“What did Nixie Swisher see?”

“Men. Two men. Knives, throats. Blood. We'll hide now. Hide and be safe.”

“Losing her.”

“Stimulant.”

She wept again, wept because she was back, aware, awake, and the dregs of pain still lived in her. “No more, please. No more.”

“There was a survivor of the Swisher execution. What did she tell you?”

“She said . . .” Meredith told them everything she knew.

“That's very good, Meredith. Very concise. Now where is Nixie Swisher?”