No Way Out

 

The gorge 

The village lay cradled by hills so tall they swallowed the horizon. Those hills sealed the eastern, western, and southern approaches, leaving only the north open. There, a deep gorge split the earth, and across it stretched a narrow wooden bridge—the only way in or out.

The people had turned their backs on the outside world long ago. They wanted nothing of its cities, its machines, or its wars. They farmed the rich valley soil, fished the wide river that curled from the eastern edge to the south, and hunted game in the thick southern forests. Their houses were simple—timber frames and roofs thatched with palm fronds. No one owned more than anyone else; food, tools, and labor belonged to all. Money was a word they had forgotten.

That evening the village square glowed with firelight and laughter. A new child had been born at dawn, and everyone had come to sing and share roasted yam and palm wine. The mother, still pale but smiling, sat wrapped in bright cloth while the father accepted slaps on the back and proud congratulations.

Then came the sound—like the sky itself had cracked open.

Everyone froze.

“What was that?” asked Banny, the village head. He was a thin, grey-haired man with kind eyes that never seemed to hurry.

“Thunder?” someone offered.

Banny looked up. The stars were sharp and clear. “No clouds,” he said quietly. “And not the season for storms.”

Shoulders lifted in shrugs. Strange noises sometimes drifted down from the hills. Nothing ever came of them.

The sound returned—louder, closer, rolling out of the gorge like a second heartbeat of the earth.

The young men reached for spears and machetes. Banny raised a hand. “I’ll go see,” he said, already walking toward the bridge. A dozen followed.

They never came back the same.

From the darkness marched fifty armed strangers in mismatched uniforms, rifles glinting in the moonlight. Their boots struck the planks in perfect time. At the head of the bridge Banny stopped, arms open in greeting.

“Peace, friends,” he called. “You are welcome to water and food.”

The invaders’ leader—a thick-set man with a scar across his mouth—raised his rifle and shot Banny through the chest.

The old man dropped without a sound.

Panic exploded. The young men charged. Gunfire answered. Ten bodies hit the bridge before the rest scattered into the night.

Minutes later the scarred leader strode into the square, his men fanning out with weapons raised.

“Listen carefully,” he barked. “You are all hostages now. One million dollars, or every one of you dies. Starting tonight.”

An elder, trembling with rage, stepped forward. “You murder us in our own home and speak of money we have never seen?”

The scarred man shot him in the face.

Women screamed. Children were pulled behind skirts. The smell of gunpowder mixed with the sweet scent of palm wine.

“Next person who talks without permission joins him,” the leader said, kicking the body aside. “Pack what little you have. You’ll work it off if the money doesn’t come.”

Far beyond the firelight, in the black shadow of the forest, the survivors who had fled the bridge gathered. Harry, broad-shouldered and usually gentle, now looked carved from iron.

“They think we’re nothing,” he whispered. “They’ll learn different.”

“We cut the bridge,” he continued. “No escape for them, no reinforcements.”

“They posted two sentries,” a boy hissed. “I saw them when I circled back.”

Harry nodded once. “Then two men die quiet.”

Sade, the youngest among them, swallowed hard. “Do we… do we have to kill them?”

Manny, built like an ox, slapped the back of Sade’s head. “They killed Banny like a dog. You want to ask them nicely to leave?”

Harry silenced them with a look. “We use the sleeping root. Blow-darts and needles. Quiet and clean. Manny takes five men, takes the sentries alive if you can, dead if you must. Drag the bodies into the gorge. The rest of us cut the ropes the moment the bridge is clear.”

Manny grinned in the dark, already crushing dried leaves into a paste. “It will be done.”

Harry turned to Sade. “You stay here. Guard the path. When we come back, we finish this.”

Sade opened his mouth to protest, then closed it. The taste of fear was metallic on his tongue, but the taste of shame was worse.

Harry and the others melted into the trees.

Behind them, in the square, the invaders began counting heads and laughing about easy money.

They had no idea the night had only just begun.

The two sentries were miserable doing guard duty. One was thin as an arrow, the other fat as a pig.

The thin one—Slim Bone—kept grumbling. “Can’t believe the boss stuck me on sentry duty while everyone else gets to have fun.”

“Shut your mouth, Slim Bone,” the fat one snarled. “How dare you complain when the boss gives you work?”

“Are you telling me to shut up, Piggy?”

“How dare you call me Piggy!”

“What else should I call you?” Slim Bone asked with a crooked grin. “Ever seen your own reflection?”

“You’re one to talk,” Piggy shot back. “You look like a dried-up fish.”

“At least I don’t eat like a pig.”

“Say one more word about me and you’ll regret it.”

“There’s nothing you can do, Piggy,” Slim Bone boasted. “Unless you want me to roast you for barbecue.”

Piggy shuddered. There were rumors Slim Bone ate babies—roasted them over an open fire and sucked the bones clean until they gleamed white. He clamped his mouth shut.

“Better to stay quiet than end up in my skinny belly,” Slim Bone added with a smirk.

Piggy muttered something under his breath and cursed silently.

“Did I hear something?” Slim Bone asked, leaning closer.

Manny and the others had been listening from the shadows. The moment the bickering died down, Manny raised his blowgun and fired two darts tipped with sleeping poison.

Slim Bone felt a sharp sting in his neck and winced. “Piggy, did you really just—?” He took one stumbling step toward his partner.

“Do what?” Piggy started to say—then felt the same sting. “Ow!” His hand flew to his neck. He pulled out the tiny dart, stared at it for half a second, and crumpled to the ground. Slim Bone had already collapsed.

Manny’s team dragged the unconscious bandits out of sight and deeper into the forest.

Harry’s men moved fast. With quick swings of their machetes, they hacked through the ropes of the suspension bridge. It groaned, snapped, and plunged into the gorge below. Then they hurried after Manny.

Back at the village, the boss was enjoying himself, strutting among the terrified villagers. He had expected weapons, resistance—anything. Instead, they were unarmed and helpless. How do people even live like this? he wondered, kicking at the dirt.

His eyes landed on a pretty young woman. He stopped, drinking in her looks.

“What’s a beauty like you doing in a hellhole like this?” he asked, lifting her chin with the barrel of his rifle.

“This is my home,” she answered, voice steady despite the fear in her eyes.

“Good,” he said with a ugly laugh. “Because you’re spending the night with me in your damn home.”

Harry’s team caught up with Manny in the forest. They tied the two bandits securely to a thick tree trunk. Harry pulled a small vial of smelling salts from his pocket, waved it under their noses.

Slim Bone and Piggy jerked awake with startled gasps.

Who dares do this to us?” Slim Bone spat, his head finally clearing.

“You’ll pay in blood,” Piggy snarled at the young men who had tied them up.

“Cut off his chubby cheek,” Harry ordered.

Manny’s face split into a delighted grin. He pinched Piggy’s fat cheek between dirty fingers, squeezing until the skin went white. Piggy squirmed, ropes biting into his wrists, but he couldn’t move an inch.

“Don’t,” Piggy begged, voice cracking. “Please—”

“Shut up, Sade,” Harry snapped, shoving so hard he stumbled. “Say another word and you’ll get the same.”

Sade turned his face away, eyes squeezed shut.

Manny drew a long, wicked knife. He traced the blade lightly across Piggy’s cheek, humming like a butcher admiring meat. “Such nice, flabby cheeks. Perfect for a barbecue.”

Piggy whimpered. A dark stain spread across the front of his trousers.

Manny laughed. “Look at the big bad bandit pissing himself.”

Then he cut.

The knife slid in deep and sawed outward. Piggy’s scream came out a wet, gurgling howl as half his cheek flopped away, exposing teeth and raw red muscle all the way to the hinge of his jaw. Blood poured down his neck in thick ropes.

Manny flicked the chunk of flesh to the dirt like discarding an apple core.

Slim Bone stared at it, eyes burning with lust.

Harry crouched in front of him. “Ready to tell me why you and your boys jumped our village?”

“I’m not the boss,” Slim Bone said through clenched teeth, never looking away from what used to be Piggy’s face.

“Doesn’t matter.” Harry stood and nodded to Manny. “Take his eyes.”

“Wait—” Slim Bone jerked against the ropes, panic finally breaking through.

Manny’s grin widened with childlike joy. He knelt, pried Slim Bone’s left eyelid open with a thumb, and poised the knife.

Slim Bone thrashed, remembering the old woman he’d raped years ago—how she’d spat in his face and cursed him:

“You’ll meet your end blind, screaming, and helpless.”

Now the tip of the blade hovered an inch from his eyeball, and he knew the curse had found him.

Manny dug his fingers into Slim Bone’s left eye socket and popped the orb out with a wet, sucking sound. Slim Bone screamed, a raw, animal howl that echoed through the trees. Tied securely to the trunk, there was nothing he could do but thrash and sob as blood poured down his cheek.

Manny stood over him, wiping the gore on his trousers. “This fool can’t even take a little pain,” he spat, “yet he and his gang go around inflictin’ it on innocent folk.”

“Give the eye to the fat one,” Harry said with a crooked grin. “Let him eat it.”

Manny laughed, a low, ugly sound. “Maybe he’ll suck the juice out.”

Piggy could only watch in frozen horror as they forced Slim Bone’s bloody eyeball between his lips. One of them clamped Piggy’s jaw shut while another punched him in the gut until he chewed. With half his cheek already carved away, they could see his yellowed teeth grinding the slick orb to pulp. Tears streamed down Piggy’s face as he gagged and whimpered.

“You idiots picked the wrong village to raid,” Harry said, voice calm and cold. “Manny, cut the fat one’s prick off and stuff it in Slim Bone’s mouth.”

Piggy squirmed, kicking uselessly against the ropes that bit into his wrists and ankles. Manny sliced the front of Piggy’s filthy trousers open, letting the pale, flabby member flop out.

“I always guessed it,” Manny sneered, flicking the thing with the tip of his knife. “Fat bastards always got tiny cocks. Look at this—barely bigger than a ten-year-old boy’s.”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “Still sore that Fat Emma left you for Joy?”

“I still don’t get what she saw in him,” Manny muttered.

“Maybe yours was too big for her,” one of the others joked.

Manny barked a laugh. “That must be it. She used to scream when I fucked her—proper scream, mind—and beg me to stop. Even called me ‘Daddy’ once.” He dropped his voice into a mocking falsetto: “‘Daddy, I’m tired, please…’”

The men roared with laughter.

One of the younger ones wiped his eyes. “So even a woman named Joy couldn’t give the fat fuck any joy?”

“Now you mention it,” Manny said, grinning wide, “I ain’t surprised.”

In one clean, practiced motion he brought the blade down and severed Piggy’s member at the root. Piggy’s scream tore through the night like a blade itself.

Harry’s smile vanished. “Shut him up,” he snapped.

The young man who’d joked earlier drove his knife straight into Piggy’s heart. The scream cut off with a wet gurgle as Piggy sagged against the ropes, dead.

Harry rounded on the killer. “You fucking idiot! We weren’t finished with him!”

“S-sorry, boss,” the boy stammered, face pale.

Manny just shrugged, grabbed the bloody scrap of flesh, and shoved it past Slim Bone’s lips. To everyone’s surprise, Slim Bone chewed slowly, almost thoughtfully, then smacked his lips.

“Thank you,” he rasped, managing a broken, red smile. “At least I’ll die knowing I tasted something good.”

“Take his other eye,” Harry ordered.

Manny did it with relish.

While Slim Bone was still screaming, they cut his bonds and forced him face-down onto the dirt. Four men pinned his limbs as Manny heated a long, sharpened iron pole in the fire until it glowed. Then, with steady hands, he drove it into Slim Bone’s anus—slowly, carefully—pushing until the red-hot tip emerged between the man’s teeth without quite killing him.

They hoisted the living spit onto their shoulders, carried him back to the bridge the gang had used to enter the village, and hung him there like a warning lantern for anyone else who might come in the night.

Then they melted back into the forest, already laughing about the next band of raiders who’d make the same mistake.

To be continued...