Free Bad Medicine by Jude Pittman

Eleven
     
     
    Martine finished applying the last coat of dark red lipstick and stepped back to survey herself in the full-length mirror. Black hair hung to her waist, with a few wisps that had been twisted and sprayed into spikes at her temples. A thick layer of white pancake covered her face, and she'd lined her eyes with the kohl black favored by her new contemporaries.  
    Should be good. Martine smoothed the purple miniskirt and checked the tops of the purple suede thigh highs that completed her new age costume. Satisfied, she grabbed her black suede bag and hustled out the door and down the steps to Commercial Drive .
    The house behind Britannia opened into a large workroom and Diana greeted Martine as soon as she stepped through the door.   Les wasn't there and Diana explained that he was on some kind of special assignment.
    For the most part, the workers consisted of young college students, intent on making a difference to the environment. They were a lively group, excited about their cause and dedicated to equal justice for man and animal alike.
    There were mailers to be stamped, posters to be fastened onto stakes for delivery to the neighborhood and leaflets to be folded. Martine worked steadily for a couple of hours when she noticed several volunteers gathering their jackets.
    Guthrie, who had ignored Martine up to this point, appeared at her elbow.
    "The others got here a couple of hours before you and I did." He leaned in close and Martine forced herself not to shudder.
    "If you could finish up this last stack of mailers, I would be a great help." He rested his hand on her shoulder. "What do you say? Are you game to help me?"
    Warning bells sounded in her head, but anxious to find out if he knew anything about Shannon , Martine shut them down. After all, there were a dozen others listening to Guthrie's request.
    "I guess I could stay for another hour to help you finish the mailers." Martine raised her voice to make certain the others heard her agree to stay behind with Guthrie.
    "That's a good girl." He squeezed her shoulder and walked away.
    For the next hour, Martine worked steadily, folding and sealing the mailers and then packing them in a box for delivery to the post office.
    Gradually she relaxed and forgot about being alone with Guthrie. Across the room, he worked on a box of posters, fastening them to stakes as stacking them into a crate.
    Finally, finished with the last of the mailers, Martine, picked up her bag and walked over to say goodnight to Guthrie.
      "Finished?" Guthrie closed the crate he'd been working on. "I certainly appreciate the work you've done today." He smiled and once again Martine controlled the urge to shudder.
    "I can't let you go without at least offering some refreshments."
    "Thank you, but I really don't need anything. I should be getting home.” Martine held up her cell phone, typed a few strokes and pushed the send button. “My room mate’s expecting me."
    "Nonsense, I insist you at least have a glass of milk and a cookie. It'll only take a minute." Guthrie grabbed her arm and as they talked he led her toward a door at the back of the room.
    "I have everything we need right back here." He pushed the door so it swung inward and, in the same instant, gave Martine's arm a powerful yank and dragged her through the open doorway.
    A monstrous brass bed spread with a bright green comforter dominated the room, and the meaning of the rabbit with the glowing green fur flashed into Martine's brain. Desperate to get away she lunged at Guthrie, but he only spun her around and flung her down on the bed.
    "No you don't my pretty." He pulled her arms behind her back and tied her with what felt like a leather belt.
    "Help," Martine screamed at the top of her lungs.
    "We can't have that now, can we?" Guthrie crooned in a high-pitched singsong voice. He flipped her over and slapped a strip of electrical tape across her mouth.
    "There. Now we won't be disturbed."
    Martine bucked against the