Free Survivor: 1 by J. F. Gonzalez Page B

bedroom. "But who gives a shit? What
matters is that nobody will know afterward. That cop that
pulled you over yesterday? He's got nothing on me. And
when this is all over, this here," he pointed to his scruffy
beard, "gets shaved off and I wear my contact lenses for a
while. Maybe lose a few pounds. Trust me, we had this
planned for a while. The van I used last night is already in
Mexico, the driver's license I used was fake. In short, the
cops got nothing on me. And this place?" He swept his hands around the cabin. "It's so far off the beaten track
nobody will know anything. Nearest neighbor is a mile
away, and-"

    "Nobody will hear me if I scream," Lisa finished.
    if they do, they'll think it's just the coyotes howling at
the moon." Mr. Smith grinned. And besides, you'll be too
fucked up to do any screaming. The shit Al will shoot you
up with ... you'll be conscious, but you won't be able to
scream."
    Lisa was silent. Mr. Smith watched her for a moment,
then bent down to pick up his toolbox., He started heading outside.
    "What about the people who are into this?" she asked.
Mr. Smith stopped at the doorway and looked back at
her. "The people that ... pay to watch. I mean..." She
gestured vaguely. "What kind of people are into this?
Why? Why do they do it?"
    Mr. Smith appeared to ponder the question before he
answered. "More than fifty percent of the people that
watch snuff films are weak, inadequate, high-profile people with high-profile jobs, mostly people in the business
community: corporate executives and CEOs, bankers,
people like that. Some of them are high-priced lawyers.
The others are participants in the extreme hardcore
scene just looking for something they haven't seen or
done. As to why they do it .. " He paused, stroking his
chin. "It's a power trip," he said, looking directly at her. "It's
a rush for them. It gets them off. Extreme hardcore and
snuff isn't just about sex. It's about owning someone,
making them beg for mercy, deciding whether or not
they're going to give it. It is the ultimate power over someone. When the ... people who are into this kind of
stuff ... when they watch a snuff film, they like to imagine what it's like ... what the killer feels. They like to pretend they're him, doing the things he's doing. They get a tremendous sense of power, knowing they orchestrated
the torture and death of another human being."

    The thought terrified her, but she tried not to show it.
"What about the guy that will be doing it ... the Animal?
-Why does he do it?*
    Mr. Smith grinned. `1 guess you'll have to ask him." He
turned and left the room.
    Lisa sat on the bed, all hope draining away. She had no
idea what time it was now. There was no clock in the bedroom, and the sun had been up for how long? Two
hours? Three? All sense of time was a blur. She had barely
slept last night, especially after being forced to pee on
the mattress she slept on. She had started crying after
soiling her mattress, and the next thing she remembered,
the sun was coming up. She supposed it could be anywhere between eight and eleven o'clock in the morning
by now.
    Her bladder felt full again and she stood up, walked
into the bathroom, lifted the toilet lid, and sat down. She
peed, then flushed the toilet. The urge to wipe came, but
then she thought, why should 1? Mr. Smith was bringing
the Animal to rape and kill her anyway. Why clean up for
him? She stood up and moved to the sink, sobbing quietly as she washed her hands. Even though she had just
found out she was pregnant, she was already picturing
what her and Brad's baby would look like. And now it
was all going to be snuffed out. She took a deep breath
and hung her head over the sink, trying to calm herself
down. When her sobs trickled down, she looked in the
mirror at her reflection. There were large, dark circles under her eyes, the whites red. Despite not sleeping much
last night, and everything else she had gone through,