The Cracks in the Labyrinth

Chapter 8 (Part 3)

Mr. Comedian finishes the job. I get you his PC.

That's what Papa Smurf had promised Lili. Adam hadn't believed him then, and he didn't believe him now. Not after spending the rest of the morning unloading food supplies from not one but two refrigerator trucks on his own.

After Lili left for work, doubt turned into certainty—Papa Smurf would not keep his end of the bargain.

Too late to change my mind.

The other kids were long gone too; they left once Papa forbade them to help Adam. If he didn't take into account the dozens of cockroaches climbing on the dark grey walls, no one was down there with him, in that gloomy parking lot where wet, stagnant air always lurked, except for the two truck drivers smoking a cigarette and Papa Smurf.

Just a couple more bags, Adam's back muscles felt like bricks, and his legs were on fire. If I'm lucky, these guys will keep him busy until —

"Who's an obedient bitch?"

Damn it!

Adam threw the heavy sack of Harina P.A.N. inside the last store unit to the left.

"Hey! I'm talking to you."

"Coming," Adam said.

"No. I'm cumming," Papa Smurf moved his hand as if he were masturbating.

Adam became very aware of the river of sweat running down his back. As tired as he was, if Papa Smurf tried anything at all, he would fight back, even if it meant ending with holes in his chest and a tag around his big toe.

Don't be stupid! Think of Bianca and Dario.

"What's with the face, Mr. Comedian? It was a joke! Are you mad? You look mad."

"No."

Adam hurried to get the next sack.

"No mood for jokes, huh? Then it would help if you entertained me with facts," Papa Smurf swirled a cigarette between his fingers as he walked away from the truck drivers. "Here's an idea! How long have you been banging your neighbor?"

Adam ran a hand over his head, flicking the sweat to the ground.

Not saying anything might be worse.

"No banging. Just neighbors."

"Bullshit."

"What do you want me to say?"

"Details. Did you ram that big ass before coming down here?"

Adam felt a wave of anger.

"I wish," he replied, saying what Papa Smurf wanted to hear.

"Anyone would want to bang her. Unless you're a fag," the boy tilted his head. "You a fag?"

Done. Adam put the last bag in the storage unit, and his legs quaked; for a moment, he feared they might give way entirely. There was nothing he wanted more than to sit down, at least for a few minutes, to catch his breath, but his adrenaline kept him on edge. Being around Papa Smurf was like being around a wild animal.

"I'm not gay."

"So you've jacked off fantasizing about those tities, am I right?"

He'd finished the job, so why was Papa Smurf keeping him down here? Because he's in control and he likes it. Adam locked the padlock and turned to the boy. Gotta get out of this.

"So? My PC?"

"Right. Your Porno Collection. You look like a sick fuck that enjoys Chinese cartoons about mind-controlling aliens that rape high-school girls and stuff.