Get a Load of This

by James Hadley Chase

The woman screamed. She fell on her knees in front of de Crespedes, wringing her hands. “We know nothing, Excellency,” she said wildly. “Don’t touch my man.”

De Crespedes looked down at her with a smile. Then he put his dusty boot on her bare breasts and shoved her away. She fell on her side and lay there, her head hidden under her arms.

The soldiers forced Lopez to sit at the table, and they spread his hands flat on the rough wood. Then, using his bayonet like a hatchet, one of the negroes lopped off a finger.

De Crespedes sat looking at the blood that ran across the table and dripped on to the floor. He stood up with a little grimace of disgust.

A thin wailing sound came from Lopez, although he didn’t open his lips. The two soldiers who held him shifted as they strained to keep his hands in position.

“Until he talks,” de Crespedes said, unhooking his jacket and removing his sword-belt.

The negro raised his bayonet and brought it down with a swish. There was a little clicking sound as it went through bone, and he had difficulty in getting the blade out of the hard wood.

De Crespedes threw his jacket and sword-belt on the bench and walked over to the woman. With a grunt, he bent over her. Taking her under her arms, he dragged her into the other room. He threw her on the bed. Then he went back and kicked the door shut. He noticed that it was very hot in the room, although the shutters kept out the sun.

The woman lay on her side, her knees drawn up to her chin. She kept her eyes shut, and her lips moved as she prayed. De Crespedes lowered his bulk on to the bed. He took her knees in his hands and turned her on her back. Then he forced her knees down and ripped the rest of her clothes from her. He did not hurry, and once, when she resisted, pushing at him with her small hands, he thumped her on her chest with his fist, like he was driving in a nail with a hammer.

Then, because he knew this rigid body could give him no pleasure, and because he had much experience, he set about breaking her down. His two hands settled on her arms and his fingers dug into her soft muscles. Her eyes opened and she screamed. He leant on her, crushing her with his bulk, and dug further with his fat, thick fingers. It was not long before the violence of the pain turned the woman into a weeping, gibbering thing of clay on the bed. And when he took her, she lay placid, her tears falling on his shoulder.