Sangre De Toro (Old Draft - Now Published!)

Chapter 40 - Leaving on a Jetplane

Rita sobbed, curled up on the floor, as Pepelito licked her face and arms in an effort to calm her. Lying with her hands tied behind her back, she was unable to do anything about his kind, well meant but thoroughly unwanted show of bovine affection. His long black tongue was rough like a cat's. He'd been startled by her screams, but otherwise seemed unnervingly chilled - much more so than her.

Chicero was as far away as he could get, shivering, drooling, giving her frightened looks and horning the floor. What kind of life had this poor animal had? Seeing his terror, her heart broke for the bull - but she was glad not to be anywhere near him.

She remembered turning down Castella's track - and nothing after that.

How long had she been here? Hours? Days?

Managing to sit up against the side of the container with her knees against her stomach, she tried to break her restraints against the wall, but couldn't undo the zip ties. The chain was about two metres long, but tied tightly around her waist and was secured by a padlock. Metal bars ran down the side of the container, separating her and Pepelito from Chicero.

'He knows I’m a cop, dulcito. This man is completely insane.'

While she stared at one of the cameras in the corner of the plastic box, Pepelito licked her shoulder. She froze, feeling vulnerable on the floor as he lumbered around. He would never hurt her on purpose, but he was horned, often clumsy, and a hefty size.

'Yeah, you're going to want to stop him climbing on your bed again, let alone lying down, especially if you're in it,' Alfonso laughed. Rita had taken to wearing steel capped police issue boots in the house in case the bull stood on her feet.

'How much do you reckon he weighs?'

'Um, the toros bravos are bred to be athletic, so lighter than some of the beef breeds, but 'lighter' is relative. I'd say he's average for the breed, maybe about 600 kilos? The bigger ones can get up to 800. Resting his head is fine but you'd be in trouble if he sat on you.'

Where was Alfonso?

He would be going out of his mind with worry. She swallowed, listening to the footsteps above her, as the cable tie cut into her wrists. With a lurch of nausea, she realised exactly what was happening.

Henry was leaving - and taking them with him.

Rita blinked back tears, self conscious, as if the bulls were an audience requiring she compose herself. Pepelito blithely got up, walked several paces away from her and then peed on the orange mat covering the floor, before grunting loudly, walking back and licking the back of her top. Suddenly, the tears gave way to laughter, especially when the black bull turned away, seeming embarrassed. Despite the worry of Pepelito's horns, the two bulls lightened an unbearable situation. They took her mind off whatever Henry had planned.

With them, she wasn't alone.

'Thanks for being here,' she said to both animals, and meant it.

'Right, you two. The subject of today's talk is serial homicide. There are two types of serial killers, organised and disorganised,' she said to the bulls as if she was giving a presentation. Chicero looked at her through the bars, confused but maybe less frightened.