Chapter 11 #4
“During World War II, the Japanese had a torture technique for POWs,” Steel told Shaw.
“They would stake men to the ground in bamboo fields and interrogate them. You might be asking yourself why, because what danger could bamboo possibly be?” Steel picked up the small plants he’d been carving only a little while ago.
“Well, rumor has it, that while they were interrogating the prisoners, bamboo saplings from beneath the soil started to grow up and into the prisoners’ bodies as they were secured to the ground.
Eventually, the bamboo would continue growing, impaling the prisoners completely, killing them slowly over several days. ”
Steel took one of the bullets that had killed his daughter and secured it into the top of one of the stalks.
He added a small amount of glue to ensure it wasn’t going anywhere.
The baby stalk was only a few inches tall, Steel having pulled it from the soil only a short time ago.
He repeated the process with the second bullet and stalk.
He dropped himself back down into the hole they’d created in the floor as Scar reentered the cabin.
To Shaw, Steel said, “You’re right that I’m going to kill you with the bullets that you used to kill my daughter.
But you’re wrong about the method or how long it’s going to take.
This species of bamboo can grow one to three feet per day, given direct sunlight and plenty of water.
I imagine it’ll take longer with a body lying on top of it and having to push its way through flesh and bone.
An average human man’s chest depth is about eleven inches to a foot.
So while it took seconds for my daughter to die by these bullets, I estimate it’ll take you more than a day. ”
As Steel knelt to re-bury the stalks into the moist soil below the cabin, the realization of his fate seemed to hit Shaw, and he renewed his struggles to escape with increased vigor. But his efforts would prove futile.
There was no hope for him, and the man knew it.
Steel knew exactly where the bullets had gone through Melanie’s chest, obliterating her heart with their speed and energy before they exited out her back. He reversed their trajectory, placing Shaw’s back over the bullets so they went through his spine and heart before sprouting out his chest.
At first, Shaw struggled. He pulled on the ropes that held him spread-eagle over the fast-growing plants.
The knots held true, as did the heavy metal stakes that secured him to the earth.
Once upon a time, Steel thought Shaw might have been able to escape such bondage, but not now.
Not in his weakened state. Unlike Steel, Shaw clearly had not kept up the physique he’d once had in the military.
Heavy rain overnight soaked Shaw and the ground around him, his body weight dropping him slightly into the moist soil.
The long stakes never budged. By the next morning, Steel was curious if the bamboo was growing as he’d intended.
Shaw’s pain and shouts of torment could also be from having his four limbs stretched beyond their intended extent, but a quick feel under the man’s body and Steel felt the tall stalks embedded into Shaw’s back.
He didn’t think it was very far, but he could not feel the bullets.
It was odd, watching his enemy die slowly.
Second by second, every tick of the clock a countdown, yet neither knowing when the inevitable end would be.
Steel did not feel empathy or regret. He didn’t even feel sorrow.
His own pain did not lessen or increase, its never-ending presence a vortex of grief and sorrow in his chest.
As the first day drew to an end, delirium started to take hold of Shaw as pain, dehydration, and exposure to the harsh elements took their effect.
He started babbling, and even laughed maniacally at one point.
A heavy cough wracked his body, followed by another and then another.
On the fourth, blood spewed up from his mouth as he gasped and struggled to breathe.
From his chair by the table, Steel watched.
Like a predator guarding his kill, he did not take his eyes off Shaw.
Not to sleep, not to eat, not to relieve himself.
He wanted to witness every second of the man’s demise.
The knowledge that Scar was still in the cabin faded to the background, and eventually he forgot about his brother’s presence.
There was nothing in this world but him and Shaw’s slow death.
As night fell and the moon rose, Steel finally moved, but only to flip the switch to turn on the lights surrounding the crater. He would not allow darkness to steal a single moment of Shaw’s torment from him.
It was nearing the second dawn when he knew Shaw’s time was coming to an end. The man’s body started to shake, little tremors as he gasped for air like a fish out of water. Blood coated his mouth, nose, neck, and chest from his violent coughing fits through the night.
Steel stood and approached, unable to stay away. Steel wanted his face to be the last face Shaw saw in this world, wanted the man’s dying thoughts to be solely of him.
Tears streamed from the corners of Shaw’s blue-green eyes as he stared up into Steel’s gun-metal gray. A smile crept over his mouth, revealing blood-stained teeth.
“You think,” he gasped out, “you won?”
Steel squatted down in the mud next to Shaw’s torso. He could only imagine the damage the slow-moving bullets were causing inside the man’s body. “If you think any of this was about winning, then you have no comprehension of a father’s love.”
Shaw coughed again, his raspy voice little more than a whisper. “You’re right,” he choked. “I don’t. But I’m still dying knowing you killed the wrong man.”
Steel’s spine stiffened. “What is that supposed to mean?”
It took a moment of Shaw working his jaw as blood drooled out the corners of his mouth before he was able to speak again. “I didn’t kill your precious Melanie. Tracy Marigold, Athens, West Virginia.” His smile grew even more sinister. “My pain is ending, Jackie, but yours is just beginning.”
And with that prediction, Shaw’s chest constricted, his eyes froze on Steel’s, and his last breath escaped him.