this thing is it, Boss,” Pudge said. The men went silent, and then metallic banging echoed down the hall.
“There’s a goddamn camera set up so Stanley can get his rocks off watching replays of him banging someone? How long does the damn thing run? Is there a tape in it?” More pounding.
“Vincent, there’s no tape in that machine.” Pudge’s voice pitched up an octave.
“Well, where did it go? If a tape was running when you were in here—oh Christ, Pudge. Do not tell me you’re on camera smashing Long Dong Anderson’s skull in. Why does this happen to me? All I want are my fucking nuts back! There’s got to be some record of what that rat did with them. If I have to tear this goddamn place apart …” Vincent’s voice had begun quietly and ended in a bellow.
“What if the cops have it?” Pudge dared to interject.
“You better hope they don’t fucking have it. Keep hunting.”
Almost as one, Coop, Eddy, and I shifted away from the doorway. The two strange men themselves were fucking nuts. We needed to get out of there before this Vincent, aka the Boss, and Pudge decided they had to take a leak.
Coop leaned into Eddy and me. “I have an idea,” he whispered. “Three of us won’t make it past the office door without being seen. But I think I can. I’ll sneak out onto the floor and turn on the speaker system and the bingo machine. It’s loud, and I’ll stick the microphone close to the balls. It’ll almost sound like gunfire. Then I’ll head out the front doors. You guys do the emergency door. When you hear guns, run!” Coop scooted around Eddy and me. “Wish me luck,” he said quietly, and slipped out the door.
Eddy and I peeked around the doorjamb to watch. As Coop closed in on the office, I saw he’d stuck the tape in his jacket pocket and it was dangerously close to tumbling out. I wanted to warn him, but Vincent and Pudge would hear me. He passed Kinky’s office. As he moved into the shadows, the tape fell to the floor with an incredibly loud clatter.
After that, everything was a blur. Coop scrambled to grab the tape. His foot inadvertently bumped it, sending it skittering down the floor ahead of him. Two shadowy figures raced out of the office. The rubber on Coop’s tennis shoes made desperate squeaking sounds on the cracked linoleum. He propelled himself from the hallway and into the bingo area, the two men tearing after him.
Eddy and I took off like spitballs out of a straw. She hit the emergency release on the door with the heel of her hand and we fled through the opening. Sirens screeched, slamming into my ears with the force of a physical assault. Red lights mounted beneath the walkway roof flashed bright.
A secondary gangway led from the barge, landing at the back of the boat very near where we’d boarded. A Supplies Only sign was attached to the railing next to it. Eddy and I were over the supply bridge in a flash.
We crossed the road and ducked into a thick stand of trees between the barge and the lot we’d parked in. I pulled up short, grabbed a tree trunk for support, and struggled to catch my breath.
“You okay?” I gasped.
Eddy nodded, her cheeks puffing as she blew out air. “Where’s Nicholas?”
Sirens still blared from the barge, and the red lights strobed, but we saw no other people. No Coop. No bad guys.
“Come on, child, we need to haul ass out of here.”
I stumbled after Eddy. Real police sirens sounded in the distance, urging us to move our keisters. We burst out of the woods and climbed into Eddy’s truck.
“Where the hell is Coop?” Near the barge, the silhouettes of a short, chubby figure and a taller, heavy-set man scrambled away from the barge. They ran across the street, jumped into a parked car, and rocketed off down the road.
“Boy’s on his own now. Pray.” With that, Eddy put the truck in reverse, hit the accelerator, and executed a textbook one-eighty. She slammed the gearshift into drive and jammed the pedal home.
As the
“There’s a goddamn camera set up so Stanley can get his rocks off watching replays of him banging someone? How long does the damn thing run? Is there a tape in it?” More pounding.
“Vincent, there’s no tape in that machine.” Pudge’s voice pitched up an octave.
“Well, where did it go? If a tape was running when you were in here—oh Christ, Pudge. Do not tell me you’re on camera smashing Long Dong Anderson’s skull in. Why does this happen to me? All I want are my fucking nuts back! There’s got to be some record of what that rat did with them. If I have to tear this goddamn place apart …” Vincent’s voice had begun quietly and ended in a bellow.
“What if the cops have it?” Pudge dared to interject.
“You better hope they don’t fucking have it. Keep hunting.”
Almost as one, Coop, Eddy, and I shifted away from the doorway. The two strange men themselves were fucking nuts. We needed to get out of there before this Vincent, aka the Boss, and Pudge decided they had to take a leak.
Coop leaned into Eddy and me. “I have an idea,” he whispered. “Three of us won’t make it past the office door without being seen. But I think I can. I’ll sneak out onto the floor and turn on the speaker system and the bingo machine. It’s loud, and I’ll stick the microphone close to the balls. It’ll almost sound like gunfire. Then I’ll head out the front doors. You guys do the emergency door. When you hear guns, run!” Coop scooted around Eddy and me. “Wish me luck,” he said quietly, and slipped out the door.
Eddy and I peeked around the doorjamb to watch. As Coop closed in on the office, I saw he’d stuck the tape in his jacket pocket and it was dangerously close to tumbling out. I wanted to warn him, but Vincent and Pudge would hear me. He passed Kinky’s office. As he moved into the shadows, the tape fell to the floor with an incredibly loud clatter.
After that, everything was a blur. Coop scrambled to grab the tape. His foot inadvertently bumped it, sending it skittering down the floor ahead of him. Two shadowy figures raced out of the office. The rubber on Coop’s tennis shoes made desperate squeaking sounds on the cracked linoleum. He propelled himself from the hallway and into the bingo area, the two men tearing after him.
Eddy and I took off like spitballs out of a straw. She hit the emergency release on the door with the heel of her hand and we fled through the opening. Sirens screeched, slamming into my ears with the force of a physical assault. Red lights mounted beneath the walkway roof flashed bright.
A secondary gangway led from the barge, landing at the back of the boat very near where we’d boarded. A Supplies Only sign was attached to the railing next to it. Eddy and I were over the supply bridge in a flash.
We crossed the road and ducked into a thick stand of trees between the barge and the lot we’d parked in. I pulled up short, grabbed a tree trunk for support, and struggled to catch my breath.
“You okay?” I gasped.
Eddy nodded, her cheeks puffing as she blew out air. “Where’s Nicholas?”
Sirens still blared from the barge, and the red lights strobed, but we saw no other people. No Coop. No bad guys.
“Come on, child, we need to haul ass out of here.”
I stumbled after Eddy. Real police sirens sounded in the distance, urging us to move our keisters. We burst out of the woods and climbed into Eddy’s truck.
“Where the hell is Coop?” Near the barge, the silhouettes of a short, chubby figure and a taller, heavy-set man scrambled away from the barge. They ran across the street, jumped into a parked car, and rocketed off down the road.
“Boy’s on his own now. Pray.” With that, Eddy put the truck in reverse, hit the accelerator, and executed a textbook one-eighty. She slammed the gearshift into drive and jammed the pedal home.
As the
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