unfeasible.”
“I see,” said Gail. “Again you’re right. We could wind up getting killed here before we even make it out.”
“You know, Gail,” said Ginger, “both Mark and I have Porsche Cayennes. They’re both SUVs, and you can drive mine while Mark and I go together in his.”
“Great idea, Ginger,” beamed Steve. “Thank you.”
Mark and Ginger smiled at each other and hugged. Gail reached over and, taking Ginger’s hand, smiled and thanked her.
“Good,” Steve said, “Is anybody not on board with this?”
Everyone gave Ana a sideways glance, but she said, “No, it’s good. You all thought this out. I see that. Good work.”
Max shot up. “Great, let’s start gathering our essentials, food, and water, and then we will begin siphoning gas from the remaining cars and topping off our tanks. Maybe we can find some containers to carry a little extra with us?”
At that, the meeting broke up, and everyone, talking excitedly, went off to start getting ready for the excursion. They knew it was bad out there, but they were about to find out just how bad.
8
P ierre Bouchard looked down at the person sitting in front of him. He smiled as the man tilted his face up to meet his gaze. His left eye was blackened and his lip cut. He was drenched with sweat, but although he looked defiant, Bouchard could see the fear in his eyes.
“Are you sure?” Bouchard asked sympathetically.
“Go fuck yourself, asshole,” the prisoner spat. “I ain’t telling you anything.”
“Reeeally?” Bouchard chuckled. “You know, I thought you’d say that. But that’s okay. You don’t have to tell me what I want to know. Instead…” he said, nodding his head to the side. The gesture brought a small, mild-looking man up to stand beside him. “I’ll have you talk with my friend here. He’s really anxious to hear what you have to say.”
Glancing at the slight man with the small smile on his almost pleasant face, Vince Pasko turned to Bouchard. “If I won’t talk to you, what the fuck makes you think I’ll talk to this little scumbag?”
“Him?” Bouchard left, pointing his thumb at his companion. “Why, he’s a real people person. Has a way with getting the conversation started. I’ll leave you two to chat.”
Bouchard waved good-bye, turned, and walked with his two other thugs out the door behind him. This left just Vince and the other man looking at each other. Vince was duct-taped to a heavy wooden chair that was nailed to the floor. The only light in the room came from a small skylight set in the ceiling. Vince could only see clearly in the small circle of light around him. The rest of the room was dark.
As they stared at each other, Vince said, “You’re wasting your time, little man. I ain’t gonna say another word to you.”
Turning to the side, the man walked out of the light. As he came back into the ring of visibility, Vince could see that he was pushing a rattling cart in front of him. It was covered by a dirty and what looked like dark rust-stained cloth. The man deliberately pushed it in front of Vince. Pulling off the cloth and throwing it off to the side, he made the vast array of tools in front of him accessible. There were knives, saws, dental tools, hammers, and a number of other weirdly shaped or bladed instruments. Vince’s eyes opened with fear. He started to struggle with his bindings but couldn’t move an inch. He looked back up to that pleasant face and found only a blank, dead look. Though his eyes seemed almost to shine, they stared unblinkingly into Vince’s eyes.
With the corners of his mouth curling slightly up, the man at last opened his mouth for the first time. “Hello. My name is Carlos.”
He looked down and sorted through his tools. Finally, he picked up what looked like a chrome handle with a rather large fishhookattached. Looking back at Vince with the same unnerving expression, he took two steps up to him and, grabbing his hair with a surprisingly
“I see,” said Gail. “Again you’re right. We could wind up getting killed here before we even make it out.”
“You know, Gail,” said Ginger, “both Mark and I have Porsche Cayennes. They’re both SUVs, and you can drive mine while Mark and I go together in his.”
“Great idea, Ginger,” beamed Steve. “Thank you.”
Mark and Ginger smiled at each other and hugged. Gail reached over and, taking Ginger’s hand, smiled and thanked her.
“Good,” Steve said, “Is anybody not on board with this?”
Everyone gave Ana a sideways glance, but she said, “No, it’s good. You all thought this out. I see that. Good work.”
Max shot up. “Great, let’s start gathering our essentials, food, and water, and then we will begin siphoning gas from the remaining cars and topping off our tanks. Maybe we can find some containers to carry a little extra with us?”
At that, the meeting broke up, and everyone, talking excitedly, went off to start getting ready for the excursion. They knew it was bad out there, but they were about to find out just how bad.
8
P ierre Bouchard looked down at the person sitting in front of him. He smiled as the man tilted his face up to meet his gaze. His left eye was blackened and his lip cut. He was drenched with sweat, but although he looked defiant, Bouchard could see the fear in his eyes.
“Are you sure?” Bouchard asked sympathetically.
“Go fuck yourself, asshole,” the prisoner spat. “I ain’t telling you anything.”
“Reeeally?” Bouchard chuckled. “You know, I thought you’d say that. But that’s okay. You don’t have to tell me what I want to know. Instead…” he said, nodding his head to the side. The gesture brought a small, mild-looking man up to stand beside him. “I’ll have you talk with my friend here. He’s really anxious to hear what you have to say.”
Glancing at the slight man with the small smile on his almost pleasant face, Vince Pasko turned to Bouchard. “If I won’t talk to you, what the fuck makes you think I’ll talk to this little scumbag?”
“Him?” Bouchard left, pointing his thumb at his companion. “Why, he’s a real people person. Has a way with getting the conversation started. I’ll leave you two to chat.”
Bouchard waved good-bye, turned, and walked with his two other thugs out the door behind him. This left just Vince and the other man looking at each other. Vince was duct-taped to a heavy wooden chair that was nailed to the floor. The only light in the room came from a small skylight set in the ceiling. Vince could only see clearly in the small circle of light around him. The rest of the room was dark.
As they stared at each other, Vince said, “You’re wasting your time, little man. I ain’t gonna say another word to you.”
Turning to the side, the man walked out of the light. As he came back into the ring of visibility, Vince could see that he was pushing a rattling cart in front of him. It was covered by a dirty and what looked like dark rust-stained cloth. The man deliberately pushed it in front of Vince. Pulling off the cloth and throwing it off to the side, he made the vast array of tools in front of him accessible. There were knives, saws, dental tools, hammers, and a number of other weirdly shaped or bladed instruments. Vince’s eyes opened with fear. He started to struggle with his bindings but couldn’t move an inch. He looked back up to that pleasant face and found only a blank, dead look. Though his eyes seemed almost to shine, they stared unblinkingly into Vince’s eyes.
With the corners of his mouth curling slightly up, the man at last opened his mouth for the first time. “Hello. My name is Carlos.”
He looked down and sorted through his tools. Finally, he picked up what looked like a chrome handle with a rather large fishhookattached. Looking back at Vince with the same unnerving expression, he took two steps up to him and, grabbing his hair with a surprisingly
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