warehouse, stepped back and once more we were being directed by a steel baton held by a mad conductor in a loud polyester suit.
Inside the warehouse, a single lamp burned from the ceiling to a spot about the middle of the floor. Stacks of large crates, some broken open spilling cheap plastic toys, rose like small skyscrapers, homes to the offices and buildings of dolls, robots and cartoon characters. Frank moved us toward the lighted spot.
There, gagged tied to a metal chair, was Alice, and Cindy gasped and ran to her sister's side. Alice's eyes were red and her tears mingled with Cindy's as Cindy hugged her.
"Oh, how touching," Frank said.
"Untie her, Frank," I said, sounding bolder than I felt.
"Sure, friend. Help yourself," he said with a wide grin. Cindy started tugging at the ropes, and I crouched by her to help. The ropes were wound tight, and Alice had places where the flesh had been rubbed raw. She looked into my eyes questioningly, and I looked away at nothing, anything but her or Cindy. I hadn't had time, nor could I have told Cindy about us during all of this. Now I didn't know if I'd ever get the chance. Her hands free, Alice pulled off the gag.
"Oh Cindy, you found me, you found me, thank God."
"Isn't this all touching and sweet, friends?" Frank pointed his gun at Alice. "Now I'm going to need you to tell me where the documents are."
"I don't know what you're talking about. Who are you?" asked Cindy.
And then there was thunder and my leg exploded in pain; Alice and Cindy screamed as I collapsed to the ground, and Frank pointed the gun from my leg to my head.
I don't remember what he or Cindy said after that. It was as though the gunshot never faded and just kept pounding, but the sound was no longer coming from the gun but from the bleeding hole in my leg.
Whatever she said to him, though, it must have satisfied him because I didn't get shot in the head. In fact, Frank put up his gun, came over to me and tied up my leg with his belt. When he cinched the belt as a tourniquet my vision went red, then black, and I lost consciousness.
I woke to harsh lights and rough sheets, Alice holding my hands. I tried to reach over to her and touch her face, but my other arm had a tube in it, and even so I could barely move. "Alice," I said, my voice scratchy and dry. She awoke.
"Oh God, you're alright." And she started to kiss my face, my forehead, my cheeks my eyes.
Inside the warehouse, a single lamp burned from the ceiling to a spot about the middle of the floor. Stacks of large crates, some broken open spilling cheap plastic toys, rose like small skyscrapers, homes to the offices and buildings of dolls, robots and cartoon characters. Frank moved us toward the lighted spot.
There, gagged tied to a metal chair, was Alice, and Cindy gasped and ran to her sister's side. Alice's eyes were red and her tears mingled with Cindy's as Cindy hugged her.
"Oh, how touching," Frank said.
"Untie her, Frank," I said, sounding bolder than I felt.
"Sure, friend. Help yourself," he said with a wide grin. Cindy started tugging at the ropes, and I crouched by her to help. The ropes were wound tight, and Alice had places where the flesh had been rubbed raw. She looked into my eyes questioningly, and I looked away at nothing, anything but her or Cindy. I hadn't had time, nor could I have told Cindy about us during all of this. Now I didn't know if I'd ever get the chance. Her hands free, Alice pulled off the gag.
"Oh Cindy, you found me, you found me, thank God."
"Isn't this all touching and sweet, friends?" Frank pointed his gun at Alice. "Now I'm going to need you to tell me where the documents are."
"I don't know what you're talking about. Who are you?" asked Cindy.
And then there was thunder and my leg exploded in pain; Alice and Cindy screamed as I collapsed to the ground, and Frank pointed the gun from my leg to my head.
I don't remember what he or Cindy said after that. It was as though the gunshot never faded and just kept pounding, but the sound was no longer coming from the gun but from the bleeding hole in my leg.
Whatever she said to him, though, it must have satisfied him because I didn't get shot in the head. In fact, Frank put up his gun, came over to me and tied up my leg with his belt. When he cinched the belt as a tourniquet my vision went red, then black, and I lost consciousness.
I woke to harsh lights and rough sheets, Alice holding my hands. I tried to reach over to her and touch her face, but my other arm had a tube in it, and even so I could barely move. "Alice," I said, my voice scratchy and dry. She awoke.
"Oh God, you're alright." And she started to kiss my face, my forehead, my cheeks my eyes.
