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Mike scowled. “But I’d never be able to face my
sister again. Can you hang onto the frame?”
“Yeah. Maybe. Why?”
“We got company, boy.”
Mike jumped into the jeep and started it. Benny
grabbed a handful of frame and hung on, while a woman shouted in rage.
He was dragged down through the weeds and hit a patch
of needles attached to a clump of Canadian Thistle. Benny yelped in pain, then
started cursing as Mike shouted. The wheels turned, and Benny was too busy trying
to keep his feet from being run over, but at least they were on a road, now,
slush-filled potholes and all.
The wheels turned again and the jeep stopped. Mike’s
shoes crashed to the road, then Mike’s face showed.
“Still with me, Grey?” He scowled. “Too bad.”
Reaching under the jeep, he dragged Benny out. Benny
popped him in the face, but Mike ducked a second punch.
“Lay off that,” Mike said and tried to rattle
Benny’s brains with a good shake. “That wannabe birdie is coming. Christ,
but I bet she dreams of making colonel without touching a oak leaf.” Fishing
in a pocket, he shoved creds into Benny’s pants, then dragged him into a
building.
“This area is close to what passes for civilization,
so beat it,” Mike said, rising from the floor of a wrecked store. “You’re
on your own.”
“Mike . . . “
Mike ran from the building and the jeep roared away.
Benny rolled away and crawled into a tangle of shelves
and trash. Lights flashed through the building. They moved slowly, coming back,
but he hid his face from them till they moved on.
Not trusting his legs here, he crawled towards the
back of the store. Light shot out at him.
“Grey,”
a woman shouted. “Halt.”
Benny glared at her. The woman and two men charged in,
standing over him and smiling.
“Promotion,” she said. “I’ll make major for
this.” Smiling, she added, “And that Donnelly bastard will cook for helping
you.”
©2004 StoriesByEmail.com
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