Chapter 7
The drive to Brendan’s “buddy’s” house was only about half an hour
long. When the car stopped, Brian found
himself in front of an old, ranch-style house, sitting in the middle of a
cornfield. He remembered passing other
houses a ways back, but this house was at least a mile away from any them. Looking further down the road, he didn’t see
any houses ahead either. He was in the
middle of nowhere, where there was no one to find him and help him.
“Nice place, eh?” Brendan asked, as he opened Brian’s door and
jerked him out of the car. Brian’s
wrists and ankles were tied together, and he stumbled, falling hard to the
ground.
“Oh, get up,” Brendan said in irritation, kicking Brian in the
back.
Brian let out a sharp gasp of pain, as Brendan’s heel drove into
his back, and bit his lip to keep from crying out.
“There,” Brendan muttered, slicing the cord tying Brian’s ankles
together. “Now get your ass up!” He bent down and yanked Brian up. “Come on.”
Holding his gun to Brian’s back, he shoved him up the driveway and
into the open garage. A man stood
inside the garage, waiting for them. He
was a greasy, fat, disgusting-looking man, and he was holding a beer bottle in
one hand.
“This the guy?” he asked gruffly.
“Gee, ya think, Sonny?” Brendan replied sarcastically.
The man - Sonny, as Brendan had called him - just grunted in reply
and went inside through the back door.
Brendan and Brian followed.
“Take ‘im downstairs,” Sonny ordered, pointing to a door that led
to a flight of stairs which went down to the basement.
Brendan nodded and jerked Brian towards the doors. He practically dragged Brian downstairs to a
dark, musty basement. The basement was
not finished, with cinder-block walls and a cracked cement floor. It was sparsely furnished with a dirty old
sofa that smelled faintly of stale cigarette smoke, a wobbly coffee table, and
a cheap entertainment center against one wall, which held stacks of old
magazines, a small, ancient television, and an equally ancient stereo
system. The gray walls were bare,
except for a collection of stuffed animals heads mounted on one wall for
decoration. Brian supposed this Sonny
was some kind of hunter.
Sonny had followed Brendan and Brian down the stairs. He caught Brian looking at the stuffed heads
and smiled eerily. “Like my
collection?” he asked, snickering. Brian
studied him with wide eyes, saying nothing.
“Unfold the hide-a-bed, Sonny,” Brendan commanded.
“Sure thing, boss,” Sonny replied, removing the cushions from the
couch and setting up the bed that folded out of it. The hide-a-bed was lumpy and sunk down in
the middle. It was covered with a sheet
that had probably once been white, but now looked gray with dirt.
“Welcome to your new home, Brian,” Brendan said, pushing Brian on
to the bed. Brian cried out in pain as
he landed on his still-tied wrists.
Brendan rolled his eyes and jerked Brian up into a sitting position,
taking out his pocket knife to cut the cords away from his wrists. “Now lie down,” he ordered, pushing Brian
back down on the bed so that he was lying flat on his back.
Brian held still and tried desperately to hold back tears as
Brendan stretched his arms out from his sides and tied his wrists to the metal
legs of the hide-a-bed. He did the same
with his ankles and stretched one cord across Brian’s middle so that Brian was
once again lying flat on a bed, unable to move.
“There. Comfy?” Brendan
asked sarcastically, laughing maliciously.
Brian tried his best to ignore his twin, but that was difficult.
“What am I s’posed ta feed ‘im?” Sonny asked, eyeing his
prisoner.
“Don’t feed him nothin’,” Brendan replied. “I’ll take care of that. Just make sure he gets some water once a
day.”
“Alrighty, boss,” Sonny said.
“I won’t let ya down.”
“You better not,” Brendan said, narrowing his eyes at Sonny. “Or else.”
***
“Where have you been, honey?” Leighanne asked, as Brendan walked
into the house.
“Just running a few errands,” he replied, leaning over to kiss her
cheek.
“Oh. What did you get?”
“Huh?”
“What did you get?” she repeated, looking at his empty hands.
“Oh! Uh… nothing. See, I was looking for some… uh…” He looked around desperately and spotted a
small potted plant sitting in the windowsill of the kitchen. “… some fertilizer. Yeah, some fertilizer… for your
garden.” He smiled inwardly,
relieved. “This clay soil… it just isn’t
good for growing plants.”
Leighanne nodded. “So you
didn’t find any?” she asked.
“Nope. Couldn’t find the
right stuff. Guess Lowe’s is all out,”
he replied.
“Oh, okay. Well, I was
just about to go out and look for a new soaker hose for the garden. The old one’s got a clog in it that I can’t
seem to get out. I should have told you
this morning; you could have picked one up while you were at Lowe’s.”
“Oh, yeah, you should have,” Brendan said. “Well, I’ll be upstairs.”
Leighanne watched him hurry up the stairs and shrugged. She grabbed her purse and keys and left the
house.
***
Leighanne browsed the
gardening section of the local Lowe’s, looking for hoses. She spotted some hanging on the back wall
and started towards them. As she walked
along, a display at the end of one of the aisles caught her eyes.
She stopped to find herself standing in front of a shelf of large
green bags of plant fertilizer, marked down to a special sale price.
“That’s funny,” she murmured, narrowing her eyes at the
display. “I thought they were all out.”
***
