Chapter Text
“…Big wheels keep on turnin'…carry me home to see my kin…”
Singing along to the radio with happy abandon, Face pressed his foot down on the accelerator. With a purr, the car jumped forwards, the afternoon sunlight glinting off the polished body of the ‘vette, as it raced along the stretch of road.
Face laughed, throwing his head back as the wind rushed through his hair.
It was a rare treat. No deadlines or commitments. No MPs chasing him, no madmen shooting at him. No crazy plans, no frantic life or death missions. Just him and the ‘vette, and Hannibal’s promise that he didn’t need to report in for the next few days.
It was a rare vacation and Face intended to make the most of it.
A dark shadow momentarily blocked out the sunlight, and Face slowed down as he approached a billboard, towering over the side of the road.
Lurid, neon writing informed him it was: “Only 100 miles to Devil’s Tower! Turn off here.” He snorted at the gigantic green figure sprawled across it, its alien eyes bugging out, and its three fingered hand raised in a cheerful wave. It was awful and stupid. Murdock would have loved it.
Snorting again, Face shrugged, and turned the car. Why not? No doubt there’d be some terrible tourists’ store he could buy a couple of gimmicky souvenirs from. Then afterwards, he’d find himself a nice, cosy motel, head over to a bar, maybe meet a pretty blon-
The ‘vette’s phone rang.
“Ah, come on!”
It rang again.
“Nope.” Face shook his head, fixing his eyes determinedly on the road. “I’m not answering. You can’t make me, Hannibal.”
The ringing seemed to intensify, though logically Face knew that had to be impossible. He turned up the radio, but the song had changed, and now it was playing the local news. Something about a missing man, and a stolen 1976 Porsche 911, and God, it was all depressing, and with an irritated huff he turned it off.
The phone was still ringing.
“Fine. Fine!” Throwing one hand off the steering wheel in defeat, he leaned over and picked up the receiver. “This had better be an emergency, Hannibal!”
“How did you know it was me?” Face could practically see the smirk in the man’s voice.
“Colonel!”
The voice on the other end laughed, and Face, pulling the handset away from his cheek for a second, narrowed his eyes at it.
“I thought you’d be in a happier mood than this, Lieutenant.”
“I was. When I didn’t think you were calling to tell me you’ve cancelled my vacation.”
“Now is that fair, Face?”
Feeling slightly mollified, and a little ashamed, the blond man sighed. “Well, why are you calling?”
“To tell you I’ve cancelled your vacation.”
“Hannibal!”
“It’s alright, kid. Not straight away.”
“Hmm.” Face turned the radio back on as he slipped the receiver between his head and shoulder. Well, he supposed that wasn’t too bad.
“You’ve got until tomorrow afternoon, and then I need you.”
“Tomorrow afternoon!” The radio was slammed off again. “Hannibal!”
“You’re whining, Face. I can hear it in your voice.”
“I’m not whining; I’m just mad.”
“That’s the spirit. Are you still in Wyoming?”
“I haven’t had time to leave it yet, have I?”
“Excellent. I want you to meet us at a town called Ford. It’s just off highway 14, westbound. 100 miles past Devil’s Tower.” The voice broke up.
“Hannibal? You still there?”
“Still here, kid. We’ve got a rough connection on this end.”
“Are you in the van?”
“Yeah, about 12 hours behind you. Now when you get into town, meet us at a diner called Denny’s. At 1300 hours. The clients are meeting us there.”
Face grumbled his assent, but it was more for show than anything else. By sheer luck, he was already on highway 14, which meant he could still take the rest of the day off to enjoy himself. He could work with that.
“Okay, Hannibal. Do you need anything?”
“Just your charming disposition, kid.” There was a distinctly happy excitement in the Colonel’s voice. “Gonna need it for my plan to work.”
Face gave an incredulous snort. “Are you on the jazz, already?” He grinned. “B.A. must be goin’ crazy.”
“He might have had something to say about it – once or twice.”
Face laughed. “And Murdock? He’s with you?”
“He’s here.” There was a long pause. “He says to tell you that he left Billy behind for this one, so don’t worry about him.”
“I won’t.” Face pressed the receiver closer to his ear. “So you got him out of the VA okay?”
“…Well, we didn’t manage to get him out quite as smoothly as you do, Face, but he’s out now, so that’s the main thing.”
“Not ‘quite as smoothly’?”
“…let’s just say I didn’t know nurses could run that fast. They must have chased us halfway through downtown LA by the time we got away. I don’t know how you do it.”
Face smiled happily. “Is that you saying you need me, Hannibal?”
“Kid, I always need you.”
Face didn’t think he could smile any wider.
“So, that’s 1300 hours tomorrow, Lieutenant.”
“I’ll be there. Bright and early.” Vacations were overrated, anyway. “And let Murdock know I’m bringing him a couple of souvenirs, would you?”
“Better get B.A. something too. He’s feeling a little grouchy.”
A sudden raised bark of anger abruptly overlaid Hannibal’s voice.
“Sounds like his usual cheery self to me.”
The Colonel laughed. “See you tomorrow, kid. Safe driving.”
“You too, Hannibal.”
The line dropped, and Face replaced the receiver. He wondered what the mission was. Something pretty interesting, if Hannibal’s excitement was anything to go by. Well, he’d find out soon enough. Slipping his sunglasses on, he pressed his foot down on the accelerator. The car purred happily, and Face smiled. The feeling was mutual. It was turning out to be a pretty good day.
He switched the radio back on.
“…get by with a little help from my friends…Mm, gonna try with a little help from my friends …”
Perfect.
---
“What was Faceman sayin’, Colonel?”
Hannibal looked over his shoulder at the tall, lean man behind him, hunched forward in the passenger seat. As usual, he was wearing his regular blue cap, his flight jacket, and underneath it one of his many, many t-shirts. This one had the words: “The Three Musketeers” blazoned across it, except Murdock had crossed out the word three and written ‘four’ in bold felt-tip. Hannibal smiled. “Says he’s getting a souvenir for you. You too, B.A.,” he added, to the man beside him in the driver’s seat, “so no need to be jealous.”
B.A. scoffed. “I ain’t jealous. And what’s he wastin’ money on junk for?”
“It’s what friends do, B.A., when they’ve got a bestest bestie,” Murdock answered before Hannibal could. The pilot shrugged his shoulders. “But I guess you wouldn’t know that, seein' as you don’t like anyone.”
“I like plenty of people, fool.”
“Name one.”
“My ma.”
“Name two.”
“I ain’t naming you, if that’s what you’re waiting for, sucker.”
“Guys,” Hannibal warned, lazily. The van fell into silence, and the Colonel smiled. “Good. Now can we pick up the pace, B.A.? I want to be in Wyoming by tonight.”
“What’s the rush, man? I thought you said we ain’t meeting up with Face ‘til tomorrow. We’ll make it with plenty of time to spare.”
Hannibal patted his pockets, frowning when his cigar eluded him. “Hmm? No, there’s no rush. I’ll just be happier when we’re in the same State as our Lieutenant.”
Murdock frowned. “Why? Faceman’s okay, isn’t he, Hannibal?”
“Oh, Face is fine, Murdock. But I get to having this itch down my spine whenever we leave him alone for too long. Our Lieutenant’s got a habit for finding trouble; if it doesn’t find him first. Hah!” Smiling triumphantly, Hannibal pulled a cigar out of his jacket pocket. “I’d just like to be closer at hand if he needs us, that’s all.”
“Sounds to me like you’re gettin’ to have that Stockholm thing, ‘cept the other way around, Hannibal.” B.A. shook his head, and scowled. “It ain’t Face that’s lookin’ for trouble, it’s you. Lynch almost catchin’ us last month got you all twisted up. You shoulda gone on the vacation too, cos it sure sounds like you need one to me, man.”
“Maybe, B.A.” Hannibal puffed on the lit cigar with a satisfied smack of his lips. “Maybe. But in the meantime, let’s hit it.” He looked out of the window. “Because that itch is getting itchier.”
---
Face could not believe it. He couldn’t believe it. It had all been going so well. He’d found Devil’s Tower, taken a bunch of snapshots, bought a couple of hideous souvenirs for the others, and filled his belly with the biggest chili-dog he’d ever seen. All that had been left on his agenda was the motel and bar. And now, less than an hour later, the car was shuddering and whining, and Face couldn’t believe it.
“Seriously?” With a curse that would have had the Sisters of the orphanage tutting, he braked slowly, bringing the ‘vette down to a humiliating snail’s pace. The engine light flashed a warning. “No!” he snapped, because there was no way he was breaking down here. Not on this long stretch of road, with nothing on either side of it except for vast acres of creepy forest on the left, and rolling hills on the right, and all without a single other car in sight. “Nope! Come on!” he huffed. “You are not giving up on me! Come on!” The ‘vette whined, but it continued to roll on, and Face hummed soothingly. “That’s it. Keep going, keep going!” It shuddered. “You can do it! You can -”
The car squealed to a stop.
“You son of a -!”
A pickup truck appeared on the horizon.
What? What were the chances?!
His eyes blinking in shocked surprise at his sudden turn in luck, Face grinned widely. Then quickly turning off the engine, he hurried out of the car, grabbing his wallet and keys and stuffing them in his pocket, and throwing his leather jacket over his newly-pressed shirt. Finally, he pulled his duffel bag out of the back seat.
The pick-up truck neared, rumbling along the road at a sedate pace. Putting the bag down on the road, and waving his hands, Face stepped out onto the highway, and the truck slowed to a stop.
“Hey!” Face smiled, all his teeth showing, and he hurried over to the truck’s window. “Couldn’t give me a ride into town, could you?”
The driver stared back at him. He was about Face’s age, if the blond man had to guess, but he was weathered and bleached by the sun, and deep-set wrinkles folded his cheeks back, so that they seemed to curl up under the small, dark eyes studying the Lieutenant. A cigarette hung out of the man’s mouth, and the teeth that were clamped down on it were yellow and stained. Wisps of dark hair stuck out from underneath a dirty cap, and when he reached up to scratch his nose, Face saw that his fingernails were equally as filthy. He swallowed back his grimace of disgust, and smiled again.
“I’m happy to pay you for the gas.”
The driver spat out a glob of something brown, and then pulling the cigarette out of his mouth, he nodded at the car behind Face. “Given up, has it?”
“Something to do with the engine.” Face shrugged. “I think.”
The driver’s eyes followed the shape of the ‘vette. “Nice car.”
Face nodded. “So, can I have that ride?”
“I guess.” The man shrugged a shoulder. “I can do ya one better though.”
“Yeah?”
“My pa’s a real good mechanic. Got a shop up the road.” He shrugged again. “If you want us to take a look at it.”
For the first time since he’d met the man, Face’s smile was genuine. “Now that,” he said, “sounds great.”
The man nodded, and then he grinned – so slowly that Face began to feel slightly unnerved. It would be just his luck if he’d ran into the only nutcase for miles around. “Where did you say the shop was again?”
“Just up the road. I just come from there.” The man stubbed out his cigarette on the dashboard, and pulled out another. “But if ya don’t wanna come, don’t come. I ain’t fussed.”
Face shook his head, quickly. “No, no. I’m coming. Thanks.” He held out his hand reluctantly, eyeing the dirt coating the man’s palm. “The name’s Peck.”
With another grin that did nothing to put Face at ease, the man climbed out of the truck, and took it. “Tony Jones Junior.” He nodded at the ‘vette. “Let’s hitch this beauty up then, and get goin’.” He looked at Face. “Good thing I ran into ya, wasn’t it?” He cackled, and his folded cheeks stretched out into a warped caricature of a smile. “Real good.”
Face hummed, and wondered why he’d ever thought a vacation was a good idea in the first place.
---
“It’s a blocked fuel injector, that’s what it is. Ain’t nothing else.”
Face nodded confidently, pretending knowledge where he had none. “So easy to fix?” he asked, hopefully.
He was stood in the yard of the shop – a ramshackle sprawl of beaten earth, littered with old cars and miscellaneous parts, all rusting and mouldering under the last of the day’s sunlight. Seemingly, ‘shop’ was a very loose and generous term for whatever this place was. Somewhere in the obscured shadows of the grounds, a dog barked savagely, and Face flinched.
The man in front of him snorted. “Ain’t afraid of dogs, are ya?”
“No.” Face waved a dismissive hand. “Just made me jump, that’s all.” The whole place made him want to jump. It was giving him the creeps. It didn’t help that a dark wooden house – that looked more like a large shack than anything remotely resembling a homestead – loomed ominously over the yard, and that they’d had to take a winding lane up to the place, well off the beaten track. God, it was hitting all the clichés. Face forced down a sudden spate of nerves. “Idiot,” he thought. “You’ve watched too many horror movies with Murdock.” He looked across at the man. “So,” he smiled, “how long to fix it?”
The man – a Mr Tony Jones Senior, as introduced earlier by the proudly grinning Junior – tapped his knuckles against the exposed engine. “50 minutes?”
“Great.”
Face meant it. The sooner he was out of here, the better.
“Y’all want a drink or somethin’?” Junior appeared at Face’s elbow. He held out a jam jar. “Coffee,” he added, helpfully.
Face stared at the dirt-encrusted rim. “I’m fine, thanks.”
“Suit yerself,” and Junior took a slurp from it, a brown slosh of liquid dribbling down his chin.
Face swallowed and turned back around. He looked at the older man. “I’d really appreciate it if you could get to work on it right away.”
Senior ran his tongue across blackening teeth. He belched, rubbing his hand over his protruding belly. “It’ll cost ya extra.”
Behind him, the dog barked again, and Junior swore an expletive at it. Face didn’t believe in revealing his hand – it was one of his most strident rules. But today he couldn’t care less. “I’ll pay double if you can get me on the road in 30 minutes.”
Senior grinned. “Done.” He whistled sharply, and a man appeared from the shack.
“Blocked fuel injector, Charlie,” he hollered as the man approached.
Face stared at him. He was as at least as tall as Murdock, and as muscle-bound as BA.
“On it, boss.”
The man’s gaze swept over the Lieutenant, and he grinned, lingering on the blond man’s face. A glint of appreciation appeared in his eyes. "Charlie,” he offered eagerly, holding out a sweaty hand.
“Peck,” and Face tried not to react as his hand was dwarfed by the man’s.
“Got a name to go with that?”
“Templeton.”
“Fancy name for a fancy man with a fancy car.” The man laughed, and he winked at Face. “I like it,” he added, slowly.
Where was B.A. when Face needed him? He extracted his hand as diplomatically as he could and shrugged. “Not so fancy when it’s just sitting there like a bucket of bolts,” he said, lightly.
“Oh, I like this one, boss!”
“I’ll like him more when he pays us, so get on it, Charlie! Y’all can chat later.”
There very much would not be a later, thought Face, but he nodded when Charlie turned a questioning eye on him, sighing in relief when the man stepped happily away and moved over to the ‘vette.
“Sit on the porch, if ya want.” Senior nodded his head up towards the shack, his chin wobbling as he did so. “An’ if you need to relieve yerself, the outhouse’s round the back.”
Face scrunched his features up in what he hoped was an approximation of a grateful expression, and walked slowly and reluctantly to where the man had indicated. The wooden shack was even more dilapidated up close, and Face lowered himself onto the steps of its porch, with the nervous certainty that they were about to crumble underneath him. They stayed solid, and he let out a relieved breath.
Slowly, he sat back, swatting away a fly buzzing around his head, in absent detachment. He was distracted by the last rays of the sun stretching out across the yard. With a frown, the blond man checked his watch. Okay, then. If he was out of here in 30 minutes, he should still make it to the road with daylight to spare. The dog barked again. Ignoring it, Face chewed his lip. First things first, he’d give Hannibal a call, and then he’d look for a motel. There was bound to be one somewhere along the highway. He opened his mouth to ask the men working down by the car, but then he paused. Maybe he’d keep his plans to himself.
“Y’all okay over there?”
Face gave a thumbs-up to Junior. The man was leaning against the ‘vette’s side, handing tools to Charlie. The muscle-bound man paused and winked up at the Lieutenant again, his face twisted to the side, from where he was bent over the engine. Grinning, he turned back to the car.
Face looked away. “Fine. Just fine, thanks.”
Junior handed another tool to Charlie. “Y’all just let me know if ya want some of that coffee. Or beer. We’ve got beer.”
Face nodded. “I’m all good,” but now the thought of liquid had him shuffling uncomfortably. It’d been a while. He bit the inside of his cheek. There was no way he was using an outhouse in this place though. He could wait. He was a grown man.
“We’ve got water too, I guess.”
With a frustrated growl, Face stood up.
“Just using your facilities,” he called over to Junior, and the man grinned.
“Round the back. Paper’s in the trash can next to it.”
“Of course it is,” Face muttered under his breath, and then hurrying down the steps, he followed the perimeter of the shack.
Unsurprisingly, the back of the building was just as filthy and dilapidated as the front, and Face curled his lip up in disgust. Oh God, he was bound to catch tetanus.
Hurrying between the remains of cars, he found the outhouse. It was just as disgusting as he’d feared, but by a miracle they had running water at least in the faucet, and when he was done, he scrubbed his hands meticulously on a piece of soap that looked like it’d never been used. He gave the brown-stained towel one look, and wiped his hands down the side of his pants instead.
Stepping out of the outhouse, he looked at his watch. Still another 20 minutes to go, if they kept their promise. Face bit his lip. There was no way he wanted to spend them under the eyes of Junior and Charlie, and he glanced around. There was an old Cadillac that looked promising, and he dawdled slowly over towards it. He managed to kill a few minutes examining the 1950s interior and admiring its aesthetics, but even he couldn’t con himself, and he stepped away disinterested. Maybe there was a horse or donkey he could pet. Lord, things were getting desperate if he was starting to think like Murdock.
It was as he was crossing the yard, that he saw it. It was only by chance, for a gust of wind blew over a corner of the tarpaulin that was covering it, but it was enough for him to see the car underneath.
A Porsche 911.
Oh, hell.
Checking that he was still alone, Face hurried over to the tarpaulin. Maybe he’d been mistaken, maybe –
He pulled back the cover. No, there it was. 1976.
Face ran a hand through his hair, and paused. Okay, no need to panic. He’d go back to the front, wait out the 15 minutes he had left, and drive off. Then he’d call the local Sheriff.
And get himself the hell out of dodge.
He lowered the tarpaulin back down, and turned around, satisfied with his plan.
Charlie and Junior were stood in front of him.
“Y’all get lost, city boy?” In his hand, Junior held a hunting rifle. Slowly, he raised it up, so that the barrel was pointing at Face. He grinned suddenly, and turned it away, inspecting the muzzle. He looked back up at the Lieutenant. “Watcha’ doin’, Peck?” He cocked his head, curiously. “Not been mindin’ your own business?” He smiled, and a cold wave of nervousness ran through Face’s body.
The blond man grinned widely. “You got me,” he chuckled, and he held up his hands. “I confess. I’m a car nut. Go crazy for them, I do. Really, my mother plain old despairs. So, when I saw your collection back here? Why, I just couldn’t help myself.” He jerked a thumb over towards the Cadillac. “Now that is what I call a collectible. Boy, if I wasn’t in such a rush, I’d ask you all -”
“What’d ya think of the Porsche?” Charlie suddenly moved forward, and reaching past Face, he jerked the tarpaulin off the car. It slid down in a cloud of dirt and leaves. “Nice, ain’t it?” He rubbed his hand slowly across the hood. “Very nice.” His eyes flickered back to Face. “And very pretty.”
Face pursed his lips, and shook his head. “Not really my bag.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I’m more of a Corvette man myself. Speaking of which-” He pulled out his wallet. “How much for the job?”
“We ain’t finished with it yet.”
“Okay. No problem, but if you wouldn’t mind -”
“Well, there ain’t no rush now, is there?”
Face spun around. Senior had appeared from the back door of the shack, his hands laden with a shotgun. “Should’ve minded yersel’, son.” He walked down the steps, and shook his head and sighed. “I’m getting’ too old for this hooey.” He looked over at Junior and Charlie. “Well, get the tarpaulin and shovels out, boys. We ain’t got all day.”
Face bolted.
Pushing Charlie out of his way, he hurtled across the yard, shouts and cries ringing out behind him. A shot exploded in the ground next to his feet, and a piece of flying shrapnel almost took his eye out. With a yell, he sped up. Another shot rang out.
“Don’t kill him, boss!”
Careening around the side of the shack, Face sprinted along the overgrown path. He burst out onto the yard. In front of him, the ‘vette glinted in the evening sun, but Face ran straight past it, heading for the pickup truck.
He was almost there! Almost there! With a last burst of speed, he leapt forward, reached out his hand and -
A heavy weight smashed into his body. His breath exploding out of his lungs, Face sprawled across the ground, the world spinning and hurtling upside down in a sickening whirlwind of bright colours.
“Did ya catch him? Did ya catch him?!”
A hand clamped around Face’s arm, and he was dragged up off the ground.
“Got the little rabbit, boss!” The hand shook Face, and he took in a breath. Then biting back a wave of nausea, he straightened up, and flung back his elbow. There was a sharp crack, and a curse, but in the next instant, Face was spun around. “You asshole!” It was all the warning he got, before Charlie’s fist came flying towards him. His head snapped back, and he felt a sudden warm trickle of blood, as he bit through his lip. He stumbled backwards, but even as he attempted to right himself, a boot caught him in the back of his knee, and he fell to the ground in a tumble of limbs.
“Stay down, blondie, if ya know what’s good for ya!”
The barrel of the shotgun dug into his shoulder, and even dazed as he was, Face had clarity enough to know it was probably wise to do as he was told. For now.
“So, he found the Porsche, did he?” Senior’s voice was an irritated sneer. “I told y’all to break it into parts. Didn’t I tell ya?”
“Weren’t our fault, pa. Didn’t know anyone’d see it, did we?”
Prodding at his swollen lip, Face sat up gingerly, sighing in relief as the world righted itself once again. He looked up at the three men gathered around him. He wondered how quickly he could spring to his feet, how quickly they’d react. The pick-up truck was just feet away. He tensed, slowly bracing his hands on the ground.
“Don’t even think about it, pretty boy.” Senior pressed the barrel into Face’s shoulder more firmly. “Not unless ya want to be blown clean apart.”
Face froze.
“What we gonna do with him, pa?”
“What we did with the other, I guess. But we’ll try and make it less messy this time.”
Junior sniggered, but beside him, Charlie frowned. “Can’t we have a bit of fun first though, boss?” He leered openly at Face. “Just a little bit?”
“The longer we keep ‘im alive, the more risky it is,” Senior said. But then he shrugged. “But I guess it don’t mean we can’t delay it a bit,” he added, magnanimously.
Charlie’s face lit up.
“Watcha have in mind, Charlie?” Junior scratched his ear. “It’d better be somethin’ we can all enjoy.”
Face’s heart thudded in his chest, as he stared up at the tall man.
“No way. I ain’t sharing. Boss?”
“Ya heard Junior. Fair’s fair. So none of that, Charlie.”
Face attempted to hide the tremble in his limbs, as a wave of desperate relief washed over him.
Charlie swore, but then he brightened up. “Well, what about that other thing, boss?”
“What other thing?”
“You know, that other thing? We ain’t done it since we was bubbas.” Charlie’s voice grew excited, as he warmed to his idea. “And blondie here's a regular rabbit. It's perfect. What about it, boss?”
Face had no idea what they were talking about, but going by the sudden excited chatter above his head, he knew he wouldn’t like it.
“I mean, that's got potential, I can't deny it." Senior held up a hand at the younger men's grins. "Now I ain’t sayin’ no, but we can’t just rush into it – not if we wanna do it proper.”
“Who’s rushin’? Anyway, there ain’t much to get done, pa.” Junior clapped his hands together. “We could be ready in an hour. ‘Sides, it’s a full moon tonight!”
“Nah. If we’re doin’ this, we ain’t doin’ it at night. Y’all out of practice. I don’t wanna lose ‘im in the dark.”
“First light, then? In the forest?”
Slowly and methodically, Senior pulled out a pouch from an overstretched pocket, and plucking out a bundle of dark, matted leaves from it, he stuffed them into his mouth. He studied Face, the sodden mess squelching between his teeth. “That could work, boys. That could work.”
“Man, first a Corvette and now a hunt! We ain’t had a day this good in ages!"
His ogling eyes leaving Face’s, Charlie reached over and prodded Junior. “There ain’t gonna be no Corvette, idiot, cos I’m takin’ it apart.”
“The blond or the car?” And Junior snorted at his own joke.
Charlie rolled his eyes. “Laugh it up.” He spat on the ground. “But that Corvette’s gotta be taken to pieces. It’s too ‘spicuous. ‘sides, its parts are worth a cent or two.”
“Aw, come on, Charlie,” Junior whined. “What about a ride? Just one? We could drive it down to Denny’s and back.”
Denny’s? Face blanched. Had he been that close?
Charlie swatted at a fly, and shook his head. “Nope.”
“He’s right.”
The three men looked down at Face.
“What?”
“I said, he’s right.” Face smiled up at Junior, putting every ounce of patronising dismissiveness into his voice as he could manage. “You couldn’t handle a car like that.” He turned to look at Charlie. “Neither of you could. Get it to Denny’s? You couldn’t get it down the driveway.”
Face thought that it was getting to be pretty embarrassing the way he hadn’t managed to evade a single punch this evening. He’d almost be relieved the others weren’t here to see it, if he didn’t desperately wish that they were. Rubbing a hand across his smarting cheek, he spat out the blood filling his mouth. “Like I said,” he croaked to Charlie, as the man drew back his fist, “you couldn’t drive it.”
Charlie wiped a hand across his lips. “You know, if you wasn’t so pretty, I wouldn’t hold back none.” He looked across at Junior. “We’ll take the car to Denny’s tonight. Then we’ll break it up.” Junior whooped, and Face tried not to let the relief show on his face. It might be a nothing of a chance, but it was something.
“Okay, boys. Enough jabberin’.” Senior pushed a podgy finger into Face’s shoulder. “Lock this one up in the basement. Tie him up too. Nice an’ tight. I don’t want ‘im gettin’ out. Then get workin’ on the Porsche, boys. It’s gettin’ to be too hot to handle.”
“You got it, boss.”
“On it, pa.”
Senior spat a glob of the tobacco out, and it landed in a sodden mess of saliva and leaves at Face’s feet. “Get up, boy, and don’t try nothin’. You do and I’ll lock you up with the dog. Got it?”
Face nodded, and then covered by the rifle and shotgun, he was pushed up the steps of the porch.
“Charlie, grab ‘im a cup of water and those leftovers from breakfast. Gotta make sure he’s got some energy for tomorrow.” Senior smirked, and prodded the barrel of the shotgun into Face’s back. “Now move quicker, boy.” The blond man stumbled into the screen door at the back of the porch, and Junior cackled.
“We’re gonna have so much fun with this one, Pa, ain’t we?”
“We surely are, son, we surely are."
And Face said nothing, as the door was opened in front of him, and he was pushed into the dark shadows of the shack.