Chapter 4

Bobby stood by the gate, staring at the pancakes and water where Hagen had placed them on the floor. "All right, look, what do we have to do to get that stuff?" he asked. Alex frowned behind him.

Hagen gave him a slow smile. "If you want to eat, you do it all."

"You don't know us from Adam," Alex said. "How do you know he's even… capable? He might have a medical problem or something. What if he can't get it up?"

"I have some little blue pills, if you need them."

Goren listened to Hagen, but then spun and almost looked at Eames. "There's nothing wrong with me, Eames."

"No, Bobby, there is… because you keep offering to make deals with this guy."

Bobby shook his head and turned back. "You heard her," he said. "Going all the way is still out. Now, what else can we do?"

Hagen closed up the pancake box and dropped it onto the chair. He walked back to Goren. He picked up the jug of water and held it before the larger man. "Water. A whole cup full this time." Hagen looked him over, then looked Eames up and down. "All you have to do is get naked."

Bobby looked over at his partner, who was seething. He cocked his head and shut his eyes briefly, turning back. "It's too cold in here for that. It's too cold at night. One blanket won't cut it."

The eyes of their captor sparkled. "You get naked, you get a cup of water. She gets naked, you get another blanket."

Bobby chewed on his bottom lip as he mulled it over.

"What kind of blanket?" Alex asked from three paces behind him. "Another thin as shit blanket like this one? Or something really helpful like a sleeping bag?"

Hagen smiled. He left them for a moment to open the back of the van.

"Look, you don't have to," Bobby told her.

"It may be time to put that plan into play," she whispered to him, and he nodded.

Hagen returned with a large comforter, slightly dirty, but much warmer than the blanket he'd given them the night before. He set it on the floor by the gate.

Without another word, Bobby started to strip.

"Goren!" Eames cried.

"We need… water, Eames. We'll die of dehydration without it."

He peeled the last of his clothing off, dropping it onto the little pile at his feet.

Hagen smiled. "Now pick up your clothes," the old man ordered.

Bobby scooped them up in a ball in his arms.

"Carry them over there," Hagen said, pointing to their latrine corner.

With a frown, Bobby carried them over. It was disgusting, and though it was necessary, both he and Alex had taken great pains to avoid that area.

"Drop your clothes on top of that… little pile," he ordered.

His lips became an angry line, and Bobby looked over at his partner, then back at their captor, and then at the water jug. He dropped his clothes onto the floor.

"Now step on it," Hagen said, "Smear it around, soak it up."

Bobby found his shoes first, and put them on. Then he rubbed his clothing thoroughly in the waste.

Finally, he stepped off the mess and peeled his shoes back off his feet, leaving them there.

He turned back to Hagen, who had a sadistic grin on his face. "I'll go get you a cup!" He cried cheerfully, and hurried back to the van.

Bobby covered himself with his hands and turned to face Eames. By the time Hagen came back, she was already stripping out of her clothes. He cackled with glee.

"Eames, don't, you don't need to—" Bobby said angrily.

"You'll die of exposure without that blanket," she said simply. She took off the last of her clothes and covered herself with her hands as best she could.

Hagen smiled and motioned toward the corner. "Yours too," he said. Goren picked them up for her and took them to the corner. This time, the man didn't order him to step on them. The other clothes had absorbed most of the filth already.

"All right, we had a deal!" Goren shouted angrily. "Water, and a blanket!"

Hagen poured the water into a plastic cup, filling it to the brim. He set the cup on the floor near the gate, and moved the comforter slightly, too, allowing himself room to open and close the thing quickly. Then he went back to retrieve the gun from the truck.

Again, he held the gun on Eames. "Step to the back," he demanded.

Both Bobby and Alex moved backwards.

"Turn around," Hagen said.

They turned to face the wall once more. They heard the jangle of the keys, and Bobby whispered "This is it."

One Mississippi. Bobby hooked his right foot behind his left slightly, ready to spin.

Two Mississippi. He put his hands against the wall to push off in a hurry.

Three Mississippi. Alex dropped just as the gate unlatched. Bobby pushed and spun and ran full force at the old man.

The gun went off, shattering the layers of plaster on the back wall. It went off again, and there was a whining sound as the bullet ricocheted and disappeared.

Bobby wrestled with the old man just outside the gate, but he tripped over the comforter and fell back.

Alex was on her feet now, the gun leveled at her bare chest. She stopped in her tracks.

Brad Hagen was breathing hard. "You get back in there, or I'll kill her," he told Goren, who slowly inched back into the cell, dragging the comforter with him.

"All the way back," Hagen told them both.

Bobby got to his feet. He and Alex walked backwards until they bumped the back wall.

"Turn around."

Again, they faced the wall.

The old man slid what was left of the glass of water into the cell and closed the gate with a slam. Then he busied himself with the camera, took the food and water, and left.

"Damn it!" Bobby shouted, and his voice echoed throughout the barren shop.

"Here," Alex said, handing him the lighter blanket. She had already covered herself with the comforter. "Are you hurt?" She asked him as he wound the blanket around his waist.

"No, I don't think so." Bobby looked down at the ground. "He's stronger than he looks."

"I'll bet he doesn't have COPD, either."

"I think that's a given," Bobby agreed.

They went to the cleanest spot in the room, and sat down on the floor, adjusting the blankets to cover themselves.

"I can probably get at least some of your clothes, they're probably okay," Bobby told her, staring at the back corner.

"Yeah, that's a good idea," she said. She would have gotten them herself, but with the larger blanket, it was harder to manage and still keep herself covered. Bobby got up and carefully rummaged through the pile, only removing the items that were still clean and dry.

He handed her a pair of underwear, her tank undershirt, and one sock. She inspected each item closely, and he turned his head while she put them on.

"Feels weird to wear one sock."

"Every little bit counts," he said, settling in on the floor beside her. Bobby scoffed and shook his head. "Well, this was a major fuck up."

She reached out her hand and massaged his neck. "It was worth a try," she told him.

Suddenly, Bobby remembered the water. He got back up and picked it up off the floor. "Only half," he said, and he saw the puddle on the other side of the gate. "It spilled."

"Nice of him to give it to us anyway," she said.

Bobby brought her the cup and put it in her hand. Alex took a small drink, and handed it back. He gave it to her again. "You drink half, and I'll drink half," he said.

Soon the cup was empty. Alex left the comforter behind and carried the cup over near the latrine. She left it there and walked back.

Bobby averted his eyes. She was covered now, but he could still see how her nipples stood erect under her thin shirt. Even without looking, he could feel his body's response. He made sure the blanket was covering him and squirmed in place.

"I didn't mean anything when I asked that whole 'what if' question."

Bobby looked up into her eyes, and then smiled. "I know, I know," he said.

Alex gave him a grin. "I know you don't have any trouble… getting it up," she whispered, turning her back to the camera.

"Not when you're around," he muttered so quietly she'd never hear. She sat down beside him and threw the comforter over them both. They leaned their backs against the cold wall and sat shoulder to shoulder, pondering what new hell they would face next.