Recap: The Rangeman team digs up Stephanie and Ramirez, putting them into the SUV wrapped up. Tank and Ranger head back to Trenton while Lester and Bobby stay to clean up.
Ranger
I woke after nowhere near enough sleep as the SUV stopped at a traffic light. My muscles were stiff and aching, though nowhere near as bad as it would be soon. Even for me, I had driven myself hard the past 2 days.
"How long until sunset?" I asked Tank.
"About 90 minutes, and we're 10 minutes from the office. You want to grab some coffee?"
"God, yes." I felt better after a little sleep, but caffeine would help a lot. "You go in, I'll stay and guard the car." And the bundle of what was essentially two bodies.
Tank
I pulled into the nearest Wawa, planning on getting the biggest coffees they sold. While there I noticed a new display, and picked up something I'd never bought before.
The cashier gave me a slight look of fear, and a glance outside confirmed it was still daylight as I picked up a variety 6-pack of Tru Blood.
Ranger
I was endlessly thankful that we had already installed the underground parking garage mechanisms, and that the infirmary was fully stocked. Moving the two of them was a lot easier with a gurney and the elevator in a closed garage than it had been to get them into the SUV in the first place.
"Should we separate them yet?" Tank asked as we pushed the gurney into the lowest levels, the ones with the safe rooms.
I hesitated and glanced at my watch. 63 minutes to sundown. "Not quite yet, but we have to do it soon. I can't imagine the trauma of her waking up next to that monster." And he was more of a monster than we had known at the time. But the guilt was something to push back, to deal with later. "Let's get the rooms ready."
Luckily the holding cells had been built to withstand a bomb blast. I didn't want to put Stephanie in one of them. But I also didn't know what she would be like when she woke up. So we moved the bed, nightstand, and lamp from one of the guest rooms and put it in the cell, leaving the Tru Blood next to the bed so she could access it. There wasn't a lot to make it more homey, but at least we had sheets and a pillow to make it seem less like the prison it unfortunately was. I also realized I am a terrible interior decorator. The place still looked bleak. Not as bleak as the cell Ramirez would be rotting in, but still pretty bad.
With 20 minutes to go, we took the curtain off them. My heart broke at seeing his arms around her. There was more light in the hallway than there had been in the tent when we were digging. Her expression was one of fear, and there was blood caked on her mouth. I gently lifted her up off the gurney, then carried her into the more hospital of the prison cells. I took comfort in the fact that while her body was cold, it wasn't as stiff as one going through rigor mortis would be. That was probably a good sign.
Then I closed and locked the door, opening the viewing window so we could see in. Ramirez we dumped like so much trash on the floor of his cell, then repeated the locking procedure.
"Remind me why we aren't killing him now?" Tank asked.
"We don't know what that will do to Stephanie. And we might need him for information."
"Fair. What do we do now?"
"Now we wait." I looked at my watch. "10 minutes."
10 minutes and 30 seconds later, Ramirez started to yell, cursing in English and Spanish, asking where the hell he was, and where that puta bitch was. 30 seconds after that, Stephanie started screaming. First in fear, and then in pain.
