Summer
Chapter 3- A Boy Named Sue
It was a cool morning in the shining metropolis. The sun was still rising as more and more clouds filled the sky. Anyone could see darker and heavier clouds being pushed along with a damp wind as thunder, lightning, and rain could be heard in the distance. Clearly a storm was well on its way.
Down below in a humble, if special neighborhood, was a small home. In one of the bedrooms Scott rubbed his eyes as he groaned before he rolled over onto his side. Scott was startled when he felt something small and soft pat him on the nose. Opening his eyes he found a small black cat standing in front of him, its deep blue eyes staring back up at him on the floor. Scott blew the over grown rat a raspberry. The cat returned a simple meow before turning around and walking toward the open door, but not before slapping its long tail against the lad's face, targeting his eyes.
Scott instantly rolled over onto his back, rubbing his eyes from the outright pain. Scott stopped himself when he heard a crunching bending sound under him and a pain in his back. Opening his eyes slowly, Scott pulled out the cause and found it was a small blue beer can. It was empty and crumpled up with a few drops leaking out from the top.
Looking around, Scott found that the floor was littered with more crumpled up beer cans. Not only that, but Scott found he was naked from the waist down with only his work boots on, though his pants were in sight. As was the same black cat standing in the hall just outside the door, a beer can laying next to it. The cat's deep blue eyes giving him the same blank stink eye. The cat gave another meow before stomping onto the can, creating a loud crumpling sound.
Before Scott knew it he heard light groaning above him to his left. Looking up Scott saw a bed, with a slender pale arm slide out and hanging off to the side right up until the elbow. The confused lad looked back and found the cat was gone. With a headache and hangover making itself known and raging with a vengeance, Scott looked around the room he was in one more time before whispering himself a question.
"Where am I?"
Holding his hand on the dresser for support, Scott forced himself to stand. The banging hangover made his head feel like he just got catapulted off a roller coaster into an oncoming truck. His eyes still blurry, Scott slapped himself with his other hand to focus. Luckily enough it worked.
Looking to his side, Scott found in the bed was a beautiful blonde girl sleeping soundly and peacefully. Instantly, Scott looked down and to his relief, he was indeed wearing a condom. Sighing in delight, Scott looked again at the girl. The girl had beautiful if a bit frazzled shoulder-length platinum blonde hair. She was laying naked on her front, blankets down by her feat, with her face facing him. Scott could see that while the girl was on the small and lean side, she had some curves.
Scott nodded as he smirked at the girl laying peacefully in front of him. Pride and joy beaming in his chest, though it was offset a bit by the hangover he was dealing with. Looking at the floor, Scott could see there weren't that many beer cans scattered around with the girls red skirt and top from the night before. If he could count right now, Scott had to guess it was enough for a six-pack.
"We had to'ave drunk more than this." Scott shrugged, embarrassment in his voice. "Who is this girl?"
Looking again, Scott found that at the side of the bed was some tape with writing on it. Scott's eyes were too blurred to read it though. He found that it was also a bunk bed with another cot resting on top of the bunk the girl was sleeping in. Though, thankfully there wasn't anyone in it. Stumbling his way over to his pants, Scott pulled off the condom and tossed it into the waste basket as he put on his jeans.
Adjusting his belt, Scott could see that there were colorful marked boxes and bags stacked on top of each other next to the bunk bed. His senses and sight returning to him, Scott could see that the rest of the room was barren and clean. The message was clear, the girl just moved in.
Taking care not to step on any of the noisy cans, Scott smiled as he went to the boxes. Unfortunately for the thief, the open boxes and bags were filled with little more than clothes and useless nick-nacks. Hardly worth the trouble of stealing. But then he saw it. At the bottom corner of a duffel bag, Scott pulled out a small wooden box. The box was old, wonderfully decorated and carved with symbols and designs he didn't recognize with a tiny black iron lock at the front.
Shaking it as lightly as he could, at the very least Scott heard the sound of enough coins to make it worth it. Along with a few larger prizes inside with them. Nodding, Scott turned for the door, only to be stopped dead in his tracks as he heard the girl stir in the bed. Looking, Scott found that she simply yawned and was still sound asleep. Sighing in relief again, Scott silently pulled the blankets up from her feet completely over her.
"Great night. Even better morning."
Scott whispered as he walked out the door, closing it quietly, locked box in hand. His hangover still raging in his head and his vision still a little blurry, Scott leaned against the hallway wall for support as he headed toward the natural daylight. When he made it, Scott found it was a window in a door leading to the outside world. Finding the knob, Scott opened the door and stepped to freedom, on his second step Scott's leg smacked against something hard with a loud clang and sent the thief falling face first.
To Scott's own surprise, instead of falling on cold hard asphalt or cement he fell into warm soft water. Quickly standing up in the knee deep water, the thief wiped his eyes clear and found he was in the shallows of the city's lake. In front of him, Scott saw a small green field with a hill just behind it. Turning back around, Scott saw that the girl's home was actually a boat, a house boat.
The boat house looked like a couple of mobile homes seamlessly connected together on pontoons. Towards the front there was an empty deck overseeing the lake with several lawn chairs facing outwards onto the surface of the water, the same black cat from before sleeping in one of them. Above on the roof was a number of solar panels, covering at least half of the top deck. The houseboat itself was painted a bright red with the word 'Ariel' written in bright gold to its side.
What kept the floating home from drifting off was a sturdy if worn line attached from both ends to a wooden post on the field just beyond the lake. Looking to his side, his eyes now focused, Scott could see that maybe a mile down the shoreline was one of the public swimming areas of the lake and a large park behind it. In the public area was a house with a balcony built into the man made hill, its pillars stretching down into the sands of the beach with people going in and out of it.
"Huh, what did I do last night?"
Scott wondered as he slumped out of the shallow water and made his way up the hill. Making it to the top, Scott saw a road and the buildings of the city behind it. Scott sighed in relief, but before he could take a step he heard mumbling to his side. Turning to the noise, Scott saw that further down the shoreline from where he was before was some guy in a moss green robe and a patched up cap with some fake fuzz hanging off his face standing a few feet in the shallows of the lake.
Squinting, Scott could see the strange man pull out what looked like a book from the inside of his robe and a stick from one of his sleeves. While Scott couldn't make out any words the robed man was saying, he could see the weirdo flip through the book as he waved the stick into the air.
"Nutjob."
Scott shrugged as turned back to the road, but stopped himself when he heard cheering. Looking back down, Scott could see the weirdo jumping for joy with a large smile on his face as he stared down at the water. Squinting again, the hungover thief saw some movement in the shallows just beyond where the robed man was standing. Though Scott couldn't make out what was causing it.
Suddenly half a dozen fish jumped out of the shallow water and pounced on the robed man. Most bounced off but a few managed to bite onto the robe. Either way, the weirdo was caught off guard and fell backwards into the lake where even more fish jumped out and pounced on him. The robed man quickly jumped out of the lake and on land, fish still jumping for him, before running off into the field soaking wet with a few of the fish still holding onto his robe by their teeth.
"What did I drink last night?"
XXXXXXXXXX
Like everything in the city that's on a tourists bingo card, the historical district was attached to the lake. The name itself for the district was actually taken from the native tribes that lived at the lake when the old world European settlers finally made it far enough in-land to meet them. Specifically when the colonists asked the locals about the lake.
The answer the settlers received actually made no sense in either the local native language or in English when it was finally translated long after it already made official. Something like swimming bear or crazy cod. Historians claim that when the original settlers asked the tribes, the locals didn't understand and just winged it. Kinda like when settlers asked the natives in Australia about the man sized hopping animal with a pocket on its gut.
Inside of said lake was a series of old wooden sail boats secured heavily to a number of specialized docks. Each one of the boats were old, some more than others. Each with a different design and purpose. A podium with a small bronze plaque stood in front of them explaining their history.
Next to the exhibit fleet, just down the lake were rows and rows of poles hammered into the ground with buoys floating next to them. The poles were attached by ropes. Each one tied to a plastique cage just under the surface in the murky grey water. This of course was the city's famous original oyster farm. At it least said so on the plaque. The city itself had more than a few oyster farms, but this was the only oyster farm still found in the lake itself.
Outside of the lake on the concrete walkway overseeing all of it were stands and gift shops set up in between a number of connected museums. The stands and shops themselves had faded, muted colors. Mostly shades of blue and grey. They all had overpriced assorted nick-knacks supposedly about the history of the city. Mostly about the original native tribes, the wildlife, shipping companies that turned the then middle of nowhere settlement into a place worth coming to. Though strangely enough, not one was selling oysters.
Just walking down the sidewalk, there were oodles and oodles of tourists from loners, some families, even groups in matching marked T-shirts and backpacks walking around. Scott's eyes darted back and forth as he looked for his target, keeping pace as he walked. Scott smiled as he found his mark. An older man in jean shorts, blue-striped polo shirt, and white headband was walking his way talking on his phone. As he passed, Scott reached into his pocket and pulled out an old worn leather wallet and slid it into his own as he went on his way. Scott smiled at his prize, doing his best not to look back to check if he was discovered.
"Hot dogs!" A large blond kid with a green Maple leaf hollered standing next to a portable food stand. The stand itself had a pig with a hot dog in its mouth. "Hot dogs. Come and get your hot dogs here. How about you, fine sir. Would you like a hot dog?"
"Hmmmm..." Scott smirked as he bent over and took a whiff of the cart. Standing up, Scott took out the wallet he just stole. "That's some great rat droppings you got. How long they been soaking, weeks?."
"Wha? Ewwww-I..." Owen trailed off, twiddling his fingers as his eyes flipped from side to side. Checking to see if anyone heard him. Scott's smirk only grew as he saw Owen pull the first couple of hot dogs from his cart's display and hand them to him. "Take these and go. Free of charge."
"Pleasure do'n blackmail with ya."
Easily scarfing down his prize, Scott looked at the building to his side. It was fairly large and made of old style blood red and brown bricks with a worn and faded teal tiled roof. In the wall itself next to the front door was a bronze plaque stating it was built in 1900. The only thing new about it was the glass revolving door. The sign above the door, read in faded bronze New Pearl History Museum.
Walking inside, Scott saw that aside from a few cased displays and assorted paintings nothing hid the exposed bricks that matched the outside. Above was a sun roof that filled the Museum with light, even if it was a forecast sky.
In front of him, Scott found a tour group consisting of a bunch of kids with at least one parent each. All with matching marked and colored T-shirts. Though there were a few stragglers who just joined the group. Two of which were a couple of twins in light blue hoodies. Scott ate the last of his hot dog as he walked up to the group.
"Now then everyone,"
The tour guide announced as she led everyone to the very middle of the room. In the center was a glass casing of a worn bronze statue. It was of a high class early 18th century man. He had a long ponytail that grew into his side burns and down into a beard that reached to his chest. The man himself was wrapped in an expensive looking double breasted suit for the time.
"This is Thomas Daniel Anderson. He was the founder and first mayor of our fair city. Originally a proud owner of a modest shipping company in the great lakes. But around the war of 1812-"
"Jay. Micky." Scott greeted his brothers as he walked up to the group, whispering so only his brothers would hear. Instantly, the two nearly jumped out of their skins from fright and surprise. Scott was prepared as he covered the twin's mouths before they could scream. Quickly the twins settled down when they saw him. "Easy jumpy. Come on, you're coming with me."
"Scott?" Jay asked as Scott pulled him and his twin brother away from the tour group. "Where are you taking us?"
"Papi said I had to watch you today." Scott explained as he let go of his twin brothers before turning a corner. "He didn't say that I had to be bored to death by being in this dumb tour group."
"But we already paid for it." Mickey explained, holding up his ticket stub. "And they don't give refunds."
"Of course they don't."
Scott sighed as he turned another corner, finding himself in a fairly busy food court of the museum. Looking around the number of fast food places between the usual sandwich shops, public buffets, and off brand Chinese food joints. Soon enough Scott smiled as he found his target. Sighing again, Scott dropped his smirk as he turned back to his brothers.
"Look I'm not happy about this either, but we're stuck together." Scott answered, letting go of his brother's hands. "I'm hungry so we're getting lunch."
"Ohhh, good idea. We're getting close to the red line, a bit longer we would have become hypoglycemic."
Micky whimpered as he looked at his watch. Scott could see that it had an emergency contact number imprinted at the side with a red cross as part of the design in the clock part of the watch. Several red zones were placed specific time periods, hours apart. Scott squinted when he saw his little brothers pull out a couple big energy bars from their hoody pockets, each with a red cross on the sides of the silver wrapping.
"Where do you wanna sit?"
"Nah-uh." Scott answered, grabbing the bars from his brothers. "They're for emergencies, and expensive. You're eating real food."
"B-but, we can't eat... here." Jay whimpered as he pointed to the nearest buffet. Specifically, the number of people who where using the same tongues and utensils for picking up the food. All before moving on to the garbage can next to the buffet that was clearly close to overflowing.
"Yeah. I remember what happened last time." Scott rolled his eyes before walking around his brothers and pointing them both to the far left. To the very edge of the food court. "So we're eating there."
Unlike the rest of the food court, which were really just a series of stands where people got to look under a glass plate and point out what they wanted on their tray. The restaurant Scott was pointing to was actually a room built into the building where people got to walk in. Outside the restaurant, was a large sign on top that read in bright gold Lost Treasure. Outside on the walls were a few black Jolly Rodgers with the famous skull and crossbones. A couple of open treasure chests but with clams and oysters instead of gold coins. There was even an old privateer mascot wearing buccaneer boots, puffy shirt, an eye patch, and of course a hook for a hand holding a hot dog being eaten by said mascot. There was even a word bubble that read 'shiver me taste buds'.
"Wha..."
"Come one guys." Scott creased, bending down so his head was between those of his brothers. "Of all the things you can't do, haven't you once thought of eating in a pirate themed restaurant?"
"Uhhhh, no." Micky slowly shook his head, with Jay nodding with him just as slowly. "Not really."
"Any time we think of a boat, we think about how they always rock from the left to right to left to-"
Jay's words became weaker and harder for him to pronounce, his face became a faded shade of green right up until he slapped a hand over his mouth and swallowed hard. Mickey wasn't so strong and actually ran to the nearest garbage can and all but jump into it before shrieking a large heaving sound. Of course the garbage can was the same one next to the buffet they pointed at earlier. So the crowd next to it let out cries of disgust before walking away.
"Ugggghhhh, you guys are killing me." Scott groaned as he walked over to his brother, pulling him out of the garbage can and patting his back. "Well its not a boat. Real place on land. Its real food and anything that cheesy has gotta to be cheep. So we're going."
"Okay."
Mickey wheezed, quivering for a moment before all three brothers walked over to the pirate restaurant. When the Low brothers did they instantly saw that the cheesy pirate decorations outside where just a tame add by comparison.
The interior walls looked like the hull of a ship with wooden beams reaching up from the ground to the ceiling. The support beams all had secured white sales. On the walls were adorned paintings and pictures of famous pirates and ships, or at least famous actors and sets of ships from movies. In-between them was the famous Jolly Rodger. The tables were arranged in a long row that made the place look like it was part of a large feeding galley.
The booths all looked like ships with a sign that numbered what dinghy they were. At said dingy booths, instead of a picture or Jolly Rodger was a plaque holding what looked like real treasure. Such as an old jewel encrusted silver or gold chalices. Small bowls filled with old shiny coins of the same type. Even a few plaques adorned on the wall with rusted and worn flintlocks and cutlasses. Looking to his side at the entrance, Scott saw two barrels. One filled with rolls of paper marked maps. The other was filled with wooden cutlasses marked swords.
"Hello ya'll."
Scott's head shot to his front and saw a girl standing in front of him. She had on the same outfit the pirate mascot outside of the restaurant was wearing only wearing a tricorne hat with a large feather sticking out along and a leather vest. Though the eye patch was missing.
"Welcome to the new Nassau galley. My name is Sugar. I'll be your waitress this afternoon. If you'll please fallow me I'll take you to your seat."
As Sugar guided them to one of the many dinghy booths, Scott took one last look around for his target but it was hard. There were so many nick-nacks and doo-dads Scott couldn't tell what was real and what was plastic. The thief sighed as he and his brothers took their seats in the boat looking booth.
"Here are the menus. I'll come by later for your order. Would you like any drinks?"
"Um, actually we have some questions about the food." Micky asked, flipping through the pages of the menu. "Me and my brother are allergic to milk, peanuts, and wheat."
"Double for eggs, soy, and shellfish." Jay continued, flipping through the laminated pages almost in a panic.
Scott rolled his eyes before looking over to the waitress in the ridiculous outfit. Scott could see that she was blonde and couldn't be any older than him. Not unlike the girl he woke up to earlier that morning. But he also saw that she was a bigger gal and probably weighed twice as much as he did. If the evidence of the waitress uniform barely holding itself together on her was anything to go by.
"My brothers are basket cases. They'll just have water and ah-" Scott shrugged as he opened the menu. Looking through the pages, each one was a laminated regular white page with the names of the meals with tiny pictures of the food next to them. All of which sounded like tortured puns and pirate themed. "Couple bowls of... dead man fingers. That, that just sounds-Hmmm, juicy."
"Thank you, sir." Sugar nodded, clear relief in her voice as she grabbed the menus. "They'll be ready soon."
Scott sighed as the waitress walked off, though he did notice how the buccaneer pants Sugar was wearing hugged the larger gal. Almost looking like tight striped leggings. Scott nodded, silently admiring how her behind and legs looked good in them as she walked away. Looking to the inside wall of the booth, Scott saw the treasure plaque for his dingy. It was an old golden chalice with a few rubies around the center. Touching it, Scott could tell it was real metal and jewels encased in some type of clear synthetic material keeping it in place.
Turning back to his brothers, Scott saw Jay counting his ECB's on his wrist while Mickey was having a slap fight with the air as he tried to hit a fly. All his swings about a mile off. Scott rolled his eyes as he quickly checked out all the plaqued treasure on the wall of the booths but couldn't see all of them from where he was sitting. The ones he could were not his target. He needed a better spot.
"Hey guys," Scott greeted before squishing the fly on the table with a loud slap, grabbing his brother's attention. "While we're waiting for our food, I think its time for your physical therapy for the day. Theme, hand-eye-coordination."
"But according to our schedule, we're supposed to be doing strength exercise today." Jay explained as he pulled out a small square piece of paper from his pocket and unfolding it, showing his older brother a calendar of the month. "Today is squats and crunches."
"Yeeeeah." Scott groaned annoyed as he grabbed the schedule out of Jay's hands before just shoving it into his pocket. "Today we're doing hand-eye stuff and I see the perfect way how to do it."
saw an old kiddie game at the far end of the restaurant
Looking to where their brother was pointing at, the adversity twins saw an old kiddie game at the far end of the restaurant. It was a large black board nailed to the floor with plastic hooks placed randomly on it. To its side were rows of differently colored rings filed onto a few cones.
"You guys go do that, I'll come get you when the food is ready." Scott ordered as he slid out of the booth, but saw his brothers sat where they were staring at each other. "Now."
Scott smiled as his brothers all but jumped out of the booth and practically ran to the other side of the restaurant. Walking over to the front entrance of the place, Scott went to one of the barrels and pulled out a couple of fake swords. Scott turned around to check out the place again, but stopped dead in his tracks when his eyes spotted the front of the service counter of the restaurant.
The service counter wouldn't look out of place in a regular diner. It was about chest high, stretched the length of the place, and had stainless steel stools bolted into the floor. What made it different was the black Jolly Rodger and other famous pirate flags decorating the entire side. That and the large wooden plaque with two rusted steel cutlasses hanging on nails and crossed under a fake skull right in front of the entrance.
"What's her face must'ah blocked it." Scott whispered, laughing under his breath as he walked up to the service counter. Scott did his best not to eyeball his target as he sat down on the nearest stool. His wooden cutlasses leaning against the counter and the plaque.
"Hi."
"WHOA!" Scott spat as he almost fell off his stool. Regaining his composure, Scott saw a small and skinny blond boy standing behind the service counter in an apron.
"S-sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. I have to stand on a box to talk to people back here." The kid answered as he pointed below him. Bending over the service counter, Scott could see the kid was right. He was indeed standing on a small wooden box just for his shoulders to reach the top of the counter.
"I-Its fine. Ever thought about getting an extendable chair or something."
"I asked about that, my dad said it doesn't look professional." The kid answered, pointing behind him through the service window showing the kitchen. In it, Scott saw an older man with faded blonde hair at the grill flipping what looked like beef patties. "My name's Dwayne Junior."
"But a kid stuck standing on a box to do his job is professional?" Scott sighed as he waved back to the kid. "What can you tell me about this place Junior? Are those... I-is that stuff real?"
"Those things on the plaques in each booth? A few years ago when I was little, my family went on vacation and found some old pirate booty when we snorkeled... Booty. "Junior laughed. "Anyway, we made a lot of money off'em selling to collectors. What we didn't want to sell we made it part of the place."
"Really?" Scott asked, rubbing his chin. "That's neat. You think that's why its here instead of like the boardwalk. It'd fit in just fine over there. But a museum? Sticks out like ah... ruby on a golden cup."
Junior shrugged as his answer, but before either knew it both were interrupted by the loud alarming sound of glass breaking. Scott tried to hide his smirk as he heard Junior gasp. Turning to his side, Scott saw that the kiddie game he sent his brothers to play with had some how been knocked back and smacked the window of the wall behind it.
"What happened!" The older man ran out from behind the kitchen to the back of the service counter and started padding against Junior's apron. His voice clear worry. "Junior, are you okay."
"I'm fine dad." Junior answered, pointing to the black board. "Its them."
"I-its okay." Jay announced, clear fear and embarrassment in his voice as he grabbed hold of the side of the black board. "We can fix this."
"W-we can d-d-do t-this." Micky stammered as he pulled a few of the hooks in the black board with all his might. The hooks quickly popped out of the black board and sent Micky falling hard to the ground. That wasn't all, apparently that was enough force to pull the black board from the wall and it came tumbling down over the fallen twin. Scott shrugged as he saw that the hooks kept the black board from crushing his brother. "Ohmygod! Ohmygod! Ohmygod!"
"Oh my gosh. Oh my gosh. Oh my gosh! Sugar, help me with this." Dwayne Sr. ordered as he jumped over the service counter. Scott was forced to back up when Dwayne Sr.'s foot got caught on the counter, tripping the fry cook, forcing him to land on his face. Dwayne quickly got back up and ran over to the twins, Sugar not far behind him.
"I'll get the first aid kit." Junior announced as he ran back into the kitchen area of the restaurant.
"You do that."
Scott grinned as he knelt down and took off his duffel bag. Scott slid off the rusted cutlasses from the plaque and replaced them with the wooden swords he swiped from the barrel. Quietly sliding his prizes into the bag, Scott silently walked out of the restaurant as Dwayne Sr. and Sugar lifted the black board off his brother.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
It was a cool dark night over the bright metropolis. It was hours after sunset, with dark and heavy clouds blacking out the stars and the moon this night. On a deserted back alley road leaving the city, the only source of light came from a bicycle head light as it raced down the black top.
On that bike was none other than Scott Low, the prizes of the day in the duffel bag on his back. His legs getting tired, Scott pulled his bike over to the side of the road. Scott turned off the bicycle light as he pulled out a pack of smokes from his pocket. Putting one in his mouth, Scott sighed in relief as he pulled out his lighter. As he took a breath a large van cruised past him on the road, paying him no mind.
As he put his lighter away Scott heard a screech. With just enough light to see the silhouette of the van, Scott saw the blocky vehicle twist and swerve on the empty road right up until it flipped over onto its side. The scream of the van's sheet metal against worn pavement of the road made the thief's heart stop. Finally the van stopped, laying diagonally on the road, no sound but the squeak of its spinning. The smell of burnt rubber filled the air.
The tense peace was shattered when a gun shot blasted off fallowed by one of the windows on the van cracking. Scott couldn't tell which one. The van rocked back and forth for a short bit, clear cries of a struggle were happening inside, fallowed by more gun shots. But then everything stopped. Nothing but another tense silence.
Suddenly, the back doors of the van were kicked wide open. In the near blank darkness, a dreaded silhouette of a very large and muscular man stepped out. While Scott couldn't see anything about this man, he could hear the sound of rackity chains clanking with every move he made.
Seeing all of this, Scott froze as perfectly still as he could. Every breath was as slow and quite as he could make it. All but begging that he be unnoticed and ignored by the silhouette. Instead, the silhouette froze. The clanking stopped as the shadowy form stood up tall and turned toward Scott. The silhouette stood still for a moment before it raised its arm to thief's side. Scott winced as a round was shot off, the bright flash of the gun erupting from the silhouette's hand, before it pointed directly at Scott. Scott's heart was beating a million miles a minute as he saw the silhouette walk toward him, the clanking of chains fallowed with every step, his arm still aiming at Scott's chest.
When he made it, Scott had just enough light to see him. The shadowy monster was a man. A prisoner if his bright orange inmate fatigues said anything. The prisoner's arms and legs were bound by a glistening chrome chain. His face was hard and angry. Made up of a thick Unibrow, a 5 o'clock shadow beard with a trim buzz cut for his black hair, and a scar running down his left cheek. But what really scared Scott, was the pistol aiming at his chest. Held in the prisoner's hand, his only hand. His other arm had only an empty stump.
Seeing all this Scott finally understood why the escapee found him. The light of the smoke in his mouth. Scott bit down hard on the filter, anger at himself boiling in his chest. The escapee smiled at Scott as he slid the pistol under his arm to steal the smoke and taking a puff.
Scott instantly took a break for it. By instinct alone, Scott whipped off the duffel bag and tossed it hard into the grassy pitch black ditch to his side as he kept on running. Scott stopped in his tracks as he heard gun shot go off and turned back around.
"Come back here." The prisoner ordered, the thief had no choice but to fallow. Stopping where he was standing before, Scott looked down and quivered when he saw the pistol pointing at his chest again. "You're pack is gone."
"W-wh-wha..." Scott's head shot up to where he heard the prisoner's voice. The light from the smoke was just enough to see his face as he gave a lop sided smile back down at Scott.
"I was shooting blind kid. Was it really worth risking your life for?"
Scott saw the inmate tilt his head at him. The thief could only bit his lip for an answer. Scott saw the prisoner shake his head before breaking the chains to his arms in a grunt then proceeding to shoot the chain connecting his ankles with his stolen pistol. Scott winced at this and fought the urge to run again as he saw the inmate stretch with his newfound freedom.
"That's better, now give me your phone." Scott heard the inmate order, the cigarette all but burnt out. Scott handed him his phone, and the prisoner dropped it on the ground and stomped on it hard."Good, now i want your smokes."
The thief only shrugged as he handed the prisoner his entire pack and lighter. The old cigarette officially out, the eldest Low brother could only hear ruffling sounds before he could see again as the new smoke was lit. With it, Scott could see that the pistol was slid under his stubbed arm and the pack of smokes in his free hand. At this sight, Scott knew that even without a weapon, through pure strength alone this man could kill him. Judging from how big he was, the inmate was at least a foot taller than him with an added hundred pounds of muscle.
"You're involved in something kid." The prisoner said, puffing his smoke at Scott. "I can see that. So here's some advice from an old vet. If you're gonna stay where you are, you better grow a pair of balls. Because if you can't talk when you're being threatened you won't last too long. Lucky for you I'm nice. I'm taking your bike."