He fumbled with the lock, realizing that his hands felt like they hadswollen a thousand times usual size and were near impossible to useon the lock. He quickly dropped it to the ground, and fumbled withthe latch, managing to pull it open, just barely. A flashlightemerged from his side pocket, a Maglite Solitaire, and the beam cutthrough the darkness of the shed. A cot, empty, something that looked like a nightgown laid across itdelicately. He directed the beam across the room. Another cot, andthis time there was a girl curled up in the corner, her kneesdefensively drawn to her chest, shoulders heaving in near-silent,hysterical gasps. A copper canopy was draped over her shoulders; twinblue stars, shining bright stared desperately out at him. “Bev,” Jim said. “It’s me.” He shone the light on his face,nearly blinding him for a split second. Her face poked out, slender and drawn with worry. She stood soquickly that he wasn’t sure that he’d actually seen her do it.She moved across the floor in a blur, running to him, grabbing himaround the neck. “I didn’t think you’d come. I thought you’d…” “No.” He said. “We’re getting out of here.” She let go and he clicked off the light, making it easier forstealth, and led her out the door, her steps were soft and carefulwith her feet clad only in flip-flops. She tried to keep thattelltale flapping down, but it was near impossible, and Jim wasconvinced, inaudible to the two inside. “They hear everything.” She insisted. The night swallowed them whole. He suddenly felt the darkness,thankful for it, but still wary, feeling as if he were being watchedby it. As if the night itself, while being the only way he could haveever accomplished such a feat, was plotting against him. </ol>
It was about that time when he heard the coarse whisper of a slidingdoor and the terrible metallic chuckle of a shotgun being chambered. The blast of plastic and glass was almost immediate, and it broughthim and Beverly both down to the ground immediately. The bin that hadtaken a majority of the hit had been completely destroyed, shards ofit were in every direction, scattered with the cruel relentlessnessof twelve-gauge buckshot. “Stay down.” He whispered to Beverly. The rasp and clatter of an empty shell hitting the ground, followedby another mechanical chuckled of a load being shot into the chamberof the gun. An explosion rocked the backyard again, and the splintersof plastic rained down again. Jim reached into his pocket and grabbed the LC9, raising it high, andsqueezing off three rounds in quick succession, hoping it would scarethe shotgun wielding guard, knowing that it was near impossible forhim to aim correctly from the distance and in the dark. He hadn’tfired the gun in a few years, so he was way out of practice. Another shotgun blast and more plastic rain, eliciting a thin yelpfrom Beverly, who ducked low again. Jim fired off a one more shot, the fear deep down within him that hewas almost out of ammo. No extra magazines. He hadn’t brought the extra he owned.He reached around for his waistband, where the knife was, but wasdisappointed—the knife was gone, probably on the ground somewherewhen he had dived for the ground.“We’re closed!” Bram said, the shotgun chuckled again, “AndI’m afraid we don’t make any late night exceptions.” Jim squeezed off another round; he heard it hit the concrete,splintering it, sending bits and pieces in all directions. </ol>
“You’re getting warmer. I’m surprised, Jim, how long has itbeen since you fired a gun, anyway?” “Not recently.” Jim replied, motioning for Beverly to make a dashfor it, but she shook her head. “I haven’t had any freaks likeyou to shoot at. Takes all the fun out of it.” A shotgun blast closed the line of discussion. Jim took a few more shots, and was quickly disappointed by theterrible squishing click that met his ears, he was out—and therewere no more bullets. The firefight was over almost as quickly as it had begun, and therewas an obvious advantage that Bram had over them. He didn’t fireback, however. What met Jim’s ears instead was laughing, cruel andfull laughter. It was like someone had just told the world’sfunniest joke, only the joke was on he and Beverly. “Looks like you’re up a creek without a paddle there, Jimmy!”He chambered yet another round—the one that had to be his last—andbegan to walk down the steps in the near pitch-black night. Jim turned to Beverly, sighed. “I’m sorry.” She shook her head. “Not over yet.” She whispered. Jim glanced down at the empty gun in his hand, and he dropped it tothe ground, tossing it so that Bram could see he did not have it anylonger, and hopefully keeping him from shooting them too quickly. Bram walked towards them. “You two better stand up.” He said, theboots he wore crunching the sand underfoot. “I know there’s acouple of you.” Beverly tapped him on the shoulder, and nodded, squeezing hisshoulder with her small hand. <I>Thanks for trying</I>, it said. </ol>
Jim stood with Beverly at the same time, raising his hands for amoment to show that he was unarmed, and then dropped them by hissides. They were empty, depressingly so. He was out of things that hecould do. “Well, Jimmy. Nice to see you, albeit, at this late hour.” Bram’stone was unmistakably mocking. Condescending, and even hateful, hetook a look at Beverly, in the dim light, chuckled. “Well, well. AmI interrupting something here? Seriously, Jim, if you just wouldasaid that you wanted her she could have been yours for the rightprice…” “She’s not for sale, anymore.” Jim said. “Everything’s for sale.” Bram countered. “Ask anyone,everything’s for sale. Morality, purity, even innocence—all yougotta do is name a price.” He held the gun at chest level, pointeddirectly at Jim. “Some come cheaper than others, but everyone has aprice.” “Not everyone.” Bram laughed again, that sick, full laugh. He looked at Jim and burstinto another fit of it. “You’re kidding. Have you looked aroundlately, Jimbo? How many kids do you suppose have tried drugs? Howmany do you suppose haven’t messed around and slept with eachother, stolen something—all for a moment of pleasure, a littlethrill? For some, that’s all of the price they need.” He lookedat Beverly and then cut his eyes back to Jim, that cruel smile on hisface. “Some girls will let their boyfriends take it to the nextlevel all because they’ll ‘love them forever.’ Other kids,they’ll do some pot because everyone else does, the price foracceptance and they’re willing to pay. Seriously, Jim, have youeven been paying attention?” Jim was silent. The darkness was still surrounding them. The shotgunbarrel was bright in the light, limited though it was, reflectingacross the silvery surface. Jim could see the way it was held sosteadily in Bram’s hands, like a toy. “Come over to the carport. We’ll chat over here.” He gesturedwith the shotgun to signal that this wasn’t optional. </ol>
Jim looked at Beverly, and she nodded, moving slowly, with him, herhands on his forearm. She wasn’t squeezing, it was more like alight touch, the calm assurance of a loved one after a bad dream inthe middle of the night. They walked slowly and ever so carefully, trying not to make anyquick movements that would give Bram a good excuse to shoot them onthe spot. He stopped and they did the same. Daring not to move any farther, thethreat of hot lead enough to make them stop. “So,” Bram asked, “to what do I owe the pleasure of thisvisit?” Jim said nothing. Bram smiled, and gestured—with the gun—to Beverly. “Lemmeguess.” “She’s not for sale. She’s not a sale item, Bram, you’ve lostyour mind.” “That requires having one in the first place, Jim. But I assure youthat I am perfectly sane, in fact, I have the experience of yearsover you on my side, so not only am I sane, but full of wisdom aswell.” “Just how many years would that be, Bram? Decades? Hundreds?” Bram remained silent. “I know what you are. I know what you and Linda both are. I guess Iknew since the first time I saw you, I just didn’t want to believeit. Sometimes we like to try the think the best of people, silly howpeople are, I guess.” Bram smiled again, “Time to pay up, Jimbo. Got news for you, she’sstolen property. You gotta pay us back for her.” Jim moved in front of Beverly. “She’s not for sale. She’s aperson, not a piece of merchandise.” </ol>
Bram ignored him. “We have had a hard time selling her, because sheis worth so much. In fact, she’s worth more than you couldpay—ever. So, we’re going to have to charge you the same, Jimmy.And I’m afraid that if you can’t pay that up front, then we’llhave to put you on the payment plan option. Or, we’ll just savetime and take you, right here.” Jim nodded. “If she goes free.” Bram shook his head. “You’re really dense, aren’t you?” “Then no deal.” “Really?” Bram laughed again. He dropped the barrel, pointing itat the ground. “I really hate to break it to you, Jim, but you’renot in a negotiating position here. You do what we say or you don’tlive to reconsider.” “I don’t come quite so cheap, Bram.” The gun was raised, pointed at his head. “How’s your life?” Heasked, raising an eyebrow. “Can’t threaten me with death. I know what’s waiting for me onthe others side. I think you do, too, don’t you?” Bram nodded, gave an approving expression. “Fine.” He shifted thebarrel’s position. “How about hers?” Jim stopped. He had no reply, and Bram knew that he had him; he hadhim pinned to the wall. There wasn’t any reply that he had forthat, and he knew that Bram knew that. Bram grinned. “You know, she’s damaged goods. I might have tolower the price on her. How about for her, we take just you? She getsto go wherever she wants. I just want you.” “I can’t make a deal, Bram.” An eyebrow rose. </ol>