Page 34 of Killer Bones

With the last bite of the burger chewed and swallowed, I wipe my fingers on one of the serviettes they supplied—this fancy food is beyond comprehension. Perhaps the chef hasn’t been told we are nothing special and that I am being readied for slaughter.

“Here.” The laptop arrives before me, slid across by this man I barely know and on whose kindness I’m relying.

A million underhand ideas arrive. A hundred, anyway. A plethora. Plethora is good. Practicing my writing skills in my mind is my way of normalizing this.

I could A. Send a message to the cops. B. To a friend. C. Post my plight on my website.

Basically, it would be lovely to yell that Montez is murdering me to the entire world. I just know this won’t be allowed.

“I suppose you won’t let me use this unsupervised?” I gift him my brightest, most innocent smile.

“Hell, no! So you can tell your mother you’ve been kidnapped?”

“And about to be dismembered and murdered?”

“Stop that. Worrying won’t help.”

“Will anything?”

He might if I can motivate him enough. Do I need to act like a car salesman or an evangelical preacher? Hallelujahs are not in my day-to-day vocab.

The laptop is in my hands and turned on. The cursor blinks at me. I’m so close to a solution. I glare at Adelmo. “If only I knew kung fu or something, I could do it.”

“After beating me up?” He tsks. “Anyway, they’re keeping an eye on anything I upload and send. Emails aren’t working, for one.”

Surely blocking the phone would be impossible? I’m not getting it off him though.

He pokes the side of the laptop. “Play, if you want to. Spend some time being happy, playing a mindless game.”

“Which one?” I scowl at the icons on the screen, barely able to think let alone see straight. It’s evening, and if I sleep again, I’ll wake on the day of my scheduled demise.

Demise sounds better than death, I think? As if it’s showier, less painful.

“Here.” He brushes aside my fingers and moves the cursor, turns on a game I immediately recognize.

“Fallout 4?”

“You mentioned it. I deliver.”

“You want me to play a violent game, which does actually have dismemberment, while I’m worried about torture and death?”

“Why not?”

I huff. Maybe he’s right, and maybe this is the way to this man’s heart, brain, or whichever part of him I need to convince. Cock, probably. Ha. He’s kinda sorta on my side, and I need him one hundred and ten percent here, next to me, cheering me on and killing the other guys.

It mightn’t be possible, but I’m going to try.

“You’re on. Highest score after an hour wins?”

“Wins what?” He sounds super skeptical.

“I don’t know.” I shrug. “A kiss the way you want to do it?”

“A kiss. Fine. Let’s do this. One other thing. While you were asleep, I spent an hour checking the room for cameras and listening devices, and there are none.”

“Really?” That lifts some of the tension from the air.

“Yes. I even faked choking and dying, and nobody rushed in. It’s safe to talk.”