Captives & Cattle Prods
“Where’s Grace?” I asked, leaning close to Robert’s face.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about?” he replied, “I don’t know anyone named Grace.”
I slapped him, rocking him back in the seat.
“Where is she? We need to find her, and you’re the last person that we know was with her.”
“I don’t-”
“I wouldn’t say you don’t know,” I said as I pulled my new cattle-prod out from the cabinet. “On second thought, please tell me you don’t know. I’ve been looking for a reason to use this. Gwen won’t test it on me, and won’t let me test it on her, so you’re the next viable candidate for it…”
“I-I don’t-”
I touched him with the end of it and pressed the button. The shock clicked loudly, and his whole body jolted sending him backward. The chair slammed to the floor.
“Shit,” I said as I stepped over him to see he had been knocked out, “Gwen’s going to be pissed.”
I touched his neck to make sure I hadn’t killed him. Thankfully there was a pulse. I set the prod down on the table and tried to lift him, but the chair slipped out of my hands and fell awkwardly back to the floor.
I heard walking above me, and whispered under my breath, “fuck.”
This time I managed to get the chair back up on four legs. I looked around for a place to put him. There was a small alcove next to the cabinet that would put him out of view of the door. I slid him over and stepped to the door to look. I could still see his zip-tied legs.
I heard Gwen coming down the stairs surging panic through me.
“Fuck fuck fuck!” I whispered searching for a better spot for him. When I couldn’t find one, I grabbed a sheet out of the cabinet and threw it over him before opening the cabinet door to try to block the view a little better.
The door to the guest room opened, and Gwen stood there looking groggy with her hair in a tangled mess.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
“Nothing,” I lied, “just doing some reorganizing down here.
“It’s five-thirty in the morning, and you’re dressed. Since when do you get up this early?” she asked. “What’s really going on?”
“I couldn’t sleep,” I shrugged as she stepped into the room.
“What the hell is this?” Gwen asked as she came around the corner and pulled the sheet.
“He was unconscious when I found him!” I blurted.
“Henry, you and I both know that you’re full of shit. Who is this?”
I looked down at the floor, “I’m sorry, I went and found Robert Jenkinson, I was hoping that he’d talk easy and I’d be able to get information on Grace before you woke up, so I have good news with your breakfast.
“Did you use this?” Gwen asked noticing the prod on the table.
“Only once…”
“What the fuck, Henry…”
Jonathan M. Leighton, Jr. 