Jason Frost - Warlord 04 - Prisonland by Jason Frost - Warlord 04 Page A

she marched across the room toward the door. “You’ll be our guest for the next week or so, Mr. Ravensmith.”
    “I can’t stay here that long.” Dodd would certainly be gone by then.
    “You don’t have any choice,” she said and started through the door. She paused. “And if you try to steal a boat, you’ll be killed on sight.”
    Eric stared at each of the women. Riva smirked, her hip thrust out as if posing for a magazine. Maggie looked indifferent, perched on the edge of the table. Lynda stood with powerful arms on her wide hips.
    “I’m listening,” Eric sighed. “What’s your proposition?”

----

TEN
     
    “You were a big help in there,” Eric said.
    D.B. smiled. “I thought I played the shell-shocked orphan pretty damn good.”
    “Well, You played it well .”
    “Thanks. I thought I did too.”
    Eric paced around the room. He tried the door for the tenth time. It was still locked.
    “Where are we?” D.B. asked.
    “Alcatraz.”
    “I know it’s Alcatraz for Chrissake. I mean where on Alcatraz? This doesn’t look like any prison I’ve seen in the movies. Where are the bars? Where you’re supposed to bang your tin cup when you yell for the screws?”
    “This is probably the warden’s house.”
    “Like where Robert Redford lived in Brubaker ?”
    “What did you do besides watch movies?”
    “What else was there to do in Fresno? You had a date, you went to the movies or a party. Usually both. Then I had my cheerleading. Don’t laugh.”
    “I wasn’t.”
    “Yeah, well don’t. Cheerleading was good training for the stage. Helped make my voice strong for my singing.”
    Eric sat on the floor of the barren room. “Come here.”
    D.B, stood in front of him. “What?”
    He patted the ground next to him. “Here.”
    “They said they’ll be right back.”
    “So?”
    She shrugged. “Okay, if that’s what turns you on.” Instantly she pulled her T-shirt off and started to tug off her shorts. “But it’ll have to be a quickie.”
    “Jesus,” Eric said, grabbing her wrists before she could pull her shorts off any further. “I’ve never seen anyone so anxious to take off their clothes.”
    “Isn’t that what you wanted?”
    “No, damn it. I wanted you to sit down. So we could talk.”
    “Talk?” She laughed her crackling cricket laugh and hiked her shorts back up to her waist. She pulled the T-shirt back on and sat down. “Sorry,” she smiled. Then a look of concern spread across her freckled face. She nodded at his crotch. “You aren’t, uh, damaged are you? Like it doesn’t work or something?”
    Eric smiled. “No. I’m fine.”
    “You gay? I mean, it’s all right if you are. I don’t care or anything. You want me to sing Judy Garland songs, I will.”
    “No, I’m not gay.”
    She nodded slowly, thinking. “Don’t you ever get horny?”
    Eric laughed. “Never.”
    “Really?” She was amazed. “How do you do it?”
    “Self-hypnosis.”
    “Wow. Like with a swinging watch?”
    “Something like that. Only I just imagine that Ward Cleaver is always looking over my shoulder. And I try not to do anything he’d disapprove of.”
    “Ward Cleaver? Wasn’t he a president or something?”
    “Should have been. He was the Beaver’s dad in Leave it to Beaver .”
    “Oh yeah, I’ve seen that. Yeah, I see what you mean now. And it works, huh? Keeps you from getting excited?”
    Eric nodded.
    She laughed loudly, slapping his arm playfully. “What kind of jerk do you take me for? I know when you’re kidding me.”
    Eric’s tone was serious. “Then maybe you can tell me when you’re kidding me.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “Why wouldn’t you speak before, when those women were here.”
    “I had nothing to say.”
    “Come off it, D.B. They might have killed me.”
    “I would’ve talked if I’d had to.”
    Eric tilted her chin up so their eyes met. “Why the dumb act?”
    “Protection. As long as people don’t think you’re a threat they leave you pretty