hit by a heavy sedative.
“You relax,” Gus said over the growl of the engine. “It’s a twenty minute drive back to the house. Okay?”
Scott’s head had already slumped forward by the time Gus had finished speaking. Gus didn’t mind. The man was buckled in. Just as long as he didn’t snore.
“Don’t worry,” Gus added, and focused on the road.
*
Scott woke up in a bed, lying on his stomach with his cheek mashed into a pillow. He tried to roll over, but he felt pain when he pulled to his left. He realized then that he was stripped to the waist and bandaged. He lay underneath a thick comforter. He eyed the room, and from what he could see, the place was nice. A glass of water sat on a night table. He sat up, wincing at the tug in his ankle. He pulled back the blanket and gazed down to see that his ankle was heavily bandaged. Not bad, he thought, and inspected the cloth wraps looped around his chest. He took a deep breath, and it hurt, but considering where he was, he could bear it.
“Hey!” He reached for the glass of water and drank it all.
The door opened, and Gus walked in. Light gleamed off his bald head. “What?”
Scott eyed Gus uncertainly. “Where are we?”
“At my house. Interested in knowing how long you slept?”
“How long?”
“Two days. I got your boots off and bandaged up your foot there, and your bullet holes. I disinfected them with some peroxide. Best I could do with what I got.”
Scott placed the glass back on the table. “Thanks. Where’d the water come from?”
“Got a well.”
“A well?”
“Yeah, a fuckin’ well.” Gus frowned. “Why’s that a shock?”
“How do you…?” Scott shrugged.
“Get the water up?”
“Yeah.”
“Got an electric pump, too.” Gus leaned against the door frame. “I’m pretty much self-contained here.”
“Jesus, I’ll say.”
“It ain’t perfect, by any means. Solar panels on the roof take in energy and save it in a battery or some such bunk. I don’t understand it really, and I expect the whole damn works of it will die on me this coming winter. But it’s working now, and it operates the pump that draws up water from the well. Gotta cistern on the mountainside, too. Collects rainwater, or so I think.”
“Oh.” Scott arched his eyebrows in surprise.
“Yeah, but if you need to use the can, you use that bucket.” Gus indicated a five gallon plastic bucket near the bed, a roll of toilet paper beside it. “You fill that, give a holler, and I’ll empty it. We don’t use the toilets in the house; that’s rule one. There’s an outhouse out front. But I figure by the time you can use that, you’ll be ready to leave anyway.”
Scott nodded. He supposed he would.
“Regardless, you’re here now. If you need anything, give a shout. I got books, but I’m not moving the TV up here.”
“You have a TV?”
“Bet your ass I have a TV. Only one of a few things you can do up here. Flat-screen bastard as wide as your ass. Home entertainment system, too. ”
“Jesus Christ.”
“Oh, yeah,” Gus said. “Got a full digital library of just about anything you want to see. Sports, old TV sitcoms, horror movies, comedies, action, you name it. Even got a bunch of foreign flicks down there.”
“How many people are here?” Scott asked.
Gus picked something off his black sweatshirt. “Just you and me.”
“That’s it?”
“Yep. Only you out there?” Gus asked.
“Just me now,” Scott said and rubbed at his growing beard.
“Hmm.” Gus looked down at the floor for a moment. “Were you the guy who shot my van?”
“Huh?”
Gus looked at him. “Were you the guy who shot my van?”
Scott thought about it. “Were you driving around that same area a couple of days ago?”
“Yep. I was. House picking.”
“Then I probably shot at you.”
Gus nodded. “You got my attention.”
Scott grimaced. “Thought you were someone else, man.”
“Oh, yeah? Who?”
“Didn’t see his face. He called himself
“You relax,” Gus said over the growl of the engine. “It’s a twenty minute drive back to the house. Okay?”
Scott’s head had already slumped forward by the time Gus had finished speaking. Gus didn’t mind. The man was buckled in. Just as long as he didn’t snore.
“Don’t worry,” Gus added, and focused on the road.
*
Scott woke up in a bed, lying on his stomach with his cheek mashed into a pillow. He tried to roll over, but he felt pain when he pulled to his left. He realized then that he was stripped to the waist and bandaged. He lay underneath a thick comforter. He eyed the room, and from what he could see, the place was nice. A glass of water sat on a night table. He sat up, wincing at the tug in his ankle. He pulled back the blanket and gazed down to see that his ankle was heavily bandaged. Not bad, he thought, and inspected the cloth wraps looped around his chest. He took a deep breath, and it hurt, but considering where he was, he could bear it.
“Hey!” He reached for the glass of water and drank it all.
The door opened, and Gus walked in. Light gleamed off his bald head. “What?”
Scott eyed Gus uncertainly. “Where are we?”
“At my house. Interested in knowing how long you slept?”
“How long?”
“Two days. I got your boots off and bandaged up your foot there, and your bullet holes. I disinfected them with some peroxide. Best I could do with what I got.”
Scott placed the glass back on the table. “Thanks. Where’d the water come from?”
“Got a well.”
“A well?”
“Yeah, a fuckin’ well.” Gus frowned. “Why’s that a shock?”
“How do you…?” Scott shrugged.
“Get the water up?”
“Yeah.”
“Got an electric pump, too.” Gus leaned against the door frame. “I’m pretty much self-contained here.”
“Jesus, I’ll say.”
“It ain’t perfect, by any means. Solar panels on the roof take in energy and save it in a battery or some such bunk. I don’t understand it really, and I expect the whole damn works of it will die on me this coming winter. But it’s working now, and it operates the pump that draws up water from the well. Gotta cistern on the mountainside, too. Collects rainwater, or so I think.”
“Oh.” Scott arched his eyebrows in surprise.
“Yeah, but if you need to use the can, you use that bucket.” Gus indicated a five gallon plastic bucket near the bed, a roll of toilet paper beside it. “You fill that, give a holler, and I’ll empty it. We don’t use the toilets in the house; that’s rule one. There’s an outhouse out front. But I figure by the time you can use that, you’ll be ready to leave anyway.”
Scott nodded. He supposed he would.
“Regardless, you’re here now. If you need anything, give a shout. I got books, but I’m not moving the TV up here.”
“You have a TV?”
“Bet your ass I have a TV. Only one of a few things you can do up here. Flat-screen bastard as wide as your ass. Home entertainment system, too. ”
“Jesus Christ.”
“Oh, yeah,” Gus said. “Got a full digital library of just about anything you want to see. Sports, old TV sitcoms, horror movies, comedies, action, you name it. Even got a bunch of foreign flicks down there.”
“How many people are here?” Scott asked.
Gus picked something off his black sweatshirt. “Just you and me.”
“That’s it?”
“Yep. Only you out there?” Gus asked.
“Just me now,” Scott said and rubbed at his growing beard.
“Hmm.” Gus looked down at the floor for a moment. “Were you the guy who shot my van?”
“Huh?”
Gus looked at him. “Were you the guy who shot my van?”
Scott thought about it. “Were you driving around that same area a couple of days ago?”
“Yep. I was. House picking.”
“Then I probably shot at you.”
Gus nodded. “You got my attention.”
Scott grimaced. “Thought you were someone else, man.”
“Oh, yeah? Who?”
“Didn’t see his face. He called himself
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