furious when she changed.
Well, she'd also been scared. Maybe it was the fear that did it, not the anger.
Or maybe Dad had learned to control himself better.
Oh well. It didn't matter. She was just trying to think about things besides how much danger she was in.
"Ally?"
She looked up at George. "What?"
"You okay?"
"Do you think I'm okay?"
"Sorry. You looked like you were drifting off for a bit."
She and George were seated in the back of a black van. This one did not have windows on the sides. Their hands and feet were bound together by those plastic straps that police used now instead of metal handcuffs. Their hands were behind their backs, and Ally's arms were almost completely numb. Lou was also bound up, though he was flopped over on his side, sleeping. They couldn't use the plastic straps on his hands, since he only had one, so his wrist was cuffed to the rear door handle with regular handcuffs. They'd taken George's phone away.
Ally doubted that the plastic straps would hold her if she changed. Unfortunately, she'd been trying to change back pretty much ever since she'd woken up from the drugged dart, and it wasn't working.
The men who captured them knew that, of course. When they tossed her into the back of the van, one of them had made a point of showing her the tranquilizer dart gun he was holding, and he'd also told her that his regular gun had silver bullets.
"Then let me drift," Ally said to George.
George nodded. "Fair enough."
"What are they going to do to us?"
George looked sort of like Dad did when she'd demanded to know why he cheated on Mom. He didn't look away like Dad, but he seemed to be trying to think up a convincing answer on the spot. Finally he just said, "I don't know."
"Are they going to kill us?"
"Want the truth?"
"Yes."
"Gun to my head, if I had to say what I thought would happen, I'd say that Lou and I are toast. But they'll let you go. Even these psychos don't want the heat that would come from killing you."
"Sorry to eavesdrop," said the man in the passenger seat (George couldn't see if he was the one who'd been shot in the chest or the stomach), turning around to face them, "but do you mind if I put in my two cents?"
"Please do."
"They're not letting her go. Not a chance."
"Mind cutting my hands free? I'd like to give you the finger."
The man chuckled and turned back around.
"He's just trying to scare you," George told Ally.
"He did."
"Don't let him. These guys are a bunch of sadists."
"And you're not?"
"No. I'm not. I don't want anything bad to happen to you."
Ally let out an incredulous laugh. Had he really just said that?
"What?" George asked.
"You're a piece of shit, George. You're a child-abducting piece of shit. Don't act like you're some kind of...I don't know, holy warrior or something."
"I never said that I was a holy warrior or something. Listen, you're not going to say anything about me that's worse than what I say about myself—"
"Your nose is ugly."
"—so why not stop the verbal abuse, okay?"
"What, the big bad gangster can't handle some insults from a tiny little girl? Did I hurt your feelings?"
"My feelings are fine. I just think that there are more productive ways we could be spending our time."
"Our time trapped in the back of a van."
"Yes. That time. We could be using this opportunity to repair our relationship. Right now we need to stick together. Why be a bitchy teenager?"
Ally had a million sarcastic responses to that...but he was right. She hadn't believed him when he said that he'd let her go, and she knew that he was putting his own survival ahead of hers, yet still, she did believe that he'd been forced into this whole thing. He wasn't doing it for money or some disgusting pleasure. If nothing else, he was more on her side than the people she'd be meeting soon.
Time to stop being antagonistic.
Oh, she still planned to see him and Lou dead or in prison, but for now, she'd play nice.
"Fine," she
Well, she'd also been scared. Maybe it was the fear that did it, not the anger.
Or maybe Dad had learned to control himself better.
Oh well. It didn't matter. She was just trying to think about things besides how much danger she was in.
"Ally?"
She looked up at George. "What?"
"You okay?"
"Do you think I'm okay?"
"Sorry. You looked like you were drifting off for a bit."
She and George were seated in the back of a black van. This one did not have windows on the sides. Their hands and feet were bound together by those plastic straps that police used now instead of metal handcuffs. Their hands were behind their backs, and Ally's arms were almost completely numb. Lou was also bound up, though he was flopped over on his side, sleeping. They couldn't use the plastic straps on his hands, since he only had one, so his wrist was cuffed to the rear door handle with regular handcuffs. They'd taken George's phone away.
Ally doubted that the plastic straps would hold her if she changed. Unfortunately, she'd been trying to change back pretty much ever since she'd woken up from the drugged dart, and it wasn't working.
The men who captured them knew that, of course. When they tossed her into the back of the van, one of them had made a point of showing her the tranquilizer dart gun he was holding, and he'd also told her that his regular gun had silver bullets.
"Then let me drift," Ally said to George.
George nodded. "Fair enough."
"What are they going to do to us?"
George looked sort of like Dad did when she'd demanded to know why he cheated on Mom. He didn't look away like Dad, but he seemed to be trying to think up a convincing answer on the spot. Finally he just said, "I don't know."
"Are they going to kill us?"
"Want the truth?"
"Yes."
"Gun to my head, if I had to say what I thought would happen, I'd say that Lou and I are toast. But they'll let you go. Even these psychos don't want the heat that would come from killing you."
"Sorry to eavesdrop," said the man in the passenger seat (George couldn't see if he was the one who'd been shot in the chest or the stomach), turning around to face them, "but do you mind if I put in my two cents?"
"Please do."
"They're not letting her go. Not a chance."
"Mind cutting my hands free? I'd like to give you the finger."
The man chuckled and turned back around.
"He's just trying to scare you," George told Ally.
"He did."
"Don't let him. These guys are a bunch of sadists."
"And you're not?"
"No. I'm not. I don't want anything bad to happen to you."
Ally let out an incredulous laugh. Had he really just said that?
"What?" George asked.
"You're a piece of shit, George. You're a child-abducting piece of shit. Don't act like you're some kind of...I don't know, holy warrior or something."
"I never said that I was a holy warrior or something. Listen, you're not going to say anything about me that's worse than what I say about myself—"
"Your nose is ugly."
"—so why not stop the verbal abuse, okay?"
"What, the big bad gangster can't handle some insults from a tiny little girl? Did I hurt your feelings?"
"My feelings are fine. I just think that there are more productive ways we could be spending our time."
"Our time trapped in the back of a van."
"Yes. That time. We could be using this opportunity to repair our relationship. Right now we need to stick together. Why be a bitchy teenager?"
Ally had a million sarcastic responses to that...but he was right. She hadn't believed him when he said that he'd let her go, and she knew that he was putting his own survival ahead of hers, yet still, she did believe that he'd been forced into this whole thing. He wasn't doing it for money or some disgusting pleasure. If nothing else, he was more on her side than the people she'd be meeting soon.
Time to stop being antagonistic.
Oh, she still planned to see him and Lou dead or in prison, but for now, she'd play nice.
"Fine," she
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