Free Fairplay, Denver Cereal Volume 6 by Claudia Hall Christian Page A

location
     
    Dressed in all black including a black
balaclava, Colin Hargreaves sat down in a chair across from Katy’s
old Daddy’s, Trevor’s father. Dangling from a cord, a 60 watt
incandescent bulb lit the pitch back room. Trevor’s father
whimpered at the sound of Colin sitting down. His ankles were tied
to a wooden chair. His hands were handcuffed behind him. He was
terrified, but otherwise unharmed.
    “ Hello scumbag,” Colin
growled.

CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED and SIXTY-TWO
    Good Life
     
    Sunday afternoon – 4:25 P.M.
Undisclosed location
     
    “ You… you can’t keep me
here,” the man sputtered. “I know my rights! Where’s my attorney!?
I want an attorney! Yeah, a court appointed attorney. A good court appointed
attorney like… like that Casey Anthony had. And…”
    “ Shut the fuck up,” Colin
said.
    “ You can’t keep me here,”
the man started again.
    “ I can do whatever I want
to you,” Colin said. “You should read your Patriot Act. Kidnapping
is considered an act of Domestic Terrorism. You, your wretched
friends and that evil wife of yours, have been classified terrorist
by the US State Department.”
    “ Terrorists!!” the man
tugged against his handcuffed wrists. “You’re the terrorist. You’ve
kidnapped me!”
    Colin chuckled. It never ceased to amaze him
how bad people felt so victimized by the consequences of their
actions.
    “ You planned and executed
the kidnap of a US Senator’s grandson,” Colin said. “Your
compatriots have already given you up, jerk off. You can deny it if
you want. Go ahead. But remember, you and your buddies have already
been labeled as domestic terrorists. Imagine how that’s gonna look
on a job application.”
    The man leaned back in his chair.
    “ He’s disabled,” a woman’s
voice came from behind. “Paralyzed from the waist down.”
    “ Oh that’s right,” Colin
laughed. “I forgot you were disabled because you’re not. Are
you?”
    “ Only a very low person
would mock an injured man such as myself,” the man sniffed at
Colin.
    “ Well.” Laughing, Colin
got up from his chair. “I’ll leave you to contemplate your
sins.”
    “ Wait!” The man’s face
became a mask of panic and despair. “You can’t leave me here! By
myself!”
    “ What did plan for Paddie
Hargreaves?” A big, powerful man, Colin knocked over his wooden
chair with a quick movement toward the man. The man cringed and
shifted away from Colin. “You planned to ‘stick him in a truck
until the little bastard was paid for.’ You didn’t give a crap if
he cried. You didn’t give a crap if he wet himself or went hungry.
Hell, you didn’t even care if he died . You think you deserve better
than that!”
    “ You have to understand!
They killed my only
child ! They killed my beautiful son! They stole my granddaughter.
They…”
    “ So your response to that
is to put a four year old child, a baby , in a box? To let him beg for
his mother!? Let him cry for his best friend’s help! To cry for his
father to save him? You’d let a small child scratch at the lid of
his coffin while you wait for your payday?”
    “ You have to understand…”
the man started again.
    “ No, sir,” Colin said.
“You have to understand. You fucked with the wrong
people.”
    Colin set his chair on its legs and walked
out of the room.
    ~~~~~~~~
    Sunday afternoon – 4:25 P.M.
Denver, CO
     
    Seth had vomited and had diarrhea. He’d
cried and yelled. He’d hallucinated. And he’d drunk every wicked
concoction Maresol could pack in a glass – beets and spinach juice,
kale and apples and… he had no idea. He’d stopped asking after the
first hour. He didn’t want to know.
    His young friends were with him every step
of the way. Ava got sick first. She was so sick he’d called Bumpy
to check her. Just as she was recovering, Dale fell ill. Crying and
begging his dead father to rescue him, Dale spewed from both ends
of his digestive system. When Dale began to recover, Seth