Free Crossing Bedlam by Charles E. Yallowitz Page B

choosing an easily bribed Judge. The serial killer grins while twisting over the cuffs, putting his hands in front to scratch his nose. “Better to get this over with, right? I mean, the longer you keep us hostage and not lay down the law, the more chances we’ll get to escape. Punxsutawney is the best choice.”
    Cassidy chuckles while Firestone scowls and Noah nods in agreement. “You’re thinking of the fucking groundhog, aren’t you?”
    “Do you honestly think I would travel to a place with the sole purpose being to kill a lying rodent who has probably been eaten by now?”
    “Yes.”
    Lloyd nudges the nearest soldier with his elbow as he says, “she knows me far too well.”
    *****
    Noah and Firestone stay in the jeep with the prisoners while their soldiers march alongside the slow moving transport. The ten men and women keep their weapons ready, neither trusting the other squad. The floodlights atop the vehicle are on to help them traverse the forest, the cloudy sky making the wilderness even darker. Various animals and random Wilders retreat from the bright beams, only two of the bulbs working due to the third being previously damaged by Penny. Sprawled on the hood of the jeep, a dead deer has been strapped down and marked with the black and gold of Pittsburgh. The soldier who nabbed the large buck is proudly carrying the antlers, which are awkwardly sticking out of his backpack. Those in the Philadelphia squad try to ignore the man’s arrogant grin and cocky strut, but their rumbling stomachs make the possibility of cooked venison hard to be ungrateful for.
    Cassidy mutters under the gag that has been placed over her mouth to stop her complaints about the wasting of gas and battery power. She is handcuffed to the headrest of the seat in front of her, which is where Noah calmly rests with his eyes closed. Unwilling to be quiet, the young woman continues her tirade even though nobody can understand what she is saying. Several times she merely wants to let off some steam and is really angrily singing the lyrics of the last song that came out of the deceased CD player. Her muffled voice becomes one of panic when Lloyd doubles over and groans in pain, his knees pressing against his stomach. Nobody else pays attention until the serial killer releases a foul stench that fills the jeep, forcing Firestone to stop for an evacuation.
    “What in the world did you do?” the towering man asks, his eyes tearing from the smell. He refuses to let Lloyd out of the jeep, keeping him inside at gunpoint. “I don’t know what kind of trick this is, but it isn’t funny. Some of us will have to keep this vehicle and we don’t want it smelling like an outhouse.”
    “Sorry, but I suffer from irritable bowel syndrome. Though I prefer to call it spastic colon because that sounds cooler,” Lloyd replies, moving to unleash another fart out the door. With a groan, he curls into the fetal position and collapses to the ground. “It gets really bad when I’m stressed or haven’t had much water. Hydration is always important when your innards have a habit of getting tangled. I should be fine if I can relieve the pressure. Just let me go into the woods and do my business.”
    “How do I know you’re not lying?” Firestone asks, the noxious smell making him feel queasy. “I should shoot you now and end this. Who wants a soldier that can give away their position like this?”
    “Don’t do anything drastic,” Noah says as he comes around the car. He points at one man from each squad and snaps his fingers. “We’ll each send a soldier to escort him to wherever he needs to go. Two armed men should be more than enough to handle the situation. The alternative is to waste time arguing, which would end with us being more tired or him making a mess in his pants. They only have two rolls of toilet paper in their supplies, so I’d rather not waste them on whatever this is. Do you agree?”
    Too tired and nauseous to argue, Firestone