Scott Wittenburg - See Tom Run

All of this and the fact that he was scared shitless.

The rational thing to do was stay here in the Jeep for the night, try to catch a few winks and resume tomorrow morning in the daylight. At least then he could see what the hell he was doing.

His mind made up, Tom cracked his last bottle of spring water, took a slug and downed a handful of cashews. Feeling his eyelids droop for what had to be the hundredth time since this grueling trip through hell began, he rummaged through the duffel bag for the blanket he’d packed and spread it out over himself. He locked the doors, pulled the recliner lever up, leaned back in the seat and stretched his legs out until his feet were rested up against the carpeted firewall. Within a minute he was fast asleep.

Tom awoke with a start. An instant later, he heard a crash and felt shards of glass fall into his lap. Before he could react, he heard the click of a door lock and saw the Jeep’s interior bathed in light as the driver’s side door suddenly swung open.

In an instant, huge hands clawed at his chest, pulling him up and out of the Jeep. His heart beating like a jackhammer, Tom could see the face of his captor in the dim light of the Jeep. The face was young, about eighteen or so, and a grimy gray. The boy pulled Tom onto his feet while another youth came out of nowhere and punched him in the gut.

“Look what we have here, mates! Another intruder to our domain!”

Tom crouched forward from the blow long enough for a knee to uppercut his jaw. His head whipped backward as he reeled in pain.

“Jesus Christ!” he wailed. “What the hell-”

His first captor held him in a full nelson from behind and spat into his ear, “Now matey, there’ll be no more words from you now!”

Tom got a good look at the other adversary as he stood there leering at Tom, brandishing what looked to be a three-foot long iron bar. This boy was also young, maybe sixteen or so, tall, lanky and black.

“That is unless you want to feel some more pain from this,” the black youth cried, drawing the bar back menacingly.

Tom instinctively tried to raise his arms to protect himself but the grip on them was too great.

“Nice wheels ya got here,” another voice said. Tom spotted a third youth who had been standing in the shadows. He was white, stocky and not quite as tall as the other boys.

“This is the first Jeep we’ve seen,” he added.

“Say, you’re right, Bummer!” the boy with the English accent replied. “We can go anywhere in this thing!”

“Four wheel drive-motherfucker!” Bummer exclaimed.

‘Let’s just see what he has inside for us. Hoops, you check it out. And why don’t you cuff our guest so he doesn’t get any wise ideas, Bum,” the young Brit said.

“Got it, Chappy,” the stocky boy replied.

As the black youth boarded the Jeep and poked around, Bummer came over to Tom, pulled a pair of handcuffs from his back pocket and cuffed Tom while the other boy held him. The stench emanating from Bummer was unbearable-a disgusting mix of sweat, alcohol and human excrement. Tom nearly gagged.

“There, now. That should keep ya under control. So tell us your name, bloke. No sense in being a stranger!” Chappy chirped.

“Tom. Tom Grayson.”

“Well, Tommy-Boy, it’s a pleasure to meet you. Allow me to introduce you to the troops here. This is Bummer and that’s Hoops in there casing out your ride.”

Tom’s jaw was pounding as he stood there before his captors. “What do you plan on doing?” he managed to say.

Chappy laughed heartily, a sort of girlish giggle. “Did ya hear that, blokes? Tommy-Boy here wants to know our plans!”

Bummer snickered moronically. “That’s a laugh and a half!”

Chappy stood directly in front of Tom, smiled and pulled out a long barreled pistol – the kind that Dirty Harry used. He pointed the gun directly at Tom’s forehead and pulled back the hammer. Tom froze, his heart in his throat.

This is it, he thought.

“I’m afraid our plan is to kill you and take your wheels, Tommy-Boy. So why don’t you make your final request before I blow your brains out. But make it quick-we’ve got other things to do.”

“Why? Why are going to shoot me? I haven’t done anything to you,” he pleaded.

Chappy giggled again. “Oh, but you have, Tommy-boy! You’ve done something very bad. You have busted into our fair town without an invitation. And that just isn’t a happening thing, is it, Hoops?”

Hoops had joined them, holding Tom’s iBook and cell phone up for everyone to see.

“Definitely not happening, dude. Check it out, men! An iBook and a phone. Pretty good shit, eh?”

“Not bad-any juice in that computer, Tommy?”

Tom replied weakly, his voice cracking. “I think so.”

“Excellent! I’ll say one last thing before we say our goodbyes, Matey. You’ve brought us some damn good shit here. I mean, a fucking Jeep, a phone and a Mac-absolutely awesome!”

Tom wished he could share in the joy of their spoils but couldn’t. All he could do was stare at the. 44 Magnum pointing at him and wait to make Chappy’s day Hoops said, “The Jeep won’t turn over, Chappy. Something’s screwed up.”

“Screw it. We’ll come back later when it’s light and see if we can get it running. At least we got the ‘puter and a phone, and for that we thank you very kindly, Tommy. In fact, I think we’ll grant you one final request for all of these wonderful contributions. What would you fancy, Tommy-Boy? Pizza? A beer? Or maybe you’d like to give us all a blowjob! Hey, hey, whatayasay, Tommy-Boy?” Chappy taunted.

“Yeah, a blowjob! C’mon Tommy, let’s make that your final request!” Bummer shrieked as all three boys laughed in unison.

Tom’s head was spinning wildly as he tried to figure a way out of this situation. He could make a run for it, but he knew he wouldn’t get far with that loaded. 44 in Chappy’s hand.

But what if he could he kick it out of his hand? Was it possible?

Got to stall them longer-got to think this through.

“Uh, hate to disappoint you boys, but a beer is actually sounding like a better choice,” Tom finally said, forcing a smile.

Hoops got right up into Tom’s face. “What the hell makes you think you got a choice, Tommy-Boy? You didn’t think we was gonna really let you choose your own final request did you?”

Chappy shook his head slowly and said: “I’m afraid Hoops is right, Tommy. In case you haven’t already guessed, we are calling the shots here. And you are just gonna have to go with whatever we decide on. So what’s it gonna be, mates? Shall we give this man a beer or let him suck our weenies?”

The other two looked at one another, snickered and shouted in unison, “Weenies!”

Tom felt his heart sink and his blood boil. He would rather be shot In a flash, he kicked the Magnum out of Chappy’s hand. The gun went flying into the air. Before it touched the ground, Tom was twenty yards away running for his life.

“Catch him, lads!” Tom heard Chappy holler from behind. He never looked back as he sprinted east down Thirty-Fourth Street.

He heard a deafening shot ring out and a bullet ricochet off a nearby wall as he ran with all his might toward the store with the broken window. Although it was pitch dark, he knew to stay on the right side of the sidewalk and that it wasn’t much further ahead. His plan was to duck into the building before the others caught up to him.

In another forty yards, he reached the store and glanced back toward his pursuers. He could see a long shaft of light aimed in his direction from about thirty yards back.

Tom groped around until he felt where the break in the window was, sliced two fingers in the process and hopped through the window into the store. The broken glass made a loud crunching sound beneath his feet as he scurried toward the rear of the store. A beam of light danced around on the east wall just as he bumped into a large object. Tom groped around and realized that it was a sales counter, ran his hands along the top until he reached a corner, rounded the corner and crouched down behind the counter.