Scott Wittenburg - See Tom Run

“Bummer, you are one sick dude,” Hoops declared.

“Screw you, Hoops!”

Tom’s mind was reeling as he felt the hearse begin to slow down again. Erin! he thought. And Kyle! They had to be talking about Erin and Kyle! Who else could it be?

“Well here we are-home sweet home,” Chappy announced. “Let’s get Tommy-Boy out of this crypt and show him our humble abode.”

Tom squinted his eyes to see where they were. It looked like they were still on Park Avenue.

Hoops came around to open the tailgate.

“Out, Tommy.”

Tom scooted on his ass toward the rear of the hearse and sat on the bumper long enough take in the surroundings The hearse was pulled up in front of 301 Park Avenue-The Waldorf-Astoria!

As Tom let out a gasp, Chappy came around and pulled him on to his feet.

“So what do ya think, Tommy-Boy?”

“I’m speechless,” was all Tom could say. The mere thought of these skuzzy delinquents inhabiting one of the world’s most elegant hotels was inconceivable.

“You freaking should be,” Chappy replied. “And let’s keep it that way.”

Chappy shoved Tom forward as they headed for the entrance of the famous Waldorf. Bummer held the door open and Tom was unable to remain silent after seeing the inside. “Where is all of the light coming from?”

Chappy glared at him and Tom saw murder in his eyes for speaking out of turn. The English boy’s misguided pride, however, prevailed.

“Backup generators, Tommy. Practically everything in this place is fully functional. And quite comfortable, I might add.”

Tom squinted as he took in the elegant beauty of the Waldorf’s lobby, bathed in light. A huge crystal chandelier cast delicate jewels of reflected light onto the marble floor. The stunning effect of the lush lobby lighting was a study in contrasts from the dark foreboding world he’d just left outside.

“Hungry, Tommy?” Chappy asked offhandedly.

Tom could eat a horse. “Starving.”

“Too freaking bad!” he quipped and giggled his girlish giggle. “Can’t feed ya, I’m afraid. But I’ll tell ya what I can do for you while my mates and I enjoy a little snack.”

Tom saw Bummer grin a moronic grin out of the corner of his eye. Tom simply stood there and braced himself for whatever came next.

“This way, please,” Chappy said, taking Tom by the arm and leading him across the lobby. “I have a special place for you to gather your thoughts and ponder the meaning of life.”

He led Tom over to a pair of doors located at the far side of the lobby as Bummer and Hoops followed behind.

“You’re roommate awaits you.” Chappy announced as he swung open the doors.

What Tom saw nearly made him vomit.

Suspended by a wire cable attached to a chandelier on one end and wrapped around the wrists of his outstretched arms on the other was, or what used to be, Erin’s boyfriend Kyle. He was totally nude and covered from head to toe in crimson trails of blood. His skull was shattered in several places, swollen to twice its original size and horribly disfigured-presumably Bummer’s handiwork.

Kyle had been used as a human pinata and now resembled a slaughtered animal hanging in a butcher shop.

Tom stared for a moment in horror then turned away. Chappy immediately pushed him into the room so hard that he fell to the floor.

“Take a good look at this luckless wretch, Tommy-Boy! Now you see what happens to intruders to our domain! And this piece of crap actually had the nerve to call me a ‘limey asshole’-imagine that! Before I could recover from this untimely insult Bummer was on the bloke quicker than flies on shit, worked him over real good with his crowbar. Couldn’t bring myself to stop him, actually.

I’d be lying if I told you I didn’t enjoy watching this worthless shit being turned into hamburger by my loyal mate. Loved every minute of it, in fact!”

Tom’s shoulder winced in pain from the fall. He sat for a moment and stared up at the three misfits standing before him, wondering where Erin was at this moment. The last thing he wanted to do was let on to them that he knew Kyle and Erin; that much he was sure of.

“Why is he-” Tom began to ask.

“Strung up?” Chappy finished the question for him. “Let’s just say that we had a little fun with the bastard before Bummer finished him off and leave it at that. You’ll know the rest soon enough.”

Tom gulped. He had nearly forgotten that he was a condemned man-or maybe he didn’t want to remember after seeing Kyle hanging from the ceiling like a sacrificed animal.

Have to find Erin and get the holy hell out of here! he thought. He did not want to stick around long enough to find out ‘the rest.’

“Well Tommy-Boy, I’m getting pretty hungry so we’ll leave you here so you can and your new friend can ‘hang out’ together until we finish eating. When we come back, you are in for one big surprise!”

I can hardly wait, Tom thought. Chappy led the other two out of the room and the doors swung shut behind them. He heard the click of a deadbolt and the muffled sound of their chuckles as they left him there in this death chamber.

Tom tried not to look up at Kyle as he got to his feet and began casing out the room for some way out.

The room was cavernous and may have been used for banquets or as a meeting room-he’d never been in the Waldorf and could only guess the room’s purpose. He was aware that the historic site had a rich past and had played host to a number of balls and similar get-togethers for socialites and countless big names throughout history.

Tom knew he didn’t have much time-Chappy and the boys could be back any minute-so he sprinted along the perimeter of the room, checking every door for a possible escape route. He was forced to turn with his back toward each door in order to turn the doorknobs since his hands were still cuffed behind him. It didn’t take long for to discover that every door in the huge room was locked securely.

Since he was trapped inside, his only chance for survival would be to make a break for it through the main doors when the lynch mob returned. He may need a weapon, though If he could just get these fricking handcuffs off…

He stored this fantasy away on his wish list and looked around for a weapon, well aware that there was little he could do without the full use of his hands and arms. Noticing how the silverware was wrapped inside the neatly folded linen napkins, he went over to one of the tables and turned his back against it, managed to grasp an enveloped silverware packet in his left hand and pulled out a serrated dinner knife with his right. Pretty weak defense against a. 44 magnum or a crowbar but better than nothing.

Next, he looked around for a suitable table to hide under. Fortunately, they were all large with white tablecloths draped over them that fell nearly all the way to the floor. This would enable him to conceal himself fairly easily under any one of them. He moved toward the entrance and searched for the best vantage point. If he were to hide under a table perhaps fifteen feet away and to either side of the door, he just might be able to sneak out past the punks before they had a chance to realize what was happening.

Which he realized was a long shot at best.

Suddenly, he heard voices outside that were getting louder. He scurried over to one of the tables, crouched down onto his knees, fell onto his right side, then scooted in under the table. He noticed in despair that the tablecloth was still flapping in the breeze when he heard the sound of the doors fly open.

“We’re back, Tommy!” Chappy shouted in his signature cockney accent. “I certainly hope that you and our- What’s this? I don’t see you Tommy-Boy! Oh, Tommy, Tommy, Tommy-it’s really not a good idea for you to try to hide from us. It is definitely going to make your demise all the more painful!”