The 10th in a serial story of great expectations.
(SCENE: Boybando a wasteland of abandoned theme parks, restaurants and squatter filled hotels. The Creekers controlled most of the southern part of what used to be Orlando where the tourists stops once flourished. But Prosby was looking to the north, to the woods, to the Ocala National People’s Reserve.”
Prosby was less than two miles from Burnees, but he didn’t know that.
Staying in the shadows, he still felt a presence, like somebody tailing him. Who’s there? He stopped and asked. He’d seen a figure in black garb, an overcoat maybe. Before you could say ‘Show time’ a Light came on, mostly in Prosby’s face. He knew he was circled by four men but they were shadows.
Suddenly in one melodramatic breath, that really was quite professional sounding, the four young man sang in unison: Bye Bye Bye.
Then broke it down: “I’m doing this tonight,” they sang: “You’re probably gonna start a fight.”
Now Prosby by this time had calculated his odd (singular because he could only come up with one). He needed to get the leader. Take him out and the rest will run like boys to the backstreet: Bye Bye Bye.
“Hello I’m Justy”, the leader said, walking over hand extended.
They shook hands and Prosby palms out said “Who are you and what do you need from me? If nothing, then I’ll be on my way.’
“Hold on cowboy,’ Justy laughed, sending the others into a odd cycle of giggles that sounded like chirpin’ crickets. “We’re not through here. I need a little dialogue here.”
“And then it’s Bye Bye Bye,” the way they sung it on queue was freaking Prosby out.
So what do you want to do. Prosby had managed to slip very close to Justy. Unafraid, Justy turned and they were nose-to-nose.
“No, I’m not going to kill you. You maybe useful to us later on,” Justy said.
Justy started to walk away. They all had leather jackets, the dressy kind. But most were barefoot and their feet were dirty and scraped.
“Oh, I understand you’re trying to find Burnees,” Justy said with a smile.
Prosby jerked his head up and began advancing — “Where is she? Where? If you have her I swear I’ll………..ZZSSTZZZZZZ77STZZ
The stun gun deposited the big spark in the back of his neck. Prosby went down in a crumple.
After a few minutes, he opened his eyes and one-inch from his face was Justy.
“Don’t fuck with us,” Justy said. “We have an interest in seeing Burnees alive — but you? You? We are only interested in you as you can help us find her. Get it?”
Justy softened: “Listen, not looking to hurt you for real. But we need you to deliver.”
“Where is she?” Prosby was feeling out of sync with this young man.
“We believe she’s in federal custody in the Underground. She was set for trial and will probably get death. Have not heard word one about what’s going on.”
“Where’s the portal?” Prosby asked.
“Best one to use is Alexander Springs. Once you get in, it’s easy. But be careful, it’s loaded on the surface with gators and Dizz Bots.”
Just last week, they say a man named Vanilla Ice Cream was attached to a kite by the Ben Franklin Diz Bot.
He was immediately sailed into the air and promptly electrocuted when the key taped to his forehead was struck by lightning. He still hangs in a tree. He was reported missing by his employer, MacyMart, where he did seasonal work during Christmas with packages.
He was a wrapper.
Justy stared at Prosby, then smiled: “We’ll be watching Prosby. Don’t make us find you.”
TO BE CONTINUED