[Scene Part 7. Prosby still trying to figure out why he is being kidnapped, looks for an escape from the crazy psychopathic Dani and two of her muscle heads.]
It was midnight in Bithlo. Prosby had been tied up, mask on, in the back of a pick-up truck since they left the Panhandle town of Dothan.
Dothan was relatively safe. Bithlo was not.
But because the ocean had covered 70 percent of Florida over the past few hundred years, the only way to get to Orlando was through Bithlo.
Prosby banged his head on the rear view glass to try and get Dani’s attention. She wasn’t driving, one of her steroid enhanced men was at the wheel. He looked about 6’7” and a chiseled 250 pounds. Another one, was quite a bit shorter but probably heavier. As one North American comic put it years ago: His muscles had muscles.
Prosby shook his head. How did this happen?
And then there was Burnees. They were friends in childhood, lovers thereafter. Then their world changed. Hell, everybody’s world changed.
Larger hisicanes and hurricanes, tornadoes with winds off the charts, and the rains that never stopped — except when they stopped… they really stopped.
Last time he saw her, Prosby and Burnees were broke in an ever-disappearing Baton Rouge. They hopped aboard an 18-wheeler and headed west, singing, playing harmonica. Last time he saw her was in California, some godforsaken town. Lodi, maybe? Prosby’s memory was failing him.
He was officially diagnosed years ago, with the little known brain disease called the Woolies, a condition named after Dr. Chapo Wulu, believed caused by radiation exposure. The radiation cultivated killer proteins nicknamed Memory Monsters. Prosby was in early stages but he knew someday his memory would be wiped. On days like this, maybe that’s a good thing.
Salinas! The memory though a late arrival decided to visit. That’s right. Beach town probably underwater now. He remembered that he and Burnees had such great expectations.
But she walked away. ..Anyway.
He never saw her again. He had heard the rumors though. That she was working for the Guardians or hiding from the Guardians. He was glad to hear she was still living nonetheless. He wondered what the witchy woman Dani wanted.
Prosby was snapped out of his reverie by the short muscle head standing over him as the truck came to a stop.
“Hey Popeye,” Prosby said to the man glaring at him. “Gonna whip up some spinach omelettes for us?”
“Shut up unless you want me bounce your head on the street,” said square-muscle.
“Good one, muscle head,” Prosb y said, actually impressed with bicep-boy’s ability to string words together into a sentence.
“Whasssup!” Dani said smiling, emerging from the passenger side, raising her hands and dancing. You two boys introducing yourselves? Big meathead stayed in the driver’s seat looking straight ahead.
Prosby suspected Dani was on cocaine, pharmaceutical.
“I gotta take a leak,” Prosby said.
“Aww nature calls,” Dani said. “You know I may be calling too, soon. As they say, let nature take it’s course.”
She flicked her head to square peg indicating for him to take Prosby for a short walk.
“Stay with him,” she said. “Don’t try anything Prosby, he has orders to kill if you run and he has killed lots of running people.”
“And Prosby, even if you do run and escape the killing machine that is my man here, you’ll be running in Bithlo. The twitching freaks and their dog hybrids will kill you and cut you up for dinner in quick time”
To be continued ...