Fifty Eight

“Shut your mouth, Cater,” Dad’s voice is different, like he is mad or something. Why are they here? I grab my recorder and turn it on; I’m sure I can get some information from them. I don’t know what it is yet, but the fact that the three of them are here might as well get some information.

“Whatever,” he said, and pulled out a thick paper from his bag. “This is the list, their addresses, and their parents. Most of them are runaways, some of them are orphans, so we won’t be having any problem. I have them gathered at the warehouse; the auction will begin tomorrow midnight,” he said.

I’m confused right now. What are they talking about, an auction of what? Is that an illegal auction? Auction of what? Stolen things? Nah, that would be too cheap or might be low class. It must be something that you can’t just buy outside like the usual. What are they selling? Guns?

“My son,” Dad said, “You never fail to make me proud. You really know how to do your job fast and clean. Is this all set?”