Sixty-Nine

SIXTY-NINE

They parked in the middle of the front yard. Positioned at the intersection between house, shed, and driveway. Nothing moved except for the thick towers of clouds upon clouds above them.

Inside the bus, the passengers watched their driver stand and look through the windshield. Searching.

Sarah and Diana poised for action. Jack took Julia’s pen and gripped it tight, ready to stab.

The engine ticked.

Liz’s eyes moved from the shed she associated with her brother to her home. Stillness there. She leaned forward and took the gun from its place on the seat cover.

The fan blades spun a final time, and then came to a grating halt.

Jack didn’t breathe. Couldn’t. She’ll open the door, he predicted, taking pride in his calculation, and when she does, we’ll pounce. But we have to wait until she’s down the first step.

Catch the cunt on uneven ground.

Liz flicked the door release switch. It clattered open. Heat rolled into the cabin, up over her exposed legs, drafted through her