The steel that Danny saw in the young lady that he thought of as merely whiny eye candy a few hours ago began to frighten him more than a little. He kept telling himself that it was more than likely going to end up killing them both, but as every minute ticked by it didn't. Sure the guy looked more than a little pissed off and frankly Danny couldn't blame him. Still, everyone continued to draw breath. He relaxed his shoulders. That was when the snout of that menacing pistol smacked him on the right side of his head.
"You will tell me whatever I ask you." Jacobi looked down on the mewling little boy that now lie bleeding onto the hard linoleum of the shop. The pistol came up, its finish now marred by a slick of red and you couldn't have drawn a straighter line between it's dark throat and Danny's ear with a surveyor's precision.
A lump formed in Marla's throat. Thankfully it blocked the mocking laugh that threatened to come at the same time. She didn't like Danny, not one bit. She didn't want him dead, but the idea that his life held a great deal of meaning at this particular juncture seemed ludicrous to her for some reason. Not ordinarily a cynic by any stretch, her own attitude surprised her almost as much as it had surprised Danny. Still, Mom had said for years that it was just like she had been spat out of her father's mouth. And dear old dead was every inch and ounce a cynical man. "I will tell you what I can, when it suits me." Her voice sounded thick and on the verge of tears. "You'll kill us both anyway, so threatening him doesn't do you a damn bit of good."
A veil of pain and darkness covered most of Danny's senses. It's like he imagined listening for a train by putting your ear to the cold metal of the track would be. Unfortunately for him, the train had come and danced on his head. He heard and understood Marla's words and wanted to stand screaming in defense of his own life. He couldn't deny the truth in what she said though, what he understood of it. Standing wasn't in his near future and the pool of warmth under his head became tacky. Stay awake, he said to himself. Falling asleep with his brains all about him on the floor was bad form. A giggle nearly came out when he thought that.
"Fine then. We'll play it your way for now. You're right in that I do need you alive. For now." He over enunciated the last two words just a bit. "I don't need him particularly, but having you both walking suits me for now."
The two fully conscious members of this little gathering simply stared at one another and waited for what was to come. Marla surpassed a sigh that would have been as treacherous as her earlier laugh. One disaster averted. Who knew how many more to go?
