“THIS ISN’T FUNNY ANYMORE,” Steve Meacham said to the two boys, wincing1 as Hawk2 jammed the gun between his shoulder blades.
“Go stand by your wife, Mr. M.,” said Hawk. “This is kind of a scavenger3 hunt, you know? We’re not going to hurt you guys. Not unless you make us.”
Meacham went to his wife’s side, looking at each of the two guns in turn, sending his mind toward his own gun, which was wrapped in a towel at the top of the linen4 closet. He glanced at Sandy’s face, saw that she was sobering up, trying to figure out what was happening.
He wished he knew.
He turned back to Pidge, said, “This is just a fraternity prank5, right, fellas?”
“Yes, sir,” Hawk said at his back. “I need you both to lie on the floor, facedown.”
“Well, I’m not going to do that, you crazy boy,” Sandy said, whipping her head around, eyes flashing furiously. “Get out of here, both of you, now, and tell Scotty I want to hear from him tonight, I don’t care what time -”
Pidge walked behind Sandy, cocked his arm, and whacked6 her on the back of the head with the gun butt7. Sandy yowled, went down into a crouch8, hands covering her head. Steven saw blood seep9 between her fingers. Steven started toward Sandy, but the chilling metallic10 clicks of hammers being cocked stopped him where he stood.
Steven wanted to keep denying the wordless terror that was flooding his mind - but he couldn’t block it out anymore. These kids were going to kill them - unless, somehow . . .
“I don’t want to shoot you, lady,” Pidge said. “Drop all the way to the floor. You, too, buddy11. Hurry up now.”
Steven got to his knees, pleaded. “We’ll do what you say. Take it all,” he said. “Take everything we have. Just don’t, please, don’t hurt us.”
“Good attitude,” Pidge said, shoving Sandy Meacham to the floor with his foot, standing12 behind her as her husband lay facedown on the Persian carpet.
“Hands behind your backs, if you’ll be so kind,” Pidge said. He took a reel of fishing line out of his back pocket, wrapped the monofilament fiber13 tightly around the Meachams’ wrists. Then he tugged14 off their shoes, stripped off Sandy’s socks, and began winding15 fishing line around Steven Meacham’s ankles.
“I’ll let you in on something,” Pidge said. “Actually, we’re not fraternity types like Scotty.” He tugged down Sandy’s elastic-waisted pants and underwear in one motion. Sandy yelped16.
“Where’s your safe, Mr. M.? What’s the combination?” Hawk asked.
“We don’t have a safe,” Meacham said.
“Hawk, go back upstairs,” said Pidge. “I’ll keep these folks company.”
He slapped Sandy’s buttocks playfully, laughing as Meacham cried out, “There’s some money inside the humidor on my dresser. You can have it. Take it all!”
Pidge turned up the TV volume to high, balled Sandy’s socks, jammed a woolen17 gag into each of the Meachams’ mouths. As Sandy whimpered and squirmed, he slapped her buttocks again, this time almost tenderly; then reluctantly, Pidge tied her ankles together with the fishing line. That done, he broke the neck of the second bottle of Cointreau against the mantelpiece. He poured liquor on a pile of newspapers by the upholstered chair, into a basket of yarn18, doused19 the Meachams’ hair and their clothing, Meacham shouting against the sock in his mouth, starting to gag.
“I wouldn’t do that,” Pidge said, reasonably. “You could drown on your own vomit20. That would be nasty, bud.”
Hawk came down the stairs into the living room, a cigar in his mouth, jangling a lumpy pillowcase.
“Swag,” he said, grinning. “About five grand in the humidor. Oh, and I got a book.”
Pidge bent21 to Sandy Meacham, who was moaning half naked at his feet. He twisted the diamond rings off her fingers, then shouted into Steven Meacham’s ear.
“What is it you people like to say? Living well is the best revenge? Well, enjoy your revenge. And thanks for the stuff.”
“Ready?” Hawk asked.
Pidge finished writing the inscription22 and capped the pen.
“Veni, vidi, vici, bro,” Pidge said, lighting23 matches and dropping them where he’d poured the Cointreau.
VOOOOOOM.
Flames flared24 up around the room. Smoke billowed, darkening the air. The Meachams couldn’t see the two young men wave good-bye as they left by the front door.
1 wincing | |
赶紧避开,畏缩( wince的现在分词 ) | |
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2 hawk | |
n.鹰,骗子;鹰派成员 | |
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3 scavenger | |
n.以腐尸为食的动物,清扫工 | |
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4 linen | |
n.亚麻布,亚麻线,亚麻制品;adj.亚麻布制的,亚麻的 | |
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5 prank | |
n.开玩笑,恶作剧;v.装饰;打扮;炫耀自己 | |
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6 whacked | |
a.精疲力尽的 | |
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7 butt | |
n.笑柄;烟蒂;枪托;臀部;v.用头撞或顶 | |
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8 crouch | |
v.蹲伏,蜷缩,低头弯腰;n.蹲伏 | |
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9 seep | |
v.渗出,渗漏;n.渗漏,小泉,水(油)坑 | |
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10 metallic | |
adj.金属的;金属制的;含金属的;产金属的;像金属的 | |
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11 buddy | |
n.(美口)密友,伙伴 | |
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12 standing | |
n.持续,地位;adj.永久的,不动的,直立的,不流动的 | |
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13 fiber | |
n.纤维,纤维质 | |
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14 tugged | |
v.用力拉,使劲拉,猛扯( tug的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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15 winding | |
n.绕,缠,绕组,线圈 | |
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16 yelped | |
v.发出短而尖的叫声( yelp的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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17 woolen | |
adj.羊毛(制)的;毛纺的 | |
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18 yarn | |
n.纱,纱线,纺线;奇闻漫谈,旅行轶事 | |
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19 doused | |
v.浇水在…上( douse的过去式和过去分词 );熄灯[火] | |
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20 vomit | |
v.呕吐,作呕;n.呕吐物,吐出物 | |
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21 bent | |
n.爱好,癖好;adj.弯的;决心的,一心的 | |
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22 inscription | |
n.(尤指石块上的)刻印文字,铭文,碑文 | |
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23 lighting | |
n.照明,光线的明暗,舞台灯光 | |
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24 Flared | |
adj. 端部张开的, 爆发的, 加宽的, 漏斗式的 动词flare的过去式和过去分词 | |
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