“I told him he couldn’t trust you,” said Kranuski from the corridor. “You just won me fifty bucks.” I turned around, not even surprised. The burly Alton Webb was with him, holding a flashlight. “Why not a million?” I asked. “It’s all Monopoly money now. Where’s Cowper?” Webb roughly grabbed me by the arm, saying, “Come on, we’ll take you to him.” When I broke his grip and tried to use some of the other techniques I’d learned in self-defense class, he caught me much harder, and grunted, “Keep it up, and I’ll break it.” “Why are you doing this?” I cried in pain. I couldn’t believe they were laying hands on me. “There’s been enough child’s play on this boat.” Webb dragged me forward to a small round hatch and held me tight while Kranuski opened it up. I knew from my studies that this was the terminal end of the CCSM deck—beyond was hydraulic machinery, then the great sonar dome at the bow. It was cold and dark in there. “I’ll be goddamned if I’m going to keep up this charade,”
What do You think about Xombies: Apocalypse Blues?
