Hostage

Kevin worried his hands, fidgeting, clearly frightened of Mars.

'Make sure she can breathe, Mars. Don't put it so tight.'

Mars ran his fingers hard over the tape. She was so creeped out at his touch that she wanted to scream.

'Go downstairs, Kevin.'

Kevin hesitated at the door. Mars still knelt in front of her, pushing at the tape as if he wanted to work it into her pores. Pushing and pushing. Rhythmic. Pushing. Jennifer thought she might faint.

Kevin said, 'Aren't you coming?'

'I'll be along. Go.'

Jennifer looked at Kevin, pleading with him not to leave her alone with Mars.

Kevin left.

When she finally looked at Mars again, he was watching her. Mars brought his face level with hers, then leaned forward. She flinched, thinking he was going to kiss her, but he didn't. He didn't move for the longest time, staring first into her left eye, then into her right. He leaned closer, and sniffed. He was smelling her.

Mars straightened.

'I want to show you something.'

He pulled off his shirt, revealing a flabby body as pasty as an unwashed bedsheet. Tattooed across his chest in flowing script was:

A Mother's Son

'You see? It cost two hundred forty dollars. That's how much I love my mom.'

Looking at him grossed her out. His chest and belly were specked with small gray knots as if he were diseased. She thought they might be warts.

She suddenly felt the weight of his eyes and glanced up to see him watching her. She realized that he knew she had been staring at the lumps. He touched one of them, a hard gray knot, then another, and the corner of his mouth curled into a smile that was almost too small to see.

'My mom burned me with cigarettes.'

Jennifer felt sick. They weren't lumps or warts; they were scars.

Mars pulled on his shirt, then leaned close, and this time she was certain that he would touch her. Her heart pounded. She wanted to turn away, but she couldn't.

He placed his hand on her shoulder.

Jennifer jerked against her binds, twisting her head, arching her back, feeling the bite of the extension cords in her wrists and ankles as she tried to scream through the tape.

Mars squeezed her shoulder once, firmly, as if he were testing the bone beneath her flesh, and then he drew away.

Mars made the little smile again, then went to the door. He paused there, staring at her with eyes so empty that she filled them with nightmares. He turned off the lights, stepped out, then pulled the door closed. The sound of his hammer was as loud as thunder, but not so loud as her fearful heart.

DENNIS

Dennis was at the window, watching the police, when he heard the pitch of the helicopters change. That was the first thing, the helicopters repositioning themselves. Then one of the patrol cars out front fired up. The lead car swung around in a tight arc, roaring away as a new Highway Patrol car arrived. He couldn't tell if Talley was still outside or not. The cops were up to something, which made Dennis feel queasy and scared. They would have to leave soon or they might not be able to leave at all.

Mars settled onto the couch by Walter Smith. He put his hand on Smith's head as if he was stroking the soft fur between a dog's ears.

'They didn't give you the helicopter because they don't believe you're serious.'

Dennis paced away from the window, irritated. He didn't like Mars's smug I-know-something-that-you-don't smile. Mars had egged him on about robbing the minimart, and Mars had shot the cop at the front door.

'You don't know what you're talking about. They've got rules about this stuff. Fuck them anyway. I never thought we'd get a helicopter. I just thought it would be worth a try.'

Mars stroked Smith's head, running his fingers slowly over the man's scalp as if he was probing the contours of his skull. Dennis thought it was weird.

'You don't see the big picture, Dennis.'

'You want a picture, Mars? Here it is: We've gotta find a way out of here with that cash.'

Mars patted Smith's head.

'Our way out is right here. You don't understand the power we have.'

'The hostages? Jesus, they're all we have. If we didn't have these people, the cops would be all over us.'

When Mars looked up again, Dennis thought his eyes were brighter, and somehow now watchful.

'What we have is the fear they feel. Their fear gives us power. The police will only take us seriously if they're scared we'll kill these people. It isn't the people that we have to trade, Dennis. It's their death.'

Dennis thought he was kidding.

'Okay, dude. Mars, you're creeping me out.'

'The police have no reason to deal with us unless they take us seriously. All they have to do is wait until we get tired, and then we'll give up. They know that, Dennis. They're counting on it.'

Dennis felt his chest expand against a tight pressure that filled the room. Mars continued to watch him, his eyes now focused into hard, dark beads. Dennis had the vague feeling that somehow the power between them was shifting, that Mars was leading him somewhere and waiting to see if Dennis would follow.

'So how do we convince them?'