Employer Series #2: Your Body Goes Here

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Action and Adventure  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: August 22, 2016

A A A | A A A

Submitted: August 22, 2016




Chapter 2: Your Body Goes Here


sniff sniff


to himself as he continues to slowly regain consciousness, “The shrew must be near.” Davison is suddenly rocked with the memory of watching Janella’s brain matter spraying towards his face. He fully awakes to find himself bound and bouncing around in the back of a windowless van.

owdy there partner,” says the assumed leader as he tips his imaginary hat to the seemingly Davison remembers the man as the one who put him under. “You were out for quite some time Dovagoo! Not long enough to be worried about brain damage. However, long enough for Sanza over here to draw what I guessing is an anatomically correct uncircumcised giant’s penis on your face, and do a little butt stuff”, the man says as he returns to the front passenger’s seat, “Just kiddin about the penis.”

“He means the about the butt stuff, dont worry!” says the driver through his laugh. Davison’s gaze shifts towards the bearded aussie to his right holding a permanent marker, his scowl turns to a cheesy grin.

assumed leader, “well unless you count nixin’ that blabber mouth cow of a woman.”

He killed the shrew...technically I owe him a beer,” Davison thinks to himself as he looks around the van. Three men tower over him. The bearded aussie artist known as Sanza still kneeling to his right, one to his left, and at his feet. The one to his left donned a full ski mask and sunglasses to completely hide his identity. The man at his feet, a gigantic man with a blond buzz cut who, while even kneeling, still has to huddle almost into a ball just to fit. “I don’t think I’m the guy you think I am”, utters Davison.

“Sure you are!” chuckles the leader, now turning around to face the back, “We already established your handwriting on the app-”

“That wasn’t an application for you to come into my job and murder-” exclaims Davison before being interrupted.

position illion dollar weapon manufacturing company known as New Age Security Technology Innovations, you know N.A.S.T.I. for short. Well, you thought it was anyway. But this was actually set up by our merry little band of buddies to “hire” you to open upa s we “found” in a safety deposit box we “borrowed”.

“Can you stop with the fucking air quotes?!” exclaims Davison quickly returning to his senses, “I’m sorry I’m sorry please don’t shoot me I’ll do what ever you want…major pet peeve...sorry”

“Worry not Dovagoo, we’re all here just trying to improve our current situations. I’m trying to retire early and live like a king in a country that has no extradition laws, and you-” says the leader has he places a .45 caliber pistol to Davison’s temple, “Well you’re just trying to avoid gettin deaded up. Am I right?”

“Yes, yes, please...I’ll do whatever you want. Hard drive, yeah? I’ll open it no problem. Just please, no bullets in my person if you would be so kind!” whimpers Davison with his eyes fixated on the barrel.

“Hey now, we’re all good Dovagoo! You worry to much. I’m sure I told you before that this here is a job interview. I wanna bring you work.” says the leader with a smile, “You smoke weed?”

“Uh, ye...yeah man”, utters Davison slightly confused but still terrified.

“I mean do you wanna smoke some now? You seem a little on edge.” asks the leader, now presenting a rather large cigar stuffed with the shrubbery.

“I mean yeah man” utters Davison, now fixated on the swollen cigar.

“That’s what I’m talking about. Cut him free and sit him up!” commands the leader as he sparks the cigar and offers it forward, “If you try anything except this...mhm...wonderful gift right here, Big Ben back there is gonna eat your fuckin spine.”

“No...milk” grunts the giant with a twisted smirk.

“Why would he need milk?! Don’t get him milk!” exclaims Davison, now coughing out his woes and frustration, “We’re cool right?”

“We’re cool, for now. Keep enjoying that while I brief you on the situation.” commands the leader as he takes out another cigar and sparks up, “You see, we need a nerd guy. I mean we’re all nerds in our own ways.”

“Damn right!” Exclaims the driver now enjoying a cigar of his own.

“But none of us are the nerd guy, and our original nerd guy doesn’t breathe anymore. The FBI made damn sure his last breath tasted like lead. Now we can’t sit around and mourn our dearly departed nerd guy, no money in that, so now we have you. Now I’m not gonna lie, this job pays way more than that shit you were going for. However-”

“Bullets to my person” coughs Davison. The kind has definitely taken effect. All traces of Davison’s anxiety and fear are gone. He no longer feels like a capture being led to slaughter. He chuckles.

“Atta boy!” coughs the leader, “Now, your skills assessment is up next. Stay just as relaxed as you are now.” The van stops and the men all arm themselves with grenade launchers. “In this line of work a panicked brain is soon ventilated.” the back of the van is opened by a young man armed with an assault rifle. The sounds of gun fire erupts through the air.

“We’re clear to make a go towards the guest house but the windows closing!-” exclaims the young man taking aim at a group of officers held up behind a SUV. He jerks, his eyes roll back as an officer plants a round through his ear.

“Holy shit! His shit is done!” exclaims the entirely too high but frantic Davison, “We’re gonna die, man!”

Just as quick, Sanza leaps from the back and fires a grenade into the vehicle, setting it and the officers ablaze.

“We gonna sit here and meet this fucker at the pearly gates or we gonna make our way to the drives?!” yells Sanza as he grabs the fallen young man’s rifle and takes aim toward the guest house.

“I can’t, I can’t do it!” exclaims Davison covering his eyes, “I’m just a tech geek-” His cries are interrupted by a piercing pain in his neck. The van begins to spin. “I smell cherries...”

“Yeah, thats what they all say”, whispers the leader as he withdraws the needle from Davisons neck, “Don’t worry your little head. Big Benny’s got ya now.”



© Copyright 2017 B. Foreman. All rights reserved.

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