Bunny slipped out of bed and got to his feet. The only light in the cell came from the night sky outside and some low-level emergency lighting on the landing. First things first, he indulged himself in some long and blissful urination.
When he looked back over at the beds, he saw a pair of eyes staring at him from the top bunk. Well, at least that solved one of the issues that’d been bothering Bunny. How best to wake up a sleeping, soul-stealing, psychopathic cannibal? Putting his hand over the lad’s mouth seemed like a dreadful idea, in case he felt peckish. Then Bunny remembered which part of the anatomy the leader of Azura 13 had mentioned, and he quickly popped himself back inside his boxer shorts. Suddenly, they felt very scant.
He washed his hands in the sink and then held a finger to his lips in the universally acknowledged sign for “keep quiet”. Bunny took a couple of steps forward. “I’m a friend. I need to talk to you.”
Breida’s eyes went wide and he pulled the sheet over his head. “No.”
“Ehm …” Bunny was thrown. He’d been expecting a cold, silent stare or being told to fuck off. A thought struck him. “Oh, it’s OK. The camera’s off. My friends and I, we’ve been sent by the Ratenda Cartel to get you out.”
After a moment, the sheet moved and the top of a bald head and an eye became visible in the dim light.
“Honestly, it’s OK.”
The voice, when it spoke, came in a soft whisper. “I have to ask Mr Pie.”
Bunny looked around nervously. “We don’t really have time for you to …”
He trailed off as a teddy bear appeared from behind Breida’s bulk and then disappeared under the sheet with him. After a few moments of whispering, Breida’s large bald head reappeared. “He says it is OK.”
Bunny nodded. “Right. Good.”
And now this didn’t make sense in a whole new way.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Warden Dean Hanzus lay fast asleep in his king-sized bed in the rather nice, colonial-style house in Cedar Falls where he lived alone. Cedar Falls was a gated community pitched at the more discerning professional. One who appreciated privacy and security.
It enjoyed a twenty-four-hour guard and sophisticated alarms, and Warden Hanzus, being a man who knew a lot about such things, had offered his services to the residents’ association to ensure this. He had got them a rather good deal on a perimeter alarm system from one of America’s premier companies, in exchange for Cedar Falls being featured in the marketing brochures. People had been very impressed. Hanzus had hoped it would get him the plum job of head of the residents’ association but sadly it had not been meant to be. Carol Baker got it because she made cookies. People had messed-up priorities.
Still, given his unofficial role as security consultant for the complex, he was disappointed on numerous levels to wake up that night to find a strange woman straddling him.
It was, ironically, the most action the bed had seen. Despite his attempts to be “active” on the dating scene, Hanzus was having a great deal of difficulty meeting the right woman or, for that matter, any woman. He attributed it to several things: his obvious dedication to his work, which meant that potential mates felt there wasn’t a lot of room in his life; his accursed male-pattern baldness, which he had been endeavouring to deal with in recent years through state-of-the-art hair-replacement technology; and his more thoughtful nature, in contrast to the brasher and more showy nature of many other men in the area.
His mother, for her part, often made the point during their twice monthly calls that didn’t he think it was perhaps “the snake thing”? He had dismissed that out of hand. Women loved animals. The statistics backed him up on this.
If anything, his mother’s oft-stated wish for grandchildren was looking less and less likely. Recently, Hanzus had taken himself off Tinder. A date had expressed interest in seeing his snake and, well, there had been a fundamental and highly regrettable misunderstanding. It had led to a semi-naked woman fleeing his house, and Doug on the front gate having to dial through to enquire about what was going on.
Carol Baker had loved that, the cookie-wielding witch. She’d added a note to the weekly neighbourhood email about how residents should make sure that guests left the community in a dignified manner. Her unwritten point being, as opposed to them leaving topless, screaming about lunatics with snakes. Hanzus was going to have to miss the next couple of residents’ meetings.
The woman straddling him was remarkably attractive. A brunette Latina with piercing blue eyes and full lips, and she was beaming a cheerful smile down at him. Unfortunately, she was also holding a handgun, pressed hard into his forehead.
“Good evening, Warden Hanzus.”
The voice was not that of the woman. It was rich, sonorous, and masculine. It was a voice that Hanzus had been worried about having a conversation with for the last couple of days. It appeared to be coming from a seat in the corner of the room. Hanzus couldn’t raise his head to confirm this thanks to the aforementioned gun.
“I suggest you do not make any sudden movements. My associate’s name is Lola. Do not let her appearance fool you. She kills people for money and she is remarkably good at it. She has done it on behalf of governments including your own, criminal organisations, and, if rumours are to be believed, quite often just for fun. If you believe the scuttlebutt, she has killed more men than many tropical diseases have.”
The woman continued to beam down at him. If anything, her smile grew wider as the voice ran through her résumé.
“I strongly suggest you
