See Tom Run (10 page)

Tom braced himself and awaited the gunshot. He wanted
to say a silent prayer but didn’t have time—

“Bang!” Chappy cried. “You’re dead!”

All three broke out laughing.

Tom stared up at Chappy warily, trying to get a read
on the demented sadist. What makes this scary son of a bitch tick?
he wondered.

“Not quite yet, Tommy-Boy. We aren’t gonna let ya off
that easy, are we blokes?”

“Not even,” Bummer said.

“Nope, Tommy. I’m afraid that you’ve just earned
yourself some real pain. Now, get the hell up and I mean now, not
tomorrow!”

Tom managed to get up onto his feet, his shin
writhing in pain as he did so.

“Let’s get the hell out of this morbid place. Lead
the way toward the street, Tommy-Boy. And don’t try anything funny
or believe me, I’ll shoot your balls off one by one before I
totally waste you.”

Tom stumbled toward the window and climbed out onto
the sidewalk. He was so whipped now that he could only pray for
salvation when they finally killed him.

“Let’s take him back to camp, boys.
I’ve just got an idea and it is freaking
brilliant!”

“What is it, Chappy?” Bummer asked excitedly.

“Oh, I’m afraid it’s just too good to give up right
now, lads. But I can tell ya this—Tommy is gonna be in a for a
howling good time when we get back!”

“Shit, Chappy—give us a hint, anyway,” Hoops
pleaded.

“Hmm. Well, let’s just say that we may have our other
guest put on a real nice show for Tommy-Boy here. A show that I
think he’ll enjoy beaucoup!”

The three had drawn up alongside and Tom glanced over
at Chappy. A sinister smile came to his face as Bummer exclaimed
excitedly, “Oh shit, man—I think I got a pretty good idea what
you’re talking about. Too freaking awesome, dude!”

The mention of this “other guest” made Tom wonder
whom they might be referring to. Could it be Erin? Was it possible?
If so, then what had happened to Kyle? Or maybe the guest was Kyle
and Erin hadn’t been caught yet.

He needed to find out.

“Who is your other guest?”

The moment he spoke the last word, Tom felt something
crash into his ribcage.

“Silence, Tommy-Boy! It is none of your goddamn
business and you had best keep your trap shut if you know what’s
good for you. You don’t have any idea how close I am to maiming you
with this piece. Are you getting the picture, mate? Or do I need to
prove that I mean business here?”

Tom glanced over at Chappy, not sure if he should
answer or not. He nodded instead.

“There you go, man. And let’s just keep it shut until
I say so.”

They had returned to where the Jeep was parked; but
instead of stopping they moved past it. A moment later, Tom saw the
vehicle they had apparently arrived in and did a double take.

Parked in the middle of the street was a shiny black
Cadillac hearse, complete with curtained windows.

“What do ya think of our wheels, Tommy? Not many
miles to a tank of petrol but nice and roomy!”

Tom gasped, but remained silent.

“Let’s put Tommy in the back, Hoops. Along with the
stiff.”

Tom glanced in horror at Chappy. The boy suddenly
broke into laughter. “Just kidding, Tommy-Boy! No coffin back
there, I promise!”

Hoops took Tom around to the rear of the hearse and
opened the tailgate. He gestured for him to climb in, no small task
while wearing handcuffs. He managed to wrestle himself in and lie
down on his side in the rear compartment, his head resting forward.
Hoops slammed the tailgate door shut and came around to the side.
All three of them got in with Bummer driving, Chappy in the front
passenger seat and Hoops in the backseat.

“We forgot the iBook,” Hoops said after Bummer fired
up the V8.

“Go get it—and the cell phone,” Chappy ordered.

Bummer pulled up beside the Jeep, Hoops hopped out,
gathered up the items and got back in.

“To camp, James,” Chappy ordered.

Bummer floored it, laid a patch and sped east on
Thirty-Fourth. Tom’s vision was partially obstructed by the
hearse’s curtained windows but he caught a quick glance of the
Empire State Building as Bummer zoomed past it.

A few minutes later, the hearse swung a left onto
what looked to be Park Avenue. Bummer slowed down a little as Tom
peeled his eyes through the curtain in an effort to get a fix on
where they were going.

“What we gonna do about that heap, Chappy?” he heard
Hoops say.

“Oh hell, I don’t know. It’s in really bad
shape—about all it’s good for is petrol. That poor bloke was about
as worthless as they come, eh?”

Bummer replied, “No shit. Crap car, no good stuff
except that cheap .22 and nothing but attitude. Sweet hot lady,
though.”

“
Sweet
is an absolute understatement,
Bum! That hottie is gonna provide us with many a premium ride—makes
me willy stiff just thinking about her!”

All three chortled.

“Jesus, damn—our own white slave anytime we want her!
But just wait’ll she gets a shot at my throbbin’ johnson! She won’t
want shit to do with you lily-white punks after that!” Hoops
exclaimed.

“Hate to break it to you, mate, but size isn’t
everything. English charm and incredible longevity will have her
crawlin’ back for more from yours truly,” Chappy said.

Then Bummer chimed in, “Screw both
of you! Did you see the way she was looking at me after I made
mincemeat of her boyfriend? That was the look of
respect!
She wanted to
give it to me that very minute! Well, maybe once she got over the
fact that I’d just split her loverboy’s skull in two, that is. But
I swear that whole goddamn whupping turned her sweet ass
on!”

“Bummer, you are one sick dude,” Hoops declared.

“Screw you, Hoops!”

Tom’s mind was reeling as he felt
the hearse begin to slow down again.
Erin!
he thought. And Kyle! They had
to be talking about Erin and Kyle! Who else could it be?

“Well here we are—home sweet home,” Chappy announced.
“Let’s get Tommy-Boy out of this crypt and show him our humble
abode.”

Tom squinted his eyes to see where they were. It
looked like they were still on Park Avenue.

Hoops came around to open the tailgate.

“Out, Tommy.”

Tom scooted on his ass toward the rear of the hearse
and sat on the bumper long enough take in the surroundings—

The hearse was pulled up in front of 301 Park
Avenue—The Waldorf-Astoria!

As Tom let out a gasp, Chappy came around and pulled
him on to his feet.

“So what do ya think, Tommy-Boy?”

“I’m speechless,” was all Tom could say. The mere
thought of these skuzzy delinquents inhabiting one of the world’s
most elegant hotels was inconceivable.

“You freaking should be,” Chappy replied. “And let’s
keep it that way.”

Chappy shoved Tom forward as they headed for the
entrance of the famous Waldorf. Bummer held the door open and Tom
was unable to remain silent after seeing the inside. “Where is all
of the light coming from?”

Chappy glared at him and Tom saw murder in his eyes
for speaking out of turn. The English boy’s misguided pride,
however, prevailed.

“Backup generators, Tommy. Practically everything in
this place is fully functional. And quite comfortable, I might
add.”

Tom squinted as he took in the elegant beauty of the
Waldorf’s lobby, bathed in light. A huge crystal chandelier cast
delicate jewels of reflected light onto the marble floor. The
stunning effect of the lush lobby lighting was a study in contrasts
from the dark foreboding world he’d just left outside.

“Hungry, Tommy?” Chappy asked offhandedly.

Tom could eat a horse. “Starving.”

“Too freaking bad!” he quipped and giggled his
girlish giggle. “Can’t feed ya, I’m afraid. But I’ll tell ya what I
can do for you while my mates and I enjoy a little snack.”

Tom saw Bummer grin a moronic grin out of the corner
of his eye. Tom simply stood there and braced himself for whatever
came next.

“This way, please,” Chappy said, taking Tom by the
arm and leading him across the lobby. “I have a special place for
you to gather your thoughts and ponder the meaning of life.”

He led Tom over to a pair of doors located at the far
side of the lobby as Bummer and Hoops followed behind.

“You’re roommate awaits you.” Chappy announced as he
swung open the doors.

What Tom saw nearly made him vomit.

Suspended by a wire cable attached to a chandelier on
one end and wrapped around the wrists of his outstretched arms on
the other was, or what used to be, Erin’s boyfriend Kyle. He was
totally nude and covered from head to toe in crimson trails of
blood. His skull was shattered in several places, swollen to twice
its original size and horribly disfigured—presumably Bummer’s
handiwork.

Kyle had been used as a human piñata and now
resembled a slaughtered animal hanging in a butcher shop.

Tom stared for a moment in horror then turned away.
Chappy immediately pushed him into the room so hard that he fell to
the floor.

“Take a good look at this luckless wretch, Tommy-Boy!
Now you see what happens to intruders to our domain! And this piece
of crap actually had the nerve to call me a ‘limey asshole’—imagine
that! Before I could recover from this untimely insult Bummer was
on the bloke quicker than flies on shit, worked him over real good
with his crowbar. Couldn’t bring myself to stop him, actually.

I’d be lying if I told you I didn’t enjoy watching
this worthless shit being turned into hamburger by my loyal mate.
Loved every minute of it, in fact!”

Tom’s shoulder winced in pain from the fall. He sat
for a moment and stared up at the three misfits standing before
him, wondering where Erin was at this moment. The last thing he
wanted to do was let on to them that he knew Kyle and Erin; that
much he was sure of.

“Why is he—” Tom began to ask.

“Strung up?” Chappy finished the question for him.
“Let’s just say that we had a little fun with the bastard before
Bummer finished him off and leave it at that. You’ll know the rest
soon enough.”

Tom gulped. He had nearly forgotten that he was a
condemned man—or maybe he didn’t want to remember after seeing Kyle
hanging from the ceiling like a sacrificed animal.

Have to find Erin and get the holy
hell out of here!
he thought. He did not
want to stick around long enough to find out ‘the rest.’

“Well Tommy-Boy, I’m getting pretty hungry so we’ll
leave you here so you can and your new friend can ‘hang out’
together until we finish eating. When we come back, you are in for
one big surprise!”

I can hardly wait, Tom thought. Chappy led the other
two out of the room and the doors swung shut behind them. He heard
the click of a deadbolt and the muffled sound of their chuckles as
they left him there in this death chamber.

Tom tried not to look up at Kyle as he got to his
feet and began casing out the room for some way out.

CHAPTER 10

The room was cavernous and may have been used for
banquets or as a meeting room—he’d never been in the Waldorf and
could only guess the room’s purpose. He was aware that the historic
site had a rich past and had played host to a number of balls and
similar get-togethers for socialites and countless big names
throughout history.

Tom knew he didn’t have much time—Chappy and the boys
could be back any minute—so he sprinted along the perimeter of the
room, checking every door for a possible escape route. He was
forced to turn with his back toward each door in order to turn the
doorknobs since his hands were still cuffed behind him. It didn’t
take long for to discover that every door in the huge room was
locked securely.

Since he was trapped inside, his only chance for
survival would be to make a break for it through the main doors
when the lynch mob returned. He may need a weapon, though—

If he could just get these fricking handcuffs off…

He stored this fantasy away on his wish list and
looked around for a weapon, well aware that there was little he
could do without the full use of his hands and arms. Noticing how
the silverware was wrapped inside the neatly folded linen napkins,
he went over to one of the tables and turned his back against it,
managed to grasp an enveloped silverware packet in his left hand
and pulled out a serrated dinner knife with his right. Pretty weak
defense against a .44 magnum or a crowbar but better than
nothing.

Next, he looked around for a suitable table to hide
under. Fortunately, they were all large with white tablecloths
draped over them that fell nearly all the way to the floor. This
would enable him to conceal himself fairly easily under any one of
them. He moved toward the entrance and searched for the best
vantage point. If he were to hide under a table perhaps fifteen
feet away and to either side of the door, he just might be able to
sneak out past the punks before they had a chance to realize what
was happening.

Which he realized was a long shot at best.

Suddenly, he heard voices outside that were getting
louder. He scurried over to one of the tables, crouched down onto
his knees, fell onto his right side, then scooted in under the
table. He noticed in despair that the tablecloth was still flapping
in the breeze when he heard the sound of the doors fly open.

“We’re back, Tommy!” Chappy shouted in his signature
cockney accent. “I certainly hope that you and our— What’s this? I
don’t see you Tommy-Boy! Oh, Tommy, Tommy, Tommy—it’s really not a
good idea for you to try to hide from us. It is definitely going to
make your demise all the more painful!”