A bit of “fun” from my forthcoming novel, “Tempest Road.”
Hands lock on MacLeod’s ankles and pull, and he is roughly dragged across the vehicle’s floor.
“Hey you, Yankee. Are you going to behave for us?”
He nods obediently, the warm, moist air under his chin exchanged for coolness. He must be soaked.
Hands pull him to sit upright.
“Are you? If not—” There’s a click and a loud hiss nearby, above him.
Someone laughs. The awful hissing approaches, coupled with a strange, foul brightness.
What in Hades is that?!
“Acetylene,” a man says, intuiting his thoughts. “You know what that is? It takes the number off the engine block. It can do other things, too.”
MacLeod shakes his head. The noise and light seem far too close.