Faint of Heart by Jeff Strand Read Free Book Online

twelve-packs. "I'll put them back."
    "Don't worry about it, I'll take care of it."
    "No, no, I wouldn't want you to have to get up."
    She considered making a run for it, but that would be a terrible idea.
    Would Stephen and Alan really know if she didn't get the beer?
    She slid open the cooler, replaced the Budweiser, and almost cried out with joy as she saw the solution to her problems.
    Non-alcoholic beer.
    O'Douls was technically beer, wasn't it? And the shopping list hadn't specified which brand to purchase. This wouldn't be a violation of the rules, or at least not one where she couldn't argue her case.    
    She picked up two twelve-packs and brought them up to the front. Before the cashier could respond, she grabbed the other two twelve-packs of Budweiser, brought them back to the cooler, and exchanged them as well.
    "You know," said the cashier as she returned, "really I'm not even supposed to...never mind, you look twenty-one."
    "Thank you," she said as he rung up the purchase. Then she remembered something. "Also one hot dog."
    They looked more like beef jerky tubes than hot dogs by this point, but eating something gross was the least of her problems. The cashier placed it in a bun and handed it to her.
    She thanked him and walked to where the condiments were kept. She added squirt after squirt of mustard to the hot dog until, as per the instructions, nothing was visible but a yellow pond.
    "Mind if I eat it here?"
    "Do whatever you want, lady."
     
    * * *
     
    Rebecca set the two grocery bags on the passenger seat, opened the glove compartment, and removed the second envelope.
    It was a good thing she liked mustard, but if she'd had this much trouble with a simple shopping list, she was horrified to think what the next step might involve.

 
     
     
     
     
     
    CHAPTER EIGHT
     
     
    The second envelope contained a map, or at least a torn piece of one. There was a red circle around the town of Bleser. Aside from that, the envelope was empty.
    So Gary had made it that far, at least.
    That is, Gary had made it that far if she could trust that Stephen and Alan were playing the game fairly. If they weren't, Gary could be in pieces in the trunk right now.
    God, Rebecca, why do you do things like that to yourself? He's not in the trunk! He's alive and waiting for you to get over your pity-me attitude and rescue him!
    She got out of the car and checked the trunk.
    Of course, he wasn't in there, but she knew that if she hadn't looked, the thought of Gary chopped-up back there never would have left her mind.
    It probably still wouldn't.
    She got back in the car and began her road trip.
     
    * * *
     
    After about five miles, she turned on the radio. Being alone with her thoughts was infinitely more distracting than listening to some music. She quickly flipped through the stations until she found some mellow, relaxing music.
    She wondered if she and Gary were being mentioned on any of the radio stations, and if anybody was searching for them. After all, they hadn't shown up for work, nor had Scott and Doug returned home to their families. She had to make sure she didn't speed or break any other traffic laws, and hope that there wasn't an APB out for Gary's car.
    What if she was better off having a cop pull her over? Maybe by playing their game and following their rules, she was guaranteeing that Gary would end up dead. Maybe the best way to get out of this would be to floor the gas pedal, weave from lane to lane, and balance an open can of beer on her nose.
    No, she'd already been over that. She needed to obey the kidnappers' instructions. She'd get to talk to Gary shortly--receive proof that he was alive, anyway--and then decide where to go from there.
     
    * * *
     
    Try as she might, Rebecca couldn't keep an endless stream of grotesque images from tearing through her brain as she drove. Gary being chopped to bits. Gary drowning in blood. Gary being fed his own...she needed to stop thinking about this, or she'd go