Page 37 - EAMMV3

NICHOLAS BOOTHMAN
The truck revved up, scrunched into gear, and
stopped by the repair bay door. The driver got out. He
was short and fit, with brown skin, brown hair, and
brown eyes. He sidled over to Miriam, glaring at her.
The old man stood back. The rest of the men hopped
down from the back of the truck and surrounded them.
“Well, what have we here today?” The driver spoke
very slowly. “Tourists. Oh, dear me. Bad news, indeed.
For you.” He stepped inside Miriam’s personal space.
She tried to back up but was jammed against the car.
“What are you doing out here lady? At night? In the
dark?” Miriam was terrified. The driver backed off,
walked around the Golf and met Mark face-to-face.
“Fuel mismanagement, eh?”
Mark backed up.
“Is that it?” The driver pushed into him. “Assuming
the engine has enough fuel to continue running,” the
man snorted. “Shame on you. Bad management.”
The other men started laughing.
The driver turned to face his men. “Right. Grab
them. Put them in the truck.”
Mark was ready to go down fighting. Miriam’s legs
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