The Spy's Little Zonbi by Cole Alpaugh Page B

the job and stole their credit.”
    The look Chase gave Mack was as innocent as possible. Then he glanced down at the place on his right hand, where he’d had to scrub a spot of indelible ink with the rough soap they used in the press room.
    â€œ Those boys get to drinking and some dangerous ideas get thrown around,” the agent said.
    â€œ Like poisoning a chicken farm,” said Mack.
    â€œ That’s right,” said the agent. “And we’re thinking that everyone in the media should take a little more care to double-check their locks at night and keep an eye on their pets.”
    ***
    During the second week of August, just as the temperature and humidity started evening out in the low nineties on the Eastern Shore, WAWA Captain Early Wayne nervously dropped coins into a gas station payphone and began to dial.
    â€œ City desk.” The voice on the other end was tired, disinterested.
    Wayne reached into left front pocket for the handful of marbles he’d stolen from his little boy’s collection. He shoved them into his mouth and worked them into his cheeks.
    â€œ We have Shockley,” Wayne said into the phone. From the video store he’d rented and watched all four movies that involved kidnapping. “You have twenty-four hours to come up with fifty thousand dollars in small, unmarked bills.”
    â€œ What?”
    â€œ Or Shockley dies!”
    â€œ Buddy,” said the older male voice on the other end. “Spit out the marbles and try again. I can’t understand a word you’re sayin’.”
    Wayne nearly dropped the receiver. His heart thundered in his chest and his hands shook as he scanned the parking lot for cop cars. Was he being watched? How did the guy know he just jammed his mouth with a handful of marbles? Kidnapping, extortion, and they surely knew all about the animal porn. He’d never see his family again. But no SWAT team came swooping in with weapons pointed. Not a single blue light turned circles in the parking lot of the Exxon station that was about to close for the night. It began to dawn on Wayne that he probably just sounded like he had marbles in his mouth. His heart slowed as he dropped his chin and let the little glass orbs spill out, bouncing off his work boots. He cleared his throat.
    â€œ We want fifty grand or Shockley dies,” Wayne told the man.
    â€œ Fifty grand, huh?”
    Emboldened, Wayne strayed from his notes for added effect. “Or this time tomorrow he’ll be swimmin’ with the fishes.”
    There was a pause and Wayne was sure he could hear the man lighting a cigarette and taking a deep drag. That was a good sign. He had him shaken. Wayne patted his pockets for his own pack.
    â€œ Look, buddy, I don’t know what bar you’re callin’ from, but Shockley’s right here. Hold on.”
    It wasn’t possible. He’d left Shockley hogtied back in the basement of the WAWA meeting hall not fifteen minutes ago.
    There was a click on the other end of the phone. “Limp here,” said the voice. “I work for chocolate, so you better be sweet.”
    Early Wayne ran for his idling pickup, the receiver still swinging at the end of its metal cord. In eight minutes he was taking the meeting hall basement stairs three at a time.
    â€œ Where’s the fire, Early?” Some of the guys were playing poker around a folding card table as Wayne darted past. He knocked over half the empties, breaking a couple on the concrete floor.
    Wayne pulled up in front of their captive in the dim end of the basement, hands on his knees, gasping for breath. Limp Shockley was tied every which way and hadn’t budged from the old wooden chair.
    â€œ What’s got into you, Early? Everything’s been quiet as could be.”
    Wayne reached out for the Agway corn sack covering Shockley’s head and slowly lifted it up. The duct tape over his mouth had turned into a weird, robot-like