Dave- fucking brilliant Dave. I could have kissed him. He gave the officer the
location of the lot and the description. It was perfect. After answering some
more the officers questions, he begged her once again to hurry. But already I
heard the sound of a car pulling up outside.

Dave hung up the phone. "That was too fast," he said.

"Maybe the 9-1-1 lady actually sent someone? To arrest us maybe?"

I heard a car door open, then close, then there were heavy steps. Jeff ran to
the barred hatch, "We're down here! Help! Please! We're down here!"

The footsteps were slow and deliberate overhead. I saw a pair of work boots
and dirty bluejeans appear at the top of the stairs.

Jeff stepped clumsily backwards down the stairs. He looked pale. I moved to
the base of the stairs by his side, and looked up.

He was a bear of a man. Just intimidatingly large. He was smoking a cigarette.
He stared at us without really seeing us- as if were just shirts on a hanger
and he was trying to decide which one to wear.

"Excuse me," I said. But he walked away as if he hadn't heard me.

"HEY! HEY!" I screamed as I ran up the stairs to the bars, but I could think
of nothing else to say... he walked outside.

We heard him get something heavy out of his vehicle. Then we heard him
dragging it inside. Whatever it was, he set it down with a thump.

There was some fussing about upstairs, and then we saw plastic tarp rolled
across the iron bars. moments later, the sound of duct tape.

The hatch was closed, and we were alone listening to the sounds of the man
working. Working, we were sure, on something evil. The sort of evil that is
rarely seen. The sort of evil that you don't get to tell anyone about later
on.

We heard a hissing sound- high pitched and steady.

I was confused, so was Jeff.

"Gas," said Dave. "I think he's pumping some sort of gas in here."

We ran around looking for the source. But we were lightheaded within minutes.

I heard Jeff collapse in the far corner. Dave rushed over and tried to pull
him over to me.

Dave fell 10 feet away from me, breathing shallowly, unconscious but not dead.

I heard sirens in the distance. And then there was nothing.

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If life gives you melons, you may be dyslexic.