Chapter 2
He woke up in his living room. It was two-thirty according to the VCR clock. His feet and legs were bound with duct tape and his mouth was as well. He heard feet shuffle in the kitchen directly behind him. He made a muffled cry and the two men in the kitchen passed through into the living room and sat down in front of him.
They were dressed in blue jeans and flannel shirts. One had stubble on his face and the other had a full grown beard.
The man to Jeff's right was a short Hispanic man who had tattoos on his neck and most likely throughout his chests and arms as well.
He spoke first:
"Well, it looks like ours new friend iz finally awake. Howz dat bumb on ur head doin'?" He said with a sarcastic chuckle. He smelled of beer, no doubt that through raiding the kitchen they stumbled across the alcohol.
"We don't mean you any harm, guy. So, just cooperate and we'll be gone soon enough." Spoke the other man. He was about twenty-five, tall, skinny, with brown hair and eyes.
It finally made sense where he had seen them. Before, when he went to the store this morning he had driven by them on the road. He looked them over and realized that they must be the other two fugitives from the prison twenty miles away.
"Your not going to give us any trouble, right, partner?" Spoke the second man again.
Jeff nodded.
"Okay then." He got up and went into the kitchen, the other following.
He sat there and listened as they drank more beer and decided what they were going to do next.
"Listen, this note says that the mother is gonna be home late," spoke the Hispanic man, "So, Jim I say we wait for her to get home and tie her up and then we can get a head start. I'm gonna go see what types of clothes this kid wears and get showered up and shave. Watch the kid, okay?" He asked.
"Got it. And Tim, try and find out if they got some more clothes for me too, okay?" Asked the bigger of the two.
He watched the shadows as they projected onto the living room wall from the kitchen. The smaller of the shadows began to walk down the hallway towards the stair case. Jim came in and sat down in the recliner with another beer and turned on the television.
He sat in awe of all of the changes that talk shows have made over the past decade and the success of computers. After a half hour of searching for something on television Tim came back into the living room, handing a pair of the father's old pants and a t-shirt to Jim. He also tossed him a beard trimmer.
Time once again disappeared and emerged a new man twenty minutes later. Clean shaven, showered and dressing in some of Jeff's black jeans and a black AC/DC t-shirt.
He went to the refrigerator and brought back a case of hard lemonade and propped himself up in front of the television. Jim went into the bathroom and he too sat in front of the television with a neatly trimmed beard. It was 3:40.
They spent the afternoon drinking and eating while sitting in front of the television. They ignored Jeff and became gradually more and more intoxicated. At five o'clock a car door opened and closed outside, waking them from their drunken stupor. By now Jeff couldn't move his legs and his back ached badly.
They got up and ran towards the door. The figure of a woman was silhouetted outside the front door. The shadow was carrying a pocket book and a set of keys. The keys went into the lock and the door opened. She stepped into the foyer and turned on the light.
"Jeff, the lawn looks great!" She exclaimed as the lights went on.
There was a scream, a struggle and the sound of shuffling feet.