So his fukin bitch of a girl wouldn`t fuck. I told him, make her -that`s what us guys do," Sam was rambling. "So the dyke dumps 'em, like what the fuck? He's better off without her - you know."
Sam was leaning drunkinly on Beverly.
Zack, who was, without knowing it, staring into her boobs (having just downed his 12th beer), nodded. "Wwhast would Ido withowt mys pal?"
Him listening to an jerk like Sam. Well maybe the army would straighten Sam out, and Greg, who was drooling over a floozy on his side.
It wasn't gonna kill them. But she was falling for Zack.
She felt sorry for Zack, a generally honest guy, who didn't party much, trying to make good. She and wondered what would happen when he woke up in the morning - a soldier.
Not that there was anything wrong with that. But what kind, she didn't know or had the least idea. There was something strange about the whole program. And those two MP's. But it couldn't be that bad. And a job's a job.
"Sam, do you have a pen, sexy?" she said. "Then use mine."
She produced three papers and a large pen.
Sam signed on the dotted line, drunkenly Zack followed his pal's lead.
"Are you chicken?" she asked Greg.
"Noways," and he signed his.
"Goodbye Sam, Greg."
The MP's dropped the girls they had picked up. They wore caps which covered most of their ears, and although as young as Greg and Sam, sported a heavy shadow on their jaw. They boots that were almost ridiculously large.
They put gloves over their large and hairy hands, and lumbered over to the dark corner.
"Come on guys," one sighed. "You're gonna be one of us now."
"Yeah, Reddick," said the other. "Let's do it."
With a swift movement the large, ungainly men, with an almost superhuman strength, cuffed and gagged Sam and Greg, pushing them out into a back room.
The one named Reddick showed a surprised waitress his badge. "AWOL"
"AWOL" muttered Zack to Beverly, tottering to his feet.
"They're soldiers, they should have been at base a couple minutes ago."
"Them guys? Since whens?," Zack gave a manly laugh that quickly subsided into a drunken giggle. "Imagine our country relying on Sam."
"I'm sorry," said Beverly, standing up and kissing Zack.
Zack looked down at his paper, a realization coming over his drunken mind.
"Why?"
"Money"
The one called Reddick returned, and, with the same superhuman agility, cuffed Zack.
"Wait, let him go," said Beverly.
She suddenly grasped the burly soldier.
"Sorry," said Reddick, with a rare trace of emotion. "You think we like this? You don't know what they'd do to me if I even told you . . . . Goodnight.
Reddick checked himself suddenly, dragged the struggling Zack out.
Beverly followed Reddick out.
"You always seemed to be a good guy, you can bend the rules for me."
"I can't even bend them for myself."
"Please," she grasped at his back - and screamed.
Reddick winced.
She had accidently knocked off the cap, and torn his uniform at the neck.
Reddick's ears were pointed, and furry at the tips. His buzz cut hair ended in a preposterously thick coat of hair on his back.
Reddick snatched back the hat - pushing the astonished Zack into the back of truck.
Beverly looked at Reddick, covering her mouth.
For the first time she realized how large - and dark his nose was, how sad and puppy like his eyes, his large white canines. And the dark shadow around his chin wasn't unlike that of a man his age.
Reddick held up his gloved hand, looking around.
Beverly understood.
"I was kidnapped myself, a couple years ago," he said glumly. "Just knocked out though, nothing so elaborate. You can't do anything for him now, the papers have been sent in.
Just quit, and leave the country ASAP. We'll both be done for if they find out.:
"What?" she said.
"They'll make you like . . . me, and they'll put me in the doghouse - or wolfhouse, if you prefer."
"Literally?"
Reddick nodded, jumped into the cab and drove off.