fast for such a big guy, and he was confident that he could have his hand over her mouth before she got a chance to scream.
"How do I know you're not some pervert?" she asked.
"Do I look like a pervert?"
"Kind of."
"I don't have the energy to be a pervert," George assured her. "I'm old and tired and incompetent. I'm so bad at life that I'm standing here asking a teenager for career advice. Believe me, you've got nothing to fear from me. If I did attack you, the encounter would end with me rolling around on the sidewalk clutching my balls."
She giggled at this.
Lou stopped the van.
Ally seemed to notice that the vehicle had stopped behind her, but didn't want to look away from George. If she would maintain eye contact for a just a few more seconds, to give Lou the chance to climb into the back of the van, this would be perfect.
"So who's your real favorite singer?" George asked. "If you could pick your top three dream judges for our show, who would they be?"
What was taking Lou so long to open the door? They'd really lucked out on the privacy issue so far, but eventually somebody was going to drive by or take their dog out for a walk.
Lou slid open the van's side door.
Ally glanced over her shoulder.
George charged.
He lost his footing for a split second and had a horrifying mental image of slipping on the ice and landing on his ass. If that happened, he'd probably just lie there and let Mr. Dewey set him on fire.
But he didn't slip, and managed to lunge forward as intended. If he could get her in time...
She looked back at him just as he slammed his palm over her mouth. Her scream was completely muffled—nobody would hear it. Without hesitation, he tossed her into the back of the van, quickly climbed in after her, and slammed the door closed.
Done. Only a few seconds' worth of criminal activity for anybody to have witnessed. Unless somebody with too much free time had been peeking through their windows all this time, George felt pretty good about how this had gone.
Inside the van, Lou scrambled up into the front seat as George held Ally against the floor and put his hand over her mouth.
"We're not gonna hurt you," George told her. "I promise."
"He's telling the truth," said Lou, getting behind the steering wheel and driving away from the scene of the crime.
Ally's frantic struggling seemed to indicate that she did not believe them. Fortunately, George outweighed her by at least a hundred pounds, so keeping her under control was not an overwhelming challenge.
"I need you to calm down for us," said George. "Can you do that?"
Ally continued to struggle and scream beneath George's hand, offering no evidence that she intended to, at this particular moment, calm down for them.
Normally in this kind of situation George would give the victim a good thump on the head or briefly remove their access to oxygen, but their victims were almost always sleazeballs. A sweating little weasel who was stealing drug money from his boss deserved a very large hand on his throat.
Though they still had over an hour left before Mr. Reith's deadline, they had to assume that once Ally was reported missing, somebody would come forward and say that they'd seen an unfamiliar van before the abduction. So it was in their best interest to resolve this as quickly as possible.
"Ally? Hey, Ally? I need you to listen to me."
She wasn't listening to him. George decided to give her five minutes of freak out time to get it out of her system.
After five minutes, she was no more calm, so he decided to make it ten.
These icy roads sucked, and Lou's one-handed driving always made George nervous, yet there was no sign that anybody was pursuing them. Yeah, this whole thing could still come to a horrible, horrible end, but for a rushed, half-assed kidnapping that he and Lou wanted no part of, it had gone far better than George could have hoped.
After about eleven minutes of being held down by George, Ally stopped screaming.
"So I'm not
"How do I know you're not some pervert?" she asked.
"Do I look like a pervert?"
"Kind of."
"I don't have the energy to be a pervert," George assured her. "I'm old and tired and incompetent. I'm so bad at life that I'm standing here asking a teenager for career advice. Believe me, you've got nothing to fear from me. If I did attack you, the encounter would end with me rolling around on the sidewalk clutching my balls."
She giggled at this.
Lou stopped the van.
Ally seemed to notice that the vehicle had stopped behind her, but didn't want to look away from George. If she would maintain eye contact for a just a few more seconds, to give Lou the chance to climb into the back of the van, this would be perfect.
"So who's your real favorite singer?" George asked. "If you could pick your top three dream judges for our show, who would they be?"
What was taking Lou so long to open the door? They'd really lucked out on the privacy issue so far, but eventually somebody was going to drive by or take their dog out for a walk.
Lou slid open the van's side door.
Ally glanced over her shoulder.
George charged.
He lost his footing for a split second and had a horrifying mental image of slipping on the ice and landing on his ass. If that happened, he'd probably just lie there and let Mr. Dewey set him on fire.
But he didn't slip, and managed to lunge forward as intended. If he could get her in time...
She looked back at him just as he slammed his palm over her mouth. Her scream was completely muffled—nobody would hear it. Without hesitation, he tossed her into the back of the van, quickly climbed in after her, and slammed the door closed.
Done. Only a few seconds' worth of criminal activity for anybody to have witnessed. Unless somebody with too much free time had been peeking through their windows all this time, George felt pretty good about how this had gone.
Inside the van, Lou scrambled up into the front seat as George held Ally against the floor and put his hand over her mouth.
"We're not gonna hurt you," George told her. "I promise."
"He's telling the truth," said Lou, getting behind the steering wheel and driving away from the scene of the crime.
Ally's frantic struggling seemed to indicate that she did not believe them. Fortunately, George outweighed her by at least a hundred pounds, so keeping her under control was not an overwhelming challenge.
"I need you to calm down for us," said George. "Can you do that?"
Ally continued to struggle and scream beneath George's hand, offering no evidence that she intended to, at this particular moment, calm down for them.
Normally in this kind of situation George would give the victim a good thump on the head or briefly remove their access to oxygen, but their victims were almost always sleazeballs. A sweating little weasel who was stealing drug money from his boss deserved a very large hand on his throat.
Though they still had over an hour left before Mr. Reith's deadline, they had to assume that once Ally was reported missing, somebody would come forward and say that they'd seen an unfamiliar van before the abduction. So it was in their best interest to resolve this as quickly as possible.
"Ally? Hey, Ally? I need you to listen to me."
She wasn't listening to him. George decided to give her five minutes of freak out time to get it out of her system.
After five minutes, she was no more calm, so he decided to make it ten.
These icy roads sucked, and Lou's one-handed driving always made George nervous, yet there was no sign that anybody was pursuing them. Yeah, this whole thing could still come to a horrible, horrible end, but for a rushed, half-assed kidnapping that he and Lou wanted no part of, it had gone far better than George could have hoped.
After about eleven minutes of being held down by George, Ally stopped screaming.
"So I'm not
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