The Tank

The Tank, Chapter 3

Chapter 3

        They took me to a place called “The Roadside Palace.” It might once have been a traveller’s inn or a truck stop. Now it was part whorehouse, part casino, part brewery, and all piece of crap. When we arrived the regular customers ducked out the back. They were afraid of Axel and his gunmen, and decided discretion was the better part of valor. Only Jack, middle-aged barkeep, remained. He polished a glass nervously before screwing up his courage to greet Axel his boys. “Afternoon, Axel.”

        “Afternoon, Jack. I heard your whore died.”

        Jack nodded. “Had a few rough customers last night. She couldn’t handle it.”

        “Too delicate?”

        “Seems that way.”

        “Well I brought you a replacement.” Axel grabbed my arm and shoved me down across the bar toward Jack. Jack pulled my hair, leaned over, and examined my face. “She’s a pretty young thing, isn’t she?”

        “Not for long.”

         Jack let go of me and frowned. “No, not for long.”

        Axel got down to business. “So what’ve you got for me?”

        “Fifty and change.” Jack sprung open the cash register. It wasn’t filled with money; it was filled with bullets of various types and caliber. Post-World War 3, firepower was worth more than gold.

        Axel rolled the bullets over between his fingers. “This all you got?”

        Jack shrugged, trying to act nonchalant. But I could tell he was nervous. “Can’t get much for a dead whore.”

        “Sure you’re not holding out on me.”

        Now Jack looked even more nervous than before. “C’mon Axel, I know better than that.”

        “I hope so.” Axel turned to his gunmen, pointing at the crews of two different trucks. “You stay here. Keep the girl fresh ‘till I come back to break her in.” Then he addressed the remainders. “Everyone else, back to base.” With the stomp of boots on the Roadside Palace’s wood plank floor, they filed out into the parking lot.

        The seven men men who remained pushed me down into a chair and used plastic zipties to lock me in place. Then they started to play a game of poker. Like Jack, the barkeep, I tried to act nonchalant. But I was terrified. Little did I know that my rescuers were on their way.