BooksBarbecue
Back The Preserve
Chapters (56)
  1. Front Cover
  2. Half-Title Page
  3. Title Page
  4. Copyright Page
  5. AUTHOR’S NOTE
  6. 1.
  7. 2.
  8. 3.
  9. 4.
  10. 5.
  11. 6.
  12. 7.
  13. 8.
  14. 9.
  15. 10.
  16. 11.
  17. 12.
  18. 13.
  19. 14.
  20. 15.
  21. 16.
  22. 17.
  23. 18.
  24. 19.
  25. 20.
  26. 21.
  27. 22.
  28. 23.
  29. 24.
  30. 25.
  31. 26.
  32. 27.
  33. 28.
  34. 29.
  35. 30.
  36. 31.
  37. 32.
  38. 33.
  39. 34.
  40. 35.
  41. 36.
  42. 37.
  43. 38.
  44. 39.
  45. 40.
  46. 41.
  47. 42.
  48. 43.
  49. 44.
  50. 45.
  51. 46.
  52. 47.
  53. 48.
  54. EPILOGUE
  55. AFTERWORD
  56. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

“I think you know Francisco,” Lansdale said. “Francisco is in training. He will be running the show here. Because soon I’ll be on my merry, merry way.”

Frankie and Lansdale shared a laugh. Lett wanted to ask where that put Selfer, but then Lansdale set a doctor’s bag on the table. He pulled out a glass syringe. This one was wider and ringed with a dull metal around the nozzle and piston and bulb, like a device from the previous century. The liquid inside wasn’t clear this time, but yellow—like urine, Lett thought. The needle had a girth to it that he did not like, not at all. Frankie moved in, held him in place. Lansdale, humming a tune now, squirted the yellow fluid and came around the table. Frankie pushed up Lett’s sleeve. Lett gritted his teeth and pressed his bare toes to the floor, but Frankie tipped the chair back and Lett’s toes dangled.

The prick didn’t hurt. Lansdale knew how to find a vein.

What came after was no placebo. A warmth surged through Lett. He floated. He loosened up. He grinned. This darn cell was an amusement ride, that was all, a happy Tilt-A-Whirl, and all Lett had to do was ride it out.

“Rock it, keep that chair arockin’!” he shouted at the big ride jockey, and Frankie did so grinning.

After a while, the ride slowed. Stopped. But Lett couldn’t get off. It was like before. His limbs wouldn’t work. No one needed to hold him down.

“No need,” he muttered. “So don’t you even try . . .”

The room spun now instead of him in the chair and the light whipped around and Lett squeezed his eyes shut and his stomach whipped in the other direction and he leaned forward to throw up, but banged his head on the table. Then a bucket was between his legs, and he let it rip, emptied his gut whole until it was just bile and saliva hanging off his lips.

After a while, Lett came to again. Lansdale was still with him. Frankie was gone. Lett remembered Lansdale telling his goon at one point that he wouldn’t be required for a while.

Lansdale pulled his chair around backward and sat on it and pushed up his suit sleeves and grinned. “Ready?” he chirped.