Page 76 of Lost
It seemed like an all right idea — until Alfonzo stuck a dirty rag in his mouth and taped over it.
“Sorry,” the older boy said, though it was obvious that he didn’t mean it. “Can’t let you tell the old man what’s going on now, can we?”
Lysander wanted to argue, but all that came out was muffled yelling.
Alfonzo’s two companions retreated from the windows and took up positions that they deemed more appropriate. One fell into place behind Lysander, where he could cover Alfonzo; the other took up refuge in a corner adjacent to the door, where he would have a clean shot at anybody who walked through it. Alfonzo stayed by Lysander’s side. He’d shoved his gun in the back of his pants for safekeeping. All three men were ready to strike.
Lysander hoped that Zack knew what he was getting himself into.
For several minutes, all that Lysander could focus on were the sounds — Alfonzo’s watch ticking the seconds away; his own heartbeat throbbing too loud in his ears. There were birds chirping just outside and a branch scratching on a windowpane somewhere. Once comforting sounds. He wondered now if he would ever look at them the same way again. If he would even get the chance.
There was a very real possibility that he was going to die before the hour was up.
The door didn’t even creak when Zack pushed it open.
There was no warning of his arrival, but its impact was immediate. Alfonzo straightened; the man behind Lysander took a small step forward. The other man, hidden in the far corner, made himself known as he came forward with his gun pointed at Zack. To the guitarist’s credit, he didn’t even flinch at the sight of the weapon. He simply put his hands up in the universal sign of surrender.
In one hand, he held a bag.
“So glad you could join us,” Alfonzo drawled. “Come forward. Slowly.”
Lysander frantically shook his head no, but it was no use. Zack moved toward them slowly but deliberately, his hands never leaving their place in the air and his eyes never straying from Alfonzo. He didn’t stop until he was no more than six feet in front of them. And only then did his eyes turn to his son.
“Are you all right, kid?”
Lysander nodded. There wasn’t much else hecoulddo.
Zack looked back to Alfonzo.
“This ends now,” he said firmly. “Give me my son and I’ll give you your money. Then everybody can go home happy. No harm, no foul.”
“Put the money on the ground and step back, or the boy gets it.”
The metal cylinder that pressed against Lysander’s temple was all the motivation that his father needed.
Zack set the bag down carefully at his feet. Then he backed up — slowly, with his hands in plain view the entire time. Lysander watched every move that his father made. Maybe he would get lucky. Maybe he would manage to escape with his life. The thought was a tiny beam of light in an otherwise dark situation. The boy clung to it as if his own life depended on it.
“Check the bag,” Alfonzo said to the boy standing behind Lysander.
The kid moved forward, gun pointed at Zack. Zack didn’t move; his eyes remained on Lysander even as the boy between them unzipped the bag and poked around at the contents. Even from his horrible vantage point, Lysander could see that the bag was filled with money. Definitely not millions though, as Alfonzo and his buddies had demanded.
Sadly, he wasn’t the only one to realise this.
“There’s hardly anything in here,” the bag-checker growled. He looked up at Zack. “Where’s the rest of it?”
“You said not to get the cops involved,” Zack replied. “This was as much as I could get without attracting unwanted attention.” The man looked nervous now. His eyes were definitely on the gun beside Lysander’s head instead of on the boy’s face. “I can get you the rest, but it’s going to take some time. A few weeks, maybe. One week at the very least.”
“We gave you twenty-four hours. We expected payment by no later thantoday.”
“This was the best I could do without bringing the law into things,” Zack insisted. “I figured you’d appreciate that. And like I said, I can get you the rest — it’s just going to take a little time.”
He looked so sincere that it broke Lysander’s heart. Here was a man who was willing to give up every cent he had to save the son he had only known for a few months. It wasn’t a sight that Lysander had ever expected to see. And it broke his heart too, because he already knew that his father’s attempts at rescuing him were futile. He was already dead. All he was waiting for now was for Alfonzo to pull the damn trigger.
He hoped Zack had the sense to run when it happened, even if it didn’t look like he was going to get very far.
“How much is in the bag?” Alfonzo demanded.
“Two hundred and fifty grand,” Zack said. “And I could only get that with the help of my friends.”
