Thomas Prescott Series: Premium (Thomas Prescott Books 1 - 4) by Pirog Nick

Author:Pirog, Nick [Pirog, Nick]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-01-07T16:00:00+00:00

DAY 2

SHOW LOUNGE

8:02 a.m.

I craned my head over my shoulder and opened one eye. Lacy was lying on her back, using the natural curves of my butt in place of her orthopedic pillow. I wiped the sleep from my eyes and turned over, Lacy’s head slipping to the soft carpet.

“What are you do—” she murmured, but feel back asleep before finishing the thought.

Late last night, Lacy, Susie, Frank, J.J. and I had made the move to the carpeted floor near the men’s bathroom. Susie and Frank—their chubby limbs intertwined, looking like two felled redwood trees—were ten feet to Lacy’s and my right. J.J. was perpendicular to the four of us, curled up near our feet. He was in the fetal position, his hands steepled in prayer and wedged between his knees. He looked like a three-year-old. All that was missing was the Batman pajamas. Gilroy and Trinity had remained in their seats, and they were both fast asleep. I noticed a spittle of drool running down Gilroy’s chin and into his chest hair. Two rows behind them, Marge and Walter both sat upright, both eyes wide open. I doubted if they’d slept a wink. As for the other 130 hostages, a few other couples had decided to make the move to the floor, but it appeared the majority had fallen asleep in their chairs or hadn’t slept at all.

I didn’t wear a watch, but Frank did, and as I’d started to drift off last night, I remembered him saying something about it being, “Ten after two.” Or maybe he said, “Ten till two.” But, I guess in the grand scheme of things, when you haven’t showered in a couple days, haven’t eaten in nearly two, are in desperate need of a toothbrush, your contacts feel like little shards of glass, you could pole vault 17’3” with your morning wood, and you are a hostage, then I guess it doesn’t matter the exact moment you fell asleep.

But I was curious what time it was now. I crawled over to the snoring Campers and tried to ferret out Frank’s left wrist in the aforementioned fat pretzel. I finally located it and read the time on his watch, 8:05 a.m.

Hmmmmm, what to do today?

Maybe I’d get a massage, or a bite to eat, or a smoothie, or maybe I’d just hang out in a chaise lounge by the pool all day reading The Game of Thrones and knocking back Coronas. Or, I suppose I could just sit in the show lounge for, oh, I don’t know, until I got shot.

Anyhow, I was going stir crazy.

I spent the next twenty minutes doing some push-ups, sit-ups, and light stretching. And after splashing some water on my face in the bathroom and grabbing a long drink from the faucet, I felt almost human. As I exited the bathroom, I noticed the doors to the show lounge were open. Lil Wayne and Common were each holding a big cardboard box. They looked at each other, then heaved the boxes.

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