| Author: | M.L. Bushman | ISBN: | 9781934340080 |
| Publisher: | Jigsaw Press | Publication: | June 12, 2014 |
| Imprint: | Smashwords Edition | Language: | English |
| Author: | M.L. Bushman |
| ISBN: | 9781934340080 |
| Publisher: | Jigsaw Press |
| Publication: | June 12, 2014 |
| Imprint: | Smashwords Edition |
| Language: | English |
"Would it be too much trouble if we stay the night?" asked Eleanor.
Of course, it's trouble, but I ain't gonna say that. "Camp out by the windbreak, if you want," I said. "There's wood for cooking around the side of the house. Just keep your kids away from the windows."
"Why?" Jane said.
"Punji traps."
Eleanor said, "Smart."
"You know what they are then," I said.
She nodded, but Jane said, "No."
So I said, "Dig a hole and plant some sharp stakes in it, then hide it under a flap of grass. Anybody steps in one's in a heap of trouble. Keeps people from crawling in your windows."
"Did you dip them?" Eleanor asked.
"You bet."
"Dip them?" Jane said and her sister turned to her.
"The sharp ends, in shit."
Thought this Jane might be verging on a heart attack then, the way her pudgy face turned red.
I said, "Anybody gets away, dies of infection later."
"Nobody's gotten away yet, Eli," Sarah said, and earned Jane's wide-eyed stare.
I had to grin. "No, they haven't, Sarah."
"Would it be too much trouble if we stay the night?" asked Eleanor.
Of course, it's trouble, but I ain't gonna say that. "Camp out by the windbreak, if you want," I said. "There's wood for cooking around the side of the house. Just keep your kids away from the windows."
"Why?" Jane said.
"Punji traps."
Eleanor said, "Smart."
"You know what they are then," I said.
She nodded, but Jane said, "No."
So I said, "Dig a hole and plant some sharp stakes in it, then hide it under a flap of grass. Anybody steps in one's in a heap of trouble. Keeps people from crawling in your windows."
"Did you dip them?" Eleanor asked.
"You bet."
"Dip them?" Jane said and her sister turned to her.
"The sharp ends, in shit."
Thought this Jane might be verging on a heart attack then, the way her pudgy face turned red.
I said, "Anybody gets away, dies of infection later."
"Nobody's gotten away yet, Eli," Sarah said, and earned Jane's wide-eyed stare.
I had to grin. "No, they haven't, Sarah."
