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Then they fashioned coverings for his hands and arms, wrapped them snugly, and taped them tight around his wrists and upper arms. |
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Lisa chopped off the bottom of another bag. She slipped the bag over his head. While Francine held it in place, the girl carefully snipped out eyeholes and a breathing slot. Then they taped it in loosely around his neck. |
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'All set,' Francine said. 'No way you'll get wet.' |
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'Course, you look like something out of a horror movie.' |
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'Oughta do the job,' Trev said. 'Really appreciate it.' His voice sounded muffled and strange to him. Probably because his ears were covered. |
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The women helped him into his shirt and buttoned it for him. |
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'What about his eyes?' Lisa asked. |
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The bag over his head made crinkling sounds as Francine pushed the hat down firmly over it. |
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'That should do it,' he said. 'Thanks.' He took a step toward his desk, picked up his belt, and fastened it around his waist. With every movement, his ears were filled with quiet noises as if someone were wadding up plastic wrappers nearby. He clipped the holster to his side. He unsnapped its guard strap, drew his revolver, then explored the trigger with his covered index finger. |
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It was like wearing thin, rather slippery mittens. |
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He supposed he could fire the gun if he had to. |
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'Go, and get your handbag,' he told Francine, |
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