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'You've got to be kidding,' Francine muttered. |
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'People are running amok out there.' With his scissors, he started to cut off the bag so it reached only as high as his groin. 'I've got a friend who might be in trouble.' |
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'That's up to you. You can either stay here or come along.' |
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He wrapped the plastic around his ankle and leg. 'I can lock the doors. I'll get you some firearms.' |
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'Mom, we can't stay here.' |
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'I'm well aware of that.' Trev cut off a length of tape, and cinched the bunched up bag around his ankle. He bound a yard-long strip of tape several times around his thigh, pulling it tight. Tight enough, he hoped, to prevent it from slipping down. When he finished, his right leg was encased in layers of green plastic. |
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'That isn't going to stay up,' Lisa said. |
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'I don't know,' he muttered. He pulled out a second bag and shook it open. |
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'If you're gonna do that, you oughta wear your pants over the bags.' |
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For the first time, he saw her smile. |
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'That's a good idea. Thanks.' While he ripped the tape loose, Lisa squatted by his foot and tugged at the bag. She tore it down his leg and flung it aside. |
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Trev swung a foot up across his knee and grabbed his sneaker. |
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