“It Feels Wrong to Have You Fighting All My Battles”
still (uncomfortably) close- manacled together in front of him
- entertaining a theory concerning those skeletons
- thronged into his memory
- very few molecular biologists
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“It feels wrong to have you fighting all my battles for me,” I said to Tessa as I made sure the Uzi’s safety was off. Heinrich lay groaning at our feet. “Also,” I smirked, “shouldn’t this be a deactivated speargun?”
“Sorry, I’m fresh out,” she replied, deadpan. Her smile was ninja-like, flitting across her face as stealthily as she’d flitted over the rooftop.
I wanted to ask her about the treasure, I wanted to ask so many things, but Heinrich’s continued mewling reminded me that he was still (uncomfortably) close. If I shot him we would be able to speak openly, but I couldn’t bring myself to plug an unarmed man, not even Heinrich. Tessa shook her head and pulled out a length of chain from some mysterious compartment of her black outfit. Soon Heinrich was fastened to a sturdy pipe with his hands manacled together in front of him.
By then he’d recovered somewhat from his beating, enough to mutter something about “heaps of bones on the beach” while looking sidelong at Tessa. To me, he added, “I’m entertaining a theory concerning those skeletons.” He winked at me, a ponderous droop of one creased and greasy eyelid that left me tempted to shoot him after all. But clearly he was trying to tell me something, something he thought should matter to me. What was the significance of the bleached remains that had thronged into his memory?
Tessa took off one of her socks. Just before she gagged him with it, Heinrich blurted out, “The art of such flensing is a secret known only to a very few molecular biologists.”
Hefting the submachine gun, I weighed the wisdom of pressing Tessa for an explanation.
bonus points for using them in order