XII. The Hanged Man. [Reversed]

The City—EVENING

The same, later.

The next thing I know, I am trudging groggily through the neighborhood, trudging because Spike has bound my legs together. Groggily because Spike has given me quite a black eye. Or so it feels. When I go to untie my legs, I only find Spike has also slung the shotgun over my back and has bound my hands to it like a scarecrow. A cop car passes, and instinctively I want to run, but think that maybe they will untie me and drive me home.

The patrol car’s lights come on and it slows to stop. my relief turns again to panic as I remember the gun he is holding in the air.

“Help! Help!” I call out while thinking to myself that I hope they will not shoot first and ask questions later!

Two officers emerge from the car with pistols drawn.