Choir Loft, pt 7

“Shh, here they come.” Patrick crouched behind some rundown chairs and hastily retied Sarah’s gag.
“So!” Carter cried out enthusiastically. “Have you thought about if you’ll tell me or not?” She stayed silent. “Bitter, are we?” He nudged Dylan with a sneer. “Well, we can’t have that!” He nodded, and Dylan carefully took off the gag. “It’ll be more interesting if I can hear your lovely voice.”
“I’ll ask you one more time: do you or do you not wish to tell me what I want to know?”
“And what is it that you want to know?”
His eyes narrowed dangerously. “You know what I want to know.”
“Can’t say I do.”
Carter slipped a Zippo lighter out of his pocket. He flicked it open, bringing it closer and closer to Sarah’s arm with his finger frighteningly close to the ignitor.
“You know perfectly well. But if you insist on being stubborn I must resort to desperate mesures…”
“No you’re not!” Patrick cried.
Carter looked up, mildly surprised. “Well, if isn’t the knight in shining armor,” he drawled.

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