I broke the kiss. “We must, barnacle.”
“Huh?”
“That’s my line,” I said. “And did you find your eye mask?”
He held it up. He put it on. “Stand back,” he said.
I looked around my cage. It was a short look. “Um, good luck with that.”
“Todd,” he reiterated. “Todd, stand back.”
Todd did as he was told. I scrunched back as far as I could go, pulling my arms and legs in as I covered the family jewels. They were, of course, all I had of my actual family. Sad. Almost as sad as being locked up in a cage in a Republican senator’s hidden basement.
“Ready?” Craig asked.
Todd nodded. I gulped. I gulped again. There was no spit left in my mouth. The gulp was mostly for show. “Ready,” I said, my face pushed into my chest, heart pounding like a chicken-tasting jackrabbit’s.
“Laser,” said Craig. Out shot the laser beam, a sliver of blue slicing through the air. “Cut the lock.”