Both boys stood with their hands above their heads in the back of Frank ‘n Stein’s kitchen.
“Told you I’d find you.” Elvis fished a key out of his pocket and held it up. Cooper’s key. “Guess we won’t be needing this anymore.” He tossed it at Cooper’s feet. “But then again you won’t either.”
Elvis kept a wide stance with the gun trained on the boys. He clapped Stein on the back. “Well, Mr. Lucky. Maybe your luck is changing.”
Gun still in hand, Stein gave a little nod.
“Either of them have cell phones?”
Stein nodded. “Already got ‘em.”
A third man hustled through the front door and made his way through the kitchen. He held a gun in his hand, with a second one stuck in his belt.
“Both bikes are in the creek. We’re all set.” He didn’t wear a mask, but his hoarse voice worked like a vocal ID. Mr. Clown.
Elvis stepped forward. “Into the cooler.” He nodded toward the walk-in freezer.
Freezer. Brown’s Chicken. No. Not there. God, help us.
“Please …” Cooper pleaded with Mr. Stein.
Stein looked away like there was nothing he could do. Elvis was clearly King.
Elvis took a step closer. “Get inside and sit tight. We need to explain to Mr. Lucky how he’s going to tie up some loose ends.”
“We’ll keep our mouths shut.” Lunk looked at Cooper. “Right?”
Cooper nodded.
“Like you planned when you came here tonight?” Elvis snickered. “Move.” He raised the gun.
We’re the loose ends. Cooper pulled the heavy latch and swung open the insulated metal door. A blast of frigid air met his swollen face. A single light bulb illuminated the small room. Dozens of boxes filled the metal racks lining both sides of the freezer. He stepped inside with Lunk right behind him. Please, God. Please, God. He hiked his shoulders up, cringing at the thought of a bullet ripping through him at any moment.
The door slammed behind them like a vault. Or maybe a crypt.
“I thought they were going to shoot us,” Lunk said over the noise of the high-powered fan whirring inside. “Think they’ll leave us here to freeze?”
Cooper shook his head. In his gut he knew Elvis wasn’t going to leave anything to chance. Not this time. “They’ll make sure we’re dead before they leave. He’s going to make Mr. Stein do it.” He feared the door might swing open at any moment. He and Lunk would face a firing squad.
Lunk nodded, eyes wide—like he knew. These guys weren’t about to leave any witnesses around to identify them. He looked around the freezer and pointed at the ceiling. “What about crawling out the vent?”
The duct was big enough, and they could stack boxes to make a stairway up, but the vent cover was a problem. About twenty screws held it in place. “We’d need a screwdriver. Got a pocketknife?”
Lunk shook his head. He climbed up the rack and pulled on the vent cover. It didn’t budge. Jumping back to the floor he stood there, wrapping his arms around himself against the cold.
Even if they had the tools, Cooper doubted they’d have time. He dropped to his knees. “God, forgive me, I’ve been wrong about everything. Save us. Show me what to do. Keep Hiro and Gordy safe. And Frank.”
“You praying?” Lunk squatted down beside him.
“Yeah.”
“Good.”
Cooper stood, scanning the freezer, but kept an eye on the door. An emergency handle and latch assembly provided a sure escape for someone accidentally stuck inside, but they had the opposite problem. How to keep the robbers outside from getting in? He looked at the handle and back at the metal racks. An idea flashed through his mind.
“Thank you, God.” Instantly he unbuckled his belt and whipped it through the loops on his pants. “We need to be sure they can’t open the door.”
Cooper threaded his leather belt through the door handle, wrapped it several times around the one of the metal uprights for the shelves, and buckled it.
Lunk pulled on the belt to test it. “That’ll slow them down.” He took off his belt and did the same, testing it with a hard pull. It held fast. His breath chugged out in little white puffs of steam. “This metal door.” He looked at Cooper. “Think a bullet could get through?”
The door was thick, but probably filled with insulation, not solid metal. Cooper looked around. Boxes and boxes of frozen hotdogs, beef, and buns were neatly stacked on the racks. He lugged a box of hotdogs off the shelf.
“Let’s stack ‘em in front of the door. Make a shield.”
Lunk and Cooper stacked boxes like madmen.
When the wall of cartons reached waist high Cooper stopped and dug in his back pocket. The phone. He pulled it out and held it for Lunk to see.
“You have two phones?”
“I’ll call for help.” He turned on the power button and waited for the phone to come to life. C’mon, c’mon.
“You call.” Lunk reached for another box and hefted it onto their growing shield. “I’ll stack.”
Cooper pushed the SEND button, redialing the last number he’d called. He held it to his ear with a shaking hand. Please, God. Please, God.
On the third ring someone picked up.
“Hammer.”
“It’s me—! I need help!”
“Golden boy?”
“Yeah—Cooper MacKinnon—I messed up.”
“Where are you?” His voice was tough. All business.
“Locked in the freezer at Frank ‘n Stein’s. They’re going to kill us.”
“Hold on, buddy. I’m on my way.”
Lunk slid a box in place. The wall stood nearly to his chest.
Cooper pocketed the phone, grabbed a box, and started another row along the bottom to make the wall double thick.
Someone tried to pull the door open, then pounded on it.
Both boys stopped.
“Open the door. Now!” The voice was muffled, but not enough to miss the rage in it.
Someone yanked on the door again. The belts held.
“Last chance, boys. We just want to talk.”
Cooper eyed the belts. “God please don’t let them get in here.”
“Get down,” Lunk hissed. He dropped flat on the ground.
Cooper pressed himself against the icy floor next to him.
And the men opened fire.