The Greatest of These by Greg Wendleton (have you read this book .txt) 📗

let out a massive groan. He had experienced none of the comforts of home since they had left Texas on the same flight as the Wilhites. He walked into the small store and grabbed a cart and began perusing the aisles for the supplies Jones would need for the next two days. He also decided he’d grab some toilet paper for the lady, also assuming that the asshole Jones would need to take a dump at some point. Oh, and he grabbed the fool a bottle of Jose Cuervo tequila. A big bottle. The 1.75-liter bottle. That should keep the whiner satisfied.

The big man drove back toward the shack, taking some diversionary tactics, just in case anyone was following him. He didn’t notice anything unusual in his rearview mirror. So, he headed west on the Hana Highway and turned left onto the dirt track road about a mile outside of Hana. He saw the righthand turn just ahead and slowed, preparing to make the turn. He nearly came to a stop, but decided to continue and to his relief, there was nothing unexpected awaiting him in front of the shack. The other black SUV was the only thing parked in front of the hovel. To be on the safe side, Smith pulled around to the back of the shack so that he was completely out of sight if anyone drove by and peered into the brush littered driveway.

He exited the SUV and opened the tailgate in order to grab the provisions he had purchased at the market. He loaded up his arms, pushed the tailgate’s ‘close’ button and walked around to the front and through the lone door. Entering he immediately heard the annoying sound of Jones continuing his otherworldly snoring. Before he even set the groceries down, he walked over to the bed and kicked the sleeping man in the ass.

“Hey, what the fuck was that for?”

“You’re a pain in the ass, so I put my boot up yours. You got a problem with that?”

“Did you get me some tequila?”

“Yeah, I got you a big bottle, you big baby.”

He dropped the bag with the tequila onto the bed and Jones’ eyes lit up like a six-year-old on Christmas morning. Smith shuffled over to what appeared to once have been a makeshift kitchen and set the remaining items down on a wooden counter top. He pulled out six, quart sized bottles of water, several packages of sliced deli meat, some chips and something called Poke. He had no idea what it was, but he figured Jones could eat it after he and Johnson headed west to the Kahului Airport in a few hours. Smith really didn’t want to stick around that long and listen to Jones bitch some more about having to stay behind and babysit, but in the end, they were a team.

Smith grabbed one of the bottles and walked over to the chairs that were the resting places of the Wilhites. He twisted the cap off and walked closer to Jamie. He instructed her to tilt her head back a little and open her mouth. Then he slowly poured some of the water into her mouth.

“Thank you. May I have some more?”

“What do you say?”

“Please...”

He poured more of the refreshing water into her mouth until Jamie began to gag. He poured a little more, just to prove to her that he was in control and then stopped. “Are you satisfied?”

After coughing a few more times, Jamie said, “Yes, thank you.”

Next, Smith moved over in front of Chad Wilhite, who already had his head tilted back and his mouth open. Smith was not gentle and tipped the bottle toward Chad until it poured onto his face and down his throat. Only when Chad began gagging and shaking his head did Smith stop pouring the water out onto Chad’s face.

“Thank you. I’m very satisfied” said a saturated Chad Wilhite.

“Good, because your bottle of water is empty.”

Johnson, who had been leaning against the wall by the window chuckled and shook his head not sure if what he had just witnessed was funny or just plain cruel. He decided not saying anything was probably the smartest thing to do.

Smith walked back over to the makeshift kitchen counter and pulled out another bottle of water and tossed it over to Johnson who caught it in his left hand. “Thanks” he said and twisted off the cap and took a long draw from the bottle.

The adhoc leader grabbed a bottle for himself and, like Johnson, took a long pull from the bottle of water. He then reached into the remaining bag and removed one of the three packages of sliced meat. “If you’re hungry there’s sliced meat in the bag and some chips. Oh, and Jones, I got you something called Poke that you can eat later.”

Johnson walked over to the kitchen area and reached into the bag pulling out one of the remaining packages of meat. He also grabbed a bag of chips and sat on the counter. He was careful to make sure it would hold his weight before he relaxed and opened the container and started inhaling the protein.

Jones twisted the cap off the tequila and took a healthy swig, shook his head, squealed and then belched. He really was a disgusting human being. “That’s what I’m talking about!” he said as he smacked his lips in satisfaction.

Chad and Jamie turned their heads to face each other and mouthed “I love you” and knew it was going to get much worse.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Shortly after noon, Smith and Johnson bid Jones goodbye reminding him that he was booked on the American Airlines flight #6 leaving Kahului Airport at 7:20pm on Thursday. If Cooper hadn’t found the safe house by noon Thursday, he was to terminate the Wilhites, burn the house to the ground, with them in it, and head to the airport. Forty-eight hours was going to be an eternity.

The two men pulled out from behind the shack and