“We can wait for somebody to unbolt it, then put our shoulders against it. We might surprise them.”
“Fuggedaboutit!” said a voice from outside the door.
Holly reached out and grabbed for Stone, then put her lips close to his ear. “I think they can hear us.”
“I think so, too,” Stone whispered back.
“Maybe we’d better shut up.”
“Good idea.”
“Don’t stop thinking, though.”
“I’m still thinking.”
A long silence.
“You come up with anything yet?” she whispered.
“Not yet.”
Another loud sigh. She switched on the light and turned it on some crates against the wall. “We can sit down,” she said.
They sat down.
“There’s even room to lie down,” she said.
“Are you sleepy?”
“No, I’m horny.”
“At a time like this?” he whispered.
“Well, it looks like we’re not going to live very long. It might be our last chance.”
“I don’t think I could rise to the occasion,” he whispered.
She put her hand on his thigh and felt for his zipper. “I’ll bet you can.”
“Holly.”
“What?”
“Not now.”
“If not now, when?” She got the zipper undone and began to feel around.
“You have a point,” he said, reaching for her.
45
SOMETHING WOKE STONE, and when he opened his eyes he was dazzled by the light from a single bulb in the ceiling. He shook Holly.
“Again?” she asked.
“Not right now. Look.” He pointed toward the door. A bottle of wine with the cork half removed and a paper bag were on the floor near the door.
Stone got up and retrieved them. Inside the bag were two paper cups, a large slice of Parmesan cheese, and a loaf of Italian bread. They fell upon the food.