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This is one hell of a time to start daydreaming, Cyrus thought. |
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He tried to concentrate, but the crotch of his jeans was binding him in a bad spot and the sleeves of his polo shirt seemed to be too full of arms. |
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"Don't fuck with me, man!" the man with the knife hissed. "Give me the goddamned money." |
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Then, all at once, the tall man and his companion began to glow like they were made of kryptonite. |
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"I have a better idea." Cyrus's voice came out way too deep. "Why don't you and your friend haul your scraggly asses back where you came from before I take that knife and shove it so far up your ass it'll take an entire platoon of forest rangers to find it?" |
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The tall man's eyes almost popped out of his head. The knife dropped from his hand, and with his compatriot at his heels, he slowly backed away. When the two men reached the first green, they turned around and did a pretty fair imitation of Carl Lewis all the way across the golf course. |
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Cyrus watched them go and chuckled silently to himself. First time I ever had that kind of effect on anyone. |
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A wave of mild muscle spasms swept through his body and left him feeling nauseous and a little shaky. Again, he attributed them to nerves from the confrontation. |
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"Maybe you'd better consider a new line of work, Cyrus me boy." |
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He took a deep breath and let it out slowly as he followed the fading sounds of panicky feet. In a matter of seconds the sounds were gone and he turned and recrossed the road. |
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Kyna was still snapping away at every bird and squirrel that would stand still long enough. |
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"Shoot!" she said. "You scared that little ground squirrel." |
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"What did those two young men want?" |
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