After riding far enough that I finally start feeling safe from the freaks, I pull the horse to a slow canter near a vacant, grassy area, flanked by coconut trees. I look around, making sure no one’s nearby as the horse comes to a halt, dipping its head low to sniff at the grass. It’s most likely trying to recover as much as it can from the whole ordeal.

I don’t blame it.

I swing my one leg over and hop off, landing on the grass. The pain from my rear immediately letting itself be known. This’ll be the first, and last, time I ever ride without a saddle.

I pull Mrs Davids off, depositing her unceremoniously on the grass on her back, as far away from the horse as I can get her. She aims a weak kick at me, missing by a mile, and bursts out into tears.

I turn to Spike, who’s still in the process of sliding off the horses back. A pained expression painted on his face, it seems Spike enjoyed the ride even less than I did.

“Well, what now?” I ask him.

“What do you mean, ‘what now’?” he asks, gently rubbing his backside.

“I mean, we can’t exactly go back to the hotel with the Mrs here, naked and glistening as she is! Not to mention, still cuffed and screaming bloody murder!”

We both turn to look at Mrs Davids, who is trying her hardest, without success, to squeeze out of the cuffs. After a few seconds, she notices us watching her and stops, looking away guiltily for a second before turning angrily back to us.

“Let me go, you pervs! What do you even want from me?!”

I turn back to Spike. “Huh, ain’t that funny. She’s calling us the pervs.”

Spike pats the horses hide, it lets out a small whinny and continues eating. “Yeah, pretty funny. Hey, ma’am, why not tell that to our buddy here? I’m sure he has a thing or two to say to you.”

The horse lets out a neigh, eyeing her suspiciously before going back to eating.

I let out a chuckle, seeing Mrs David's face flush red. “How dare you?!” she screams, “I’ll have you know that-”.

Spike and I turn to look at each other. He gestures to the side, and I nod in response. We both walk away, leaving Mrs Davids to her ranting. We hear her get louder and louder as we walk further away, until eventually she’s screaming her words at us. Once her screaming becomes nothing more than some background noise, I turn to face Spike.

“We gotta figure out how we’re gonna deal with the lady, man. We can’t go back to the hotel with her. Even if we find her some clothes, and somehow manage to get her in them, she’s gonna just scream her head off until the local PD’s called.”

Spike scratches his head, thinking. He turns back to look at the source of the screams, and our problems. Mrs Davids is currently trying, and failing, to stand up. Still screaming. Starving yourself while doing vigorous exercise for days on end does take its toll, it seems. She turns to check on us, sees us watching her, and stops screaming for a second. We look at each other for a bit, eyes locked. After a second or two, she turns away, wiggling to get her legs under her, and carries on screaming. Spike turns back to me, brows furrowed. He lets out a sigh. “Yeah, you’re right. Okay. We gotta think. What if... What if we gag her?”

“No, man. That’ll look even more suspicious! Do we have to stay in the hotel? I mean, I’m sure we can find a place to squat until the client can pick us up?”

Spike thinks for a second, his arms crossed and his hand on his chin. “Too unsafe. We can’t risk keeping her in an uncontrolled environment. You never know who’s gonna walk past and see us. Hotel’s gonna be the best bet. Unless…”

I grab him by the shoulders, turning him towards me. “Unless?”

“You’re not gonna like it.”

I throw my hands up in the air. “Not like we have a whole lot of options! Just tell me what it is.”

“We can call in the Feds. Get a car delivered to us, some new clothes for you as well. We can keep her in the trunk until we can contact the client and get a private jet outta here. It’ll cost us, though.”

I place my hand on my chin, thinking. “How much?”

“More than we can afford right now. They’ll take whatever outstanding amount we owe off our payment for the job, though. But we’ll have to skip the buffet.”

My heart stops for a second.

“No. No no no, no! I didn’t wade through all that shit for nothing! No ways, no how, no sir! No thank you! Next plan!”

Spike throws his hands into the air in defeat. He sits down hard on the grass, pulling his legs up and resting his arms on his knees. “Well then fuck, I dunno, Jack! We gotta think of something!”

I sit down next to him, pulling my legs up and resting my arms on my knees as well. We both sit there for a bit, watching Mrs Davids struggle. She’s rolling on the grass, trying to get her legs under herself, her screaming becoming hoarse.

“Any chance she might lose her voice completely?” I ask Spike.

“Would be great if she did. But probably not. At the rate she’s been going, she could probably keep this up for another few hours.”

“Huh. Damn.”

We carry on watching, trying to come up with a plan on getting the good Mrs into the hotel without drawing too much suspicion. I tug some grass out the ground, ripping the blades into ever smaller pieces as I think.

“Wish I packed more sunscreen,” Spike says, as he takes out a tube from his pocket and pours it into his hand. He massages it into his bald scalp, the top already going a slight shade of red from the sun. “But you know how plane customs are, ya can’t carry more than a certain amount in your carry-on and all that shit. Bunch of bullshit, if you ask me. Used to be you could carry as much as you wanted in your check-in. Not anymore, though. Has to be less than x amount, or they make you chuck it.”

Suddenly, it clicks.

I have an idea.

“Hey, Spike. How big is your suitcase?”

“Pretty big.” he says, putting the tube back in his pocket. “Why?”

“I think I have a plan.”