“Where’s Carl?” she asked plaintively, risking a shot from the taser because she just had to know.
“Don’t need to worry none ‘bout him,” Dub replied. He said no more. Maia made as if to press the question and then she felt the taser pressing into her side again. She bit her lip and was quiet. The rest of the ride seemed to take hours, but it couldn’t have been more than fifteen minutes before Dub finally pulled to a stop at the edge of a wide clearing. The far side of the clearing looked as if people had been dumping their garbage there for generations. The heap was a jumble of bags, sacks, rusty metal, old cans, broken bottles, bundled newspapers soggy and mildewed from past rains and other, less identifiable things. It was taller than Dub. As Dub opened his door she saw a rat scurry out
