Butch grabbed his hand. “These are your tools.” He looked hard at the others. “Got it?”
While it was obvious no one liked the idea, they all nodded. After all, what choice did they have? They were a long way from the city and had no ID. At Butch’s order, they set to work. The sun beat down, mosquitoes plagued them, bending to pull the weeds played hell with their backs, if the groans Davie began to hear when they would straighten up and move down a few feet were any indication. He knew his back was feeling the strain. The only relief was the bottles of water Butch brought from the van every once in a while.
“When do we get to eat?” Ken called out several hours later.
“When I say you can,” Butch replied, smacking his shoulder.
Ken whirled around, hands clenched. Seconds later he was ben
