Propped up on the wall at the head of the bed, Kurt ate a kabob and rice. The pain in his leg had settled down to a steady aching throb. More pain meds would have been a really nice idea, but even though Mike and Maggie were with him, Kurt wasn’t sure being half looped was a safe idea. Once they got someplace really truly safe, he wanted a good twenty-four hours of flat out, stoned out of his mind, lack of pain.
Mike was taking a turn watching out the window, while Maggie gathered up the trash from the meal and began to stuff it in a bag.
“Any sign of the truck or the Islamic State soldiers?” Maggie asked.
“Not so far. Maybe they’re just cruising the streets for general paranoia purposes,” Mike answered.
“Not impossible. They like to remind the fringe locals they are big and bad.” Magg
