See Tom Run by Scott Wittenburg

took Tom around to the rear of the hearse and
opened the tailgate. He gestured for him to climb in, no small task
while wearing handcuffs. He managed to wrestle himself in and lie
down on his side in the rear compartment, his head resting forward.
Hoops slammed the tailgate door shut and came around to the side.
All three of them got in with Bummer driving, Chappy in the front
passenger seat and Hoops in the backseat.
    “We forgot the iBook,” Hoops said after Bummer fired
up the V8.
    “Go get it—and the cell phone,” Chappy ordered.
    Bummer pulled up beside the Jeep, Hoops hopped out,
gathered up the items and got back in.
    “To camp, James,” Chappy ordered.
    Bummer floored it, laid a patch and sped east on
Thirty-Fourth. Tom’s vision was partially obstructed by the
hearse’s curtained windows but he caught a quick glance of the
Empire State Building as Bummer zoomed past it.
    A few minutes later, the hearse swung a left onto
what looked to be Park Avenue. Bummer slowed down a little as Tom
peeled his eyes through the curtain in an effort to get a fix on
where they were going.
    “What we gonna do about that heap, Chappy?” he heard
Hoops say.
    “Oh hell, I don’t know. It’s in really bad
shape—about all it’s good for is petrol. That poor bloke was about
as worthless as they come, eh?”
    Bummer replied, “No shit. Crap car, no good stuff
except that cheap .22 and nothing but attitude. Sweet hot lady,
though.”
    “ Sweet is an absolute understatement,
Bum! That hottie is gonna provide us with many a premium ride—makes
me willy stiff just thinking about her!”
    All three chortled.
    “Jesus, damn—our own white slave anytime we want her!
But just wait’ll she gets a shot at my throbbin’ johnson! She won’t
want shit to do with you lily-white punks after that!” Hoops
exclaimed.
    “Hate to break it to you, mate, but size isn’t
everything. English charm and incredible longevity will have her
crawlin’ back for more from yours truly,” Chappy said.
    Then Bummer chimed in, “Screw both
of you! Did you see the way she was looking at me after I made
mincemeat of her boyfriend? That was the look of respect! She wanted to
give it to me that very minute! Well, maybe once she got over the
fact that I’d just split her loverboy’s skull in two, that is. But
I swear that whole goddamn whupping turned her sweet ass
on!”
    “Bummer, you are one sick dude,” Hoops declared.
    “Screw you, Hoops!”
    Tom’s mind was reeling as he felt
the hearse begin to slow down again. Erin! he thought. And Kyle! They had
to be talking about Erin and Kyle! Who else could it be?
    “Well here we are—home sweet home,” Chappy announced.
“Let’s get Tommy-Boy out of this crypt and show him our humble
abode.”
    Tom squinted his eyes to see where they were. It
looked like they were still on Park Avenue.
    Hoops came around to open the tailgate.
    “Out, Tommy.”
    Tom scooted on his ass toward the rear of the hearse
and sat on the bumper long enough take in the surroundings—
    The hearse was pulled up in front of 301 Park
Avenue—The Waldorf-Astoria!
    As Tom let out a gasp, Chappy came around and pulled
him on to his feet.
    “So what do ya think, Tommy-Boy?”
    “I’m speechless,” was all Tom could say. The mere
thought of these skuzzy delinquents inhabiting one of the world’s
most elegant hotels was inconceivable.
    “You freaking should be,” Chappy replied. “And let’s
keep it that way.”
    Chappy shoved Tom forward as they headed for the
entrance of the famous Waldorf. Bummer held the door open and Tom
was unable to remain silent after seeing the inside. “Where is all
of the light coming from?”
    Chappy glared at him and Tom saw murder in his eyes
for speaking out of turn. The English boy’s misguided pride,
however, prevailed.
    “Backup generators, Tommy. Practically everything in
this place is fully functional. And quite comfortable, I might
add.”
    Tom squinted as he took in the elegant