The blood-orange eyes rolled back in his head. The wine stained shirt was unbuttoned down to his navel.
"Theo!" She slapped him too hard.
"Gaaad mum..." he gurgled back at her before closing his eyes again.
"That's it. I want him out of here." His stepfather grabbed Hazel by the arm and shook her.
"There's no need for that..." Theo threw himself forward to the edge of the couch. It was as far as he got.
Theo felt the gravel rolling under his back. He couldn't help but be impressed at the small man's strength. With each of Theo's legs tucked up under Borgin's armpits, he was making quick work of dragging him to the street.
"Where will they take him?" Hazel shrieked.
"Look, the bastard will never feel a thing." Theo could hear his mother's sobs diminish as her husband escorted the bereft woman to her door.
Staring up at the amber sky, Theo contemplated how he had managed to find himself here. How had he managed to piss off the ugly prick without actually putting any effort into it? The last thing he remembered was the crumbling steering wheel in his hands.
There were snatches of images all bungling around his brain; a long walk down a stony path, his mother's face pressed next to his own and an intense itching filing down his shoulders.
Theo did his best to roll onto his side. Borgin was right, he never felt it when the iron teeth scraped him up. The buzzing motor struggled as the lift raised him up and deposited him in the truck.
"This one's juiced," he heard the driver say to his coworker. "Should we have a little fun with him?"
"I can't risk it, I'm still on probation." He rolled up his sleeve and slid back into the passenger seat.
"It don't make sense, since the government's just gonna dispose of them anyway. Nope, the new law don't make sense."
"No," he placed his thumb thoughtfully against his nose, "I think it's good. It's limited."
"Honestly my friend, I think they should issue each homeowner two tags."
"Are you kidding? We're already working overtime, can you imagine?"
"No, I guess not."
