Life of Spike Murdoch

Chapter 5 - Fishy Business

It was a heavy rainstorm in the middle of the evening. Spike, Truck and TJ sit in the comfort of their living room, with Truck reading the newspaper, and Spike and TJ playing video games. Still worried about Roxie, but with the way Truck is still healing from his wounds, and Spike having to take care of TJ, there's nothing much they could do. They've received multiple calls from the police and detectives, learning any more information they could give about the kidnapper, Ruthley Tsunako, but Truck ran dry. Spike and TJ didn't have anything else to add on, not knowing the robin until now, so they were sitting ducks. Truck didn't know many acquaintances that knew Ruthley personally aside from himself.

Spike took a moment from gaming to look out the window, watching the trees blowing in the wind and the rain brushing down hard on the ground. "Gosh, it's really pouring down outside."
Truck folds down his newspaper. "I know. It's like Lady Nature herself is having a hell of a rainfall."
"Yea... I hope Roxie is at least somewhere warm and comfortable, or at least has a roof over her head."
"Knowing the bastard, Ruthley wouldn't harm her, given any chances."
Spike closes the shades, looking down at Truck. "Speaking of, are you ever gonna tell me about your history with this guy?"
Truck sighs and looks at TJ, distracted enough to not pay attention to the conversation.
"Not in front of him, Spike. He's already dealing with enough as it is."
"We can just go downstairs and talk if you want."
Truck flinched his body from the couch, but could barely move. "Urk... after the pain medicine wore off last night, my whole body feels like it's been completely shut off. Unless you wanna carry me again, that is."
"Ha. Don't remind me. My arms and legs are still recovering from that. You weigh at least like thirty or more bricks of concrete."
"Fair enough. Then I'm staying right here."

Spike gets up from the couch and offers to get Truck and TJ a drink, which both obliged. Walking in the kitchen to fix some glasses for them, he overhears the radio station playing by the hallway about more disappearances happening around town. He worries that Ruthley isn't the one doing all the kidnappings, but was a bit relieved to hear it was someone else doing the crimes. Thieves break and enter houses all the time around the town, but this is the first time it has happened like this in a span of a few weeks, which worries Spike again. Getting the drinks, he flicks off the radio and goes back in the living room with the beverages.

"Goddammit, man!", shouted Spike. "There's been more kidnappings happening around the town."
"I heard.", answered Truck. "That's why I installed deadbolts on the doors when I got home. The only safest option is to stay here until then. We have enough food here to last us a couple of weeks. I'm sorry, boys, but it's for our protection."
"Well... what about Remmy and his parents? What if something happens to them, and we're not there to help them out?"
"Remmy's dad owns a gun, remember? I've seen him get more headshots in target practice than I do when we play table tennis."
Spike became confused. "But... don't you own a gun too?"
Truck fell quiet for a second, but answered back. "No. I don't really care for guns. Especially not around my son, Spike. If he's ever in danger - and mind my French here - I'll strangle the fuckin' sonovabitch who even comes close to him with my own bare hands. I swear it."
"I know you will. I'll hold you to that promise then. I'll tell everyone to not screw around with a Stonewell."
Truck smirks at the comment, coughing a bit from the joke. He takes a sip of water to clear his throat. TJ looks up from his game and stands up. "Dad?"
"I'm fine, son, don't worry. I just need to rest up. It's getting late anyways. Go and get ready for bed."
"But... it's only 8PM."
Truck points his finger up to the stairs. "NOW, Junior."
TJ pouts." ...okay."