The black flakes fell thickly, the wind gusting harder, and she pulled the suitcase of clothes out and set it on the hood. Behind her, the trussed man came fully alert, twisting and turning.
"What the...? Henry! What'd ya do t' Henry?"
Samantha ignored him, stepping casually by the feet that tried to trip her, hated ankle chain rattling.
"You killed him!" He glared at her, struggling against his bonds. "I got the keys, Bitch! Come get 'em!"
Sam did look at him then, cold, blue eyes choosing his fate. Did he need to die, too? That was the only kind of death she was okay with handing out - the needed kind, like for rapists.
"Come on, whore!"
Samantha grinned, stepping back to the wagon. "It won't take long to get the Taser ready again. I'll 'come on' after your heart attack," she stated ruthlessly, sitting down on the icy seat. Her teeth were chattering loudly as her fingers began to feed the wires into the small black box.
Melvin immediately started scooting backwards, balls drawing up painfully when she paused to give him a furious smile of anticipation. "Wait! Okay! We'll trade. Let me go, and we'll split up - never see each other again!"
Samantha nodded, but made no move toward him. She wasn't sure the weapon could be reused this way, was sure it needed a new cartridge or something, but the backward hillbilly at her feet wouldn't know that and hopefully it would bluff him. Sam smiled eagerly. Then again, she didn't know for sure that it wouldn't work either. If not, if he pushed her, she had another pen.
The snow was falling in sheets now, the wind spinning small drifts in circles, and she moved faster, able to feel it getting colder as she watched the trapped man push himself backwards in the slush.
"Okay! Okay! The keys are in my front pocket. You can have 'em. I won't move!"
Sam nodded again, still smiling that tight, malicious grin, and Melvin began to beg, finally sounding sincere.
"I'm really sorry, lady, really." His voice got louder when she stood up, anger burning hotly in her heart. "Please don't, please."
"You don't even know my name!"
"No, come on! You'll kill me. No! I'm sorry for what we..."
The man froze as Sam dropped to a knee beside him in the icy slush, shoving the box hard against his crotch. "It might not kill you, but you'll wish it had." She sneered. "Be a good dog now, Mel, and don't even breathe."