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live,” Moto warned him. Tank threw back his head and cackled like a crow.
    “You got it all wrong, Big Bro,” Tank sneered. “You take one more step in my direction, and I will pop his head like a grape.”
    “I'll cut you in two,” Moto countered, waving his katana menacingly at Tank. “You'll be dead before you hit the earth. This is your last chance, pal. Put him down and walk away.”
    “Nice bluff,” Tank chuckled. “We both know that's all it is. You're not going to sacrifice some little snot-nosed kid, and your Indian friend here, on the off chance you might take me out. It's not your style. It doesn't let you look like the big shot hero who saved the day, not when the kid dies no matter what.”
    Sam squirmed harder than ever at the news of his impending death, managing to claw just enough air in to bellow out a cry for help.
    “Please, Xander,” he brayed in a high-pitched gasp. “Save me!”
    Felicity held on tight, but I pulled away from her and started for Tank as I drew my sword.  
    “Hold up, bro,” Moto cautioned as I reached his side.  
    “I've got some unfinished business with you,” Tank roared.  
    “Take it easy, Tank,” I said, my mind racing for an answer.
    “Don't tell me to take it easy,” he roared. “I tried to tell John about you. Oh how I've tried. Again and again. He just don't ever want to listen. Thinks he sees a little of himself in you. Thinks you have all this potential, that if he can only get you to see things his way you'll be a great ally to our cause.”
    “That's not gonna happen,” I volunteered. “Not ever.”
    “I know that,” Tank hissed, annoyed by my interruption. “That's exactly what I explained to him. I tried to tell him that you're a liar, that you'd trick him again, that the only way to deal with you was to torture you for information, then kill you when you begged us for mercy, but he just doesn't get it.”  
    “Put Sam down, Tank,” I said calmly. “This is between you and me.”
    “John likes to talk about the big picture all the time now that he's got his new friends,” Tank said scornfully. “It used to be about chasing scum off our streets, creating a pure neighborhood of white brothers and sisters, and defending our race at all costs.”
    “Sounds like a Nazi paradise,” I mocked him. “And you wonder why he's interested in making new friends. Listen to yourself. Racism is so ignorant, so small-minded.”
    “The old John would have let me skin you like a stray cat, and hang your carcass up as a warning to the others,” Tank reminisced, a far away look in his glossy black eye. “Now he wants to negotiate and barter and make backroom deals. When I talk about getting justice, he tells me I need to think outside the box. Even after what you did to me, John still can't understand why I need to tear your limbs off and see you suffer.”
    “I think you should have stayed dead,” Moto advised.
    “You know the problem with keeping your eyes on the future all the time,” Tank said, still smiling his evil, icy grin. “it means you often miss what's right in front of your face. I told John there was no way you accidentally wandered into our hands today, that you were sent here on a mission to see our zombie army in person and report back your findings. He said I was being paranoid, that I wasn't making sense, but here we are on the first night of your capture and you've already got a full rescue team in place.”
    Slowly I began to inch forward as Tank spoke, doing my best not to make any noise. Sam's face was now turning purple. He was struggling less as Tank squeezed harder with each sentence, letting his anger build like an old boiler overheating. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Moto was keeping pace with me, shortening the distance between Tank and us, and preparing for an attack.
    “I warned John you'd try to escape and to chain you up, but he insisted you wouldn't be a problem. Talk about having the wool pulled over