“So where are we?”
“Somewhere else.”
“But, where?”
Saul sighed. This had been going on for a while now. They stopped on a bridge.
“Tell me. Where do you think you are?”
Ch-Spartacus looked out over the traffic. “Somewhere in America.”
“No.” Saul joined him at the side of the bridge. “You know – you’re taking this all very well. Not more than two minutes ago you were in a hotel. You walked from the 5th floor exit onto a street and all you’ve done is ask me where. Not how – just where.”
“I expect you to fuck with me. I’m not going to ask you how.”
Saul looked at his new…He struggled for the right word and decided on ‘witness.’ Saul felt a grudging respect for the youngster, but nothing more.
“OK,” Saul struggled, but managed to force out the name. “Spartacus. Where is somewhere?”
They looked back into the setting sun. Finally the answer came. “Southern California. Somewhere around LA.”
Saul smiled. “With the sun setting in the south? I don’t think so.”
Spartacus snapped his head round. “What?”
“Uh huh.” Saul nodded, and whispered, “South.” His hand dug around in his coat pocket and before Spartacus could get out the first syllable of a curse laden invective, threw him a compass.
Saul stepped backwards.
“That,” Spartacus started. “Iih.” He tried again. He felt his stomach tighten, flip over. He looked up from the compass to find Saul’s smiling face.
“South,” Saul said once more.
Spartacus dropped to his knees and threw up his breakfast.
