Punks broke, ain't got a cent...' The two largest stepped up and said '...that's too bad, you've got to come up with something to make us happy. And d... it really, really quick...' I did not have to use my imagination to now what they wanted, both of them was stroking their penis through their pants leg. I muttered '...look fellows, I ain't no punk you've got to let me go, they gonna have head count in a little while and I'll be missed. The cops will be looking for me and you will be in. The captain gave me some paper money to spread about as I saw fit.Most of the locals I came across in that hilly country near the border between the Carolinas were poor farmers although I did see a few big homes with rows of slave shanties back in the woods. Some folks had already suffered from raiding parties and scavengers of various stripes and were now hunkered down in December, hoping for an early spring. They were not exactly unfriendly, but I did not get invited to many suppers or places. Lonely. Depressed.*We'd got chatting in a bar after I'd accidentally trodden on her toe – both drunk but she more drunk than me – and admitted towards the end of the evening she'd had a rough time when she had been younger, hinted at abuse.Damaged and vulnerable, I'd concluded as I'd given her my mobile number - my kind of female.I'd met her the next day for a coffee in town and she'd been uglier than I'd recalled: beady little brown eyes too close together set in a pudgy round face with a snub. The three friends had been essential to the success of the show. Miss Sanders chose to do the old melodrama Bram Stoker had created from his most famous novel, Dracula. It provided starring roles for Steve, playing the undead Count, and Grace as the put upon victim Mina. Both had been exceptional, performing beyond their years.The choice of play allowed George to vent his imagination, designing a moody, fun set and creating shadowy lighting and projections which amplified the chills ten fold..