The six boys were once again lucid, and finding their hypnotic predicament of only moments ago hilariously funny. They all gathered up their belongings, some ducking into the nearby men's room just outside the classroom door to change back into civvies.

"Herbie, man, that really was incredible", Coffee said.

Jamie concurred. "Seriously, that was an incredible experience, Herb. Thanks for involving us in all this."

Carson couldn't suppress his ear-to-ear grin. "I'd have to say it was the best time I ever had making a complete ass of myself."

"And just think", Bryce laughed, "we did it all without the aid of beer!"

Rickie was already changed and absently starting to stuff his worn overalls and straw hat into his backpack. Realizing he was about to blithely make off with Herbie's props, he yanked the bibs back out and held them up for Herbie to see. "Um, what do you want us to do with these?"

Herb was busying himself with his hypno-machine, flicking switches and activating the cooling fan, and only glanced over his shoulder at Rickie. "Hang onto them. You'll need 'em for future sessions. You know, if I decide this is working okay. For when you come back tomorrow."

Rickie shrugged, stuffing the bibs back into his backpack. Carson tossed his own overalls to his friend, who added them to his bulging book bag. Herbie tended to his notes and appeared to be scanning his collected data as the half dozen boys shifted back to their everyday freshman college boy mode and, two at a time, made their way out. Their general mood was cheerful and light, smiles and offhand jokes shared among each other. Everyone seemed eager to return for another session, anxious to see what fun awaited them next--little knowing they'd not have long to wait. A few more words of gratitude and farewells were extended to Herbie, who offered curt nods in acknowledgement as he tried to suppress his own smile.

Through it all, Vic stood leaning against the far wall, arms crossed, one foot planted against the bricks behind him. The departing freshmen hypnosis subjects seemed not to notice him. Vic watched them through squinted eyes, his brow furrowed in clear irritation. He huffed out seething breaths through his nose, his lips pressed closed in a tight line.

After the last of the freshmen chicken boys had gone, Vic turned to stare angrily at Herbie, who had begun shuffling his papers and started to hum, pretending not to notice his friend's glare.

Jamie and Acker walked into the tiny off-campus apartment still riding high from their experience with Herbie's project. They were periodically laughing and talking up a storm, both of them carrying his own pair of worn overalls in one fist. Acker was currently in the lead in the race of gushing recollection as Jamie reached for the lights in the darkened flat.

"And when that light was on us, I was just thinking, God, this is such bullshit, even though I felt so relaxed. Then the next thing I know, Carson's gone all confessional and my legs are bending and I'm going down on my haunches. Before I can stop, I'm wondering all 'Whoa, am I really doing this?' and I go to push myself back up, only I can't--"

Jamie finished the thought as he turned on the lamp on a nearby table. "--yeah, because now your hands are all balled up in your armpits."

Acker beamed. "Exactly! And I go to say something, and it's all this, whatever, chicken noise, and I'm thinking, okay, any minute now I am going to stand up and walk out of here."

"Only you can't", Jamie continued for him. "And then with that poem, and the whole lifelong dream of being a chicken thing, it's like--Jesus."

"Yeah! And all of a sudden, I get this chill up my back and I'm all, 'Holy shit! How did he know I always secretly wanted to be a chicken? Has this guy been spying on me or what?' it's like he got into my head or something, like he knew who I was, who I'd always been inside--"

Jamie grinned. "And it wasn't until he brought us out of it that we even knew that those were just suggestions, that none of it was real."

Acker shook his head, still smiling. "Yeah, and as scary as all that should have been, as creeped out as I know I should be, all I can think of is---"

"---trying it again?", Jamie finished his sentence for him again. "I know what you mean. The way it makes you feel all so relaxed, so happy, so...I dunno, fulfilled or something."

"Makes you kinda forget we pretty much made asses of ourselves on scientific record or whatever."

The two boys laughed again, unable to come down from the rush of both their shared experience and the resulting afterglow. As the laughter subsided, the two young men stared at each other for a bit, neither quite certain why they felt unable to move on. Quietly, Jamie said, "Hey, thanks for the company, but the way. You didn't have to walk me all the way back to my apartment."

Acker perked up, apparently glad for something to say. "Oh, no worries. My dorm room's not far from here, pretty close by, actually, and this side of campus can be pretty spooky at night when you're going alone. So it's cool."

They stared at each other again. Was something supposed to be happening here? Why wasn't Acker leaving? Why wasn't Jamie asking him to?

Jamie held up his overalls. "Hey, it's funny how that guy had us take our costumes home with us. I don't know what's up with that."

"Yeah, right. I guess he wants us to keep track of 'em ourselves or something like that."

Jamie kept eye contact with Acker. "Yeah, something like that." They stared some more. Then, softly, Jamie said, "You know, you looked pretty good in yours."

"Huh?"

"The overalls. The whole shirtless, barefoot farmboy thing. It suited you."

"Oh, you think so? Hey, hey, thanks. You looked pretty okay, too. Kinda, well, natural like that."

"Well, they're really comfortable is the thing. That's probably why he asked us to wear 'em for all our sessions. So easy to relax in 'em. You know." Jamie took a step closer to Acker.

"Right, right. They're pretty comfortable. I mean, I thought so, too." Acker took a step closer to Jamie.

"So you going back for the next phase?"

"Oh, definitely. I mean, sure, whatever."

A pause.

"You wanna put 'em back on? The overalls?"

"I will if you will."

"Deal."

In moments, the two college freshman shucked off their garments and leapt back into their faded denim bib overalls. Their street clothes lay in a heap in the corner. For a few minutes, there was only the two shirtless, barefoot boys standing before each other, silently staring, nothing audible but the sound of their breathing. Each one taking the other in, the bare shoulders, smooth arms, strong chests disappearing beneath the baggy, loose-fitting faded denim bibs, the soft trousers barely hiding their semi erect members, their strong calves protruding from the wide-cuffed pant legs.

Acker swallowed. "You look good. You look wholesome. " His voice fell to a whisper. "Almost pure."

Jamie licked his lips. "You too. Like you're untouched. Natural. Unspoiled." Jamie inched closer to Acker. "Can I--?" He licked his lips again. "Would you let me...touch you?"

Acker nodded mutely. Jamie tenderly touched his fingertips to Acker's bare arms and traced the length of them from wrist to shoulder. Acker's breathing became more rapid as he did so, coming in sharp, sudden gasps, too quiet to be indicative of panic. Acker stepped up close to Jamie, letting his hands slide easily around the other boy's waist. Lightly, he fingered the loose overalls and slipped his fingers between the twin brass buttons on either side. Underneath the soft denim he felt the smoothest, softest skin with firm muscles beneath. Neither boy's farmer pants could hide his erection now.

"You're not wearing underwear either", Acker commented.

"Country boy style", Jamie offered.

Both their breathing was becoming more ragged. Jamie reached his hands up and ran his fingers through Acker's hair. Acker reached down and massaged Jamie's behind. They stepped forward once more, pressing their chests together, their bare feet stepping one gently atop the other, rubbing toes and soles against each other.

As Acker kneaded Jamie's thighs, he wheezed out, "Oh God, what are we doing?"

Jamie buried his face in Acker's hair, drowning in his scent. "I don't know, I have no idea."

Acker ran his hands over Jamie's back, massaging him with eager fingers. "I'm not gay. You know I'm not gay. I just need you to know that."

Jamie was kissing Acker's neck, his tongue running up and down, licking the spot behind his ear. "Me neither. I don't know what this is, what's happening, but I can't help it. Can't stop myself."

Acker's hands gripped at Jamie's waist and torso, firmly massaging the smooth skin they found there. "It feels so good, so right." He began kissing Jamie's bare shoulders.

Jamie started nibbling Acker's ear. "Like we're meant to be together. Like we're supposed to be like this." The two boys grew more intricately entangled, each feeling indescribable sensations rush through their hearts and minds, as if all their previous trysts with the opposite sex were mere preludes to this, the true attraction they were supposed to feel, with this, the only true partner they could ever have.

Jamie and Acker kissed passionately, hands gripping shoulders, fingers rubbing through hair, hands running down arms, grasping hands and interlacing fingers. With some effort, they pulled their mouths apart, temporarily freeing their tongues to speak. Jamie gasped, "I want this. I want this so bad. Do you want this? Tell me you want this."

Acker wheezed out between breaths, "More than anything. Let's do this, I am so ready to do this, please."

The two freshmen returned to each other's mouths, falling backwards upon the overstuffed couch, kicking aside extra pillows and discarded class folders. Jamie peeled back Acker's bib straps, exposing his bare shoulders, and began to pull off the rest of the overalls even as he worked to squirm out of his own. Acker reached up to grab Jamie's furious hands and still them.

"Let's leave them on."

Jamie stopped in his tracks, while Acker deftly unbuttoned Jamie's fly and freed his fiercely erect penis, already dripping with precum. Jamie smiled, then released Acker's member as well, and the two boys collapsed, one atop the other, where they would remain until morning, muscles working, hips thrusting, mouths probing, until both they, the couch, and the overalls would be completely and totally saturated.

"I did not sound like an ostrich!"

"Dude, you so did."

Carson and Rickie entered the room in the frat house, kicking aside overturned empties and mounds of neglected laundry to get the door open.

"I was bucking like a chicken", Rickie insisted. "You heard me. You heard all of us. The psych class guy turned us into chickens. I was bucking like a chicken. End of story."

Carson smiled, snickering. "A sick ostrich. The rest of us were chickens, you sounded just like a sick ostrich."

"How can you even say that? You're just pissed 'cause he made you go first." Rickie feigned a serious voice. "Today. Today was a day I had to decide between white meat and dark meat. Not which one to eat, but which one I am..."

Carson went on unperturbed. "It was kind of this honking noise, like from the back of your throat." Carson jiggled his Adam's apple with his forefinger for visual effect.

"No, seriously", Rickie said. "How could you even notice what the hell I sounded like? You thought you were a chicken, for cris'sakes. I thought I was a chicken. That was the whole point."

"Yeah, I did", Carson said, dropping his backpack to the floor. "And as I sat there, all hunkered down and flapping my elbows, I kept thinking, God, what is UP with that one chicken down there, he sounds like an ostrich or something."

Rickie had to laugh despite himself. "Like you even know what an ostrich sounds like. When have you ever heard an ostrich?"

"Discovery Channel."

Rickie kicked off his shoes. "Thanks for letting me crash here tonight, Cars."

"Da nada. My roommate's gone for the next couple days, he won't care if you take his bed. Besides, we feathered friends have to stick together. Even if we are different varieties of the same species."

Rickie tossed a wad of dirty socks at Carson as he cleared off the bed. "Asshole."

Carson pushed the pile of textbooks atop his own bed onto the floor between the bed and the wall. For a brief moment, all that was heard was the sound of clothes, papers, and the odd paraphernalia being pushed to the floor to make room for sleeping.

"You know, the ostrich egg is the world's largest single-celled organism", Carson said. "But I guess you know that already, having lived in one and all."

"Will you shut the fuck up already?!" Rickie was already getting undressed, and he snapped at Carson with his shirt.

Carson had peeled off his shoes and was unbuttoning his shirt when he eyed the ceiling and pursing his lips thoughtfully, and added, "And you know, the ostrich bark alone wouldn't have been so bad, but your stance was all wrong, too."

Rickie stopped in mid-zip as he was undoing his fly. "Stance? What stance?"

"Your chicken stance. The way you squatted down, flapped your arms. Totally off."

Rickie turned around. "Okay, now I'm positive you're full of shit. I will have you know that my squat was of premiere chicken quality." He pulled back the sheets of his bed, then turned back to Carson. "You really think it was off?"

"C'mere, I'll show you." Carson walked to the center of the small room, kicking aside a soccer ball and a rumpled pair of jeans. He took a stance with his feet shoulder width apart and motioned for Rickie to join him. "Come on. Over here."

"You're serious."

"Sure", he said, patting his thighs. "Come on, it'll be fun."

Rickie shook his head, but he crossed the room to stand beside his friend.

"Now imagine you're turning into a chicken. Or you think you are", Carson prompted.

"Shouldn't be too hard", Rickie said dryly.

"Squat down with me", Carson said, going slowly down on his haunches. Rickie rolled his eyes, but complied. "Now get your hands up under your arms, like you're miming having wings." Rickie did so, trying to fight a growing smile. "Annnd, as you feel your butt come to rest on the back of your heels, let loose with your cluck."

"This is ridiculous. I can't do this."

"Sure you can! Come on, it's easy, you just did it like an hour ago, and with gusto. Come on, I'll do it with you."

"We're gonna wake up the whole house."

Carson furrowed his brow. "This house? They're probably all unconscious in a drunken stupor, and that's just the ones who could find their way home. Now cluck with me, poultry boy."

Rickie bit his lower lip, then cleared his throat. "What the hell...BraAWkk-bawk--!"

"Ya see? Right there! That's your whole problem!"

Rickie looked stunned. "What? That was a perfectly good chicken cluck."

Carson shook his head, still squatting, still with his hands shoved into his armpits. "You had way too much throat going on. It was all gargly and stuff. Not chickeny enough."

"Am I actually arguing the quality of my chicken impressions with you? Are you high?"

Carson looked over at Rickie, a thought coming to him. "It might work better if we were back in the overalls."

Rickie opened his mouth as if to argue the lunacy of the suggestion, but closed it again, weighing the idea. Then, "Get your backpack."

In another moment, the two college boys had plundered Carson's backpack and were pulling on their faded blue overalls. A few seconds later, the twosome were squatted back in position, wearing nothing but their bib overalls, prepared to give their chicken clucking the old college try. Rickie shook his head side to side, trying not to burst out laughing.

"Come on, man", Carson said, grinning. "This is serious business."

"I can't believe we're doing this", Rickie said. "You go first. Show me how it's done."

"Well, it's really quite simple", Carson said, adopting an air of sophistication that made Rickie snort out a truncated laugh. "First you effect the correct posture. Very important." Carson straightened his back, giving his elbows a quick flap. "Lift your head high." He raised his chin about an inch. "And let fly. Buuuuccckk-buk-buk-buk-bA-KAAAWWK!!" After Carson had finished what should have been a side-splitting performance, he remained in his squatting posture, his eyes focused on the horizon, a look on his face that could only be described as pride. And just a hint or surprise.

Quietly, Rickie said, as he too sat hunched down with his arms bent as wings, "You did that really well."

Carson looked to Rickie, pausing as he made eye contact, and swallowed before answering. "Thanks."

Slowly, the two stood up, facing each other, easing their arms out of their bent positions. After a moment, Carson ventured, "Is it hot in here?"

Rickie nodded vigorously. "Um, yeah, yeah, it is a little warm. At least I think so." He moved to slip his hands into his back pockets, found only a drop-seat flap there, and let his arms flop awkwardly at his sides. "Uh, good thing we switched to these overalls then, huh?" He looked at the floor. "A lot cooler this way."

"How do you feel right now?", Carson blurted.

Still looking at the floor, Rickie said, "Like there may be some great, big underhanded post-hypnotic suggestion lurking inside my brain that's going turn me back into a chicken any second if I'm not careful."

Carson touched Rickie's shoulder, causing him to look up. "I know what you mean."

Rickie breathed a sigh of relief. "You do? That's great, 'cause for a minute there I thought I was just being--" Carson's kiss cut Rickie off. Carson took Rickie's face in his hands as Rickie let out a muffled cry while his arms moved ineffectually in the air. Then he allowed himself to be lost in the kiss, his arms finding Carson's shoulders, holding tight and probing his friend's mouth even as he tried to regain his bearings.

The boys remained liplocked as Carson guided them over to one of the beds, he wasn't sure which one, it didn't matter, and flopped them down upon the haphazard tangle of sheets and blankets. Rickie reached up and slid his hand under Carson's bib, rubbing his smooth chest with his palm. Carson continued to hold Rickie's face with one hand, the other finding it's way down to Rickie's hips, to knead and massage the top of his leg. Rickie pulled his hand free from Carson's denim bib and clutched his shoulders, his hands then moving up his neck to run his fingers through the hair on the back of his head. They kissed intently for five or ten minutes before Carson pulled back, looking down into Rickie's eyes.

They lay there, staring into one another's eyes for a while, until Rickie spoke. "Thanks. For showing me the right way to cluck like a chicken, I mean."

"Anytime." Carson smiled, and to his extreme joy Rickie smiled back. "So. Buck-buck."

Rickie nodded. "Yeah. Buck."

The two rolled over onto their sides and kissed again, with greater passion than before. Hands pulled at the overalls straps and each stripped the other to the waist. As they pressed against each other, mouths locked, arms forming a tight embrace, their movements forced their overalls down an inch or two more, bringing their considerable erections out into the open. In seconds they were pressed together, hips thrusting, legs intertwining, the temperature in the room rising with their sexual heat.

In another three and half minutes, the two friends' mutual explosion would christen them both with the largest orgasm either boy had ever experienced. Come morning, Carson's roommate would most definitely care that someone had borrowed his bed.

Bry and Coffee made their way down the dimly-lit hallway toward the cramped dorm room they shared. Bryce still wore his battered overalls, having put on only his shoes after being brought out of his trance. His shirt, pants, and socks were wadded into a ball under his arm.

"Can't believe you actually wore that dorky thing back here", Coffee remarked.

"Why not? It's comfortable as hell. Feels really good--kinda, I dunno, liberating, I guess."

"Pshyeah, whatever."

Bry stared at Coffee as they approached their room. "You should know what it's like to wear something that's unconfining, you with the size quadruple-extra-large shirt and the circus tent pants."

Coffee unlocked the door and pretended to bar Bry's way with his arm. "Do not mock the pants, man."

The roommates ambled into their dorm room, squeezing a bit to fit through the tiny entrance way. Bry kicked off his shoes the moment he was past the threshold and went barefoot. He proceeded to open a drawer in his bureau and shove his wad of extraneous clothing inside, then forced it closed, after poking back down any protruding fabric.

Coffee looked over toward the phone, saw no blinking red light. "No messages."

"You tired?", Bry asked him.

"Not really, no. You'd think we would be after everything."

"I know! When we were under, I was so fucking relaxed. I felt so, so, it was weird, like I was so at peace, so comfortable. And these overalls--! Damn, they just accentuated the whole experience, I may never wanna take 'em off."

"I reserve the right to tell you when you're getting ripe", Coffee said, plopping down on the end of his bed.

"How could we feel so calm, so relaxed, and so damn pumped at the same time?"

"I have no clue. You gonna take a shower or something? Cause if not, I might slip in there--"

"You don't look very relaxed", Bry said.

Coffee suddenly looked very self-conscious. "What? No. No, I'm relaxed. I'm really relaxed. I'm mellow."

Bry walked over to his friend. "Did you have as much fun doing all this as I did? I mean, I pretty much agreed for both of us that we'd be back. If you'd rather bow out, I'd understand. I could tell 'em you're not coming back, if you were embarrassed by having acted like a big chicken and all that--"

"No! Don't do that!", Coffee snapped. Then, more calmly, "No, it's cool. I really did have a good time. It was fun. And like I said, I'm relaxed. But I'm pumped, too. Whatever. Like you are."

Bry eyed Coffee suspiciously.

"So, um, how do you feel?", Coffee asked. "Cause it's probably just how I feel. Probably."

Bry moved to the edge of the bed. "Scooch over."

"Why? What are you doing?"

"Just trust me." Coffee slid over a few inches, and Bry sat down beside him, and began massaging his shoulders, something that at any time in the past would have sent either men scurrying away somehow seemed perfectly normal now. "I know from relaxed, and buddy, whatever you're feeling, it ain't relaxed." Bry began to knead the top's of Coffee's arms first, sliding his hands easily over his shoulders next, his thumbs then slowly working his friend's back.

Coffee groaned pleasantly and felt the tension leaving his body. He began to slump a bit, despite himself. "Oh. Ohhh, man. Uh, oh, damn, Bry, that's great."

"See? Now this is relaxed, man. This'll undo whatever kinks you may have knotted up here--" Bry stopped when his fingers hit metal. "What the hell?"

Coffee jumped forward, off the bed. "Okay! All better! Great backrub, dude. Gotta shower now. Talk to ya in a minute."

Bry reached up and grabbed Coffee's shirt tail, lifting his oversized tee partway off him. There was faded blue denim underneath. "You asshole! I knew it! I knew that felt like a bib strap buckle under there!"

"No, wait! I can explain--it was just easier to throw my clothes on over the top of it than to go through the trouble of changing over there, I just--"

But Bry had yanked off Coffee's shirt to reveal the snugly-buckled denim overall bib sticking out of his enormous pants. Bry tossed the shirt onto the bed and crossed his arms, staring hard at Coffee. "Uh-huh."

Coffee shuffled his feet. "Well, they are comfortable."

Bry snapped his fingers and made a "c'mon" gesture with two fingers. "Strip."

Slowly, and feeling strangely exposed, Coffee peeled off his elephant pants and then pulled off his shoes with his heels. He held onto the trousers for a moment before extending his arm and letting them fall to the floor. He stuffed his hands into his faded denim pockets and stood there, across the room from his best friend, dressed identically in worn bib overalls only. Shirtless, barefoot.

"So what now?", Coffee said after a moment of silence.

"Huh?"

"What do we do now? Neither of us wants to take off our bibs, we both feel incredibly good. What next?"

Bry felt like an actor who had all eyes upon him and suddenly realized he'd forgotten his lines. "I'm not sure." He too put his hands in pockets. He wasn't sure why, but his heart was racing.

Coffee rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet. After another quiet moment, he said very quickly, "I dare you to cluck like a chicken."

Bry's eyes bulged and to his dismay, he felt himself get an erection. "What? No!"

"Dare ya."

"You are fuckin' crazy, man. I only did that before because I was hypnotized."

"Yeah, so do it now when you're not."

"No, you do it. You do it first, then maybe."

"Double-dare ya."

Without thinking about it, Bry stepped closer to Coffee. "The guys in the next room would hear us."

"So? They'll just think I'm mocking you for being a wuss. Which is pretty close to the truth." Coffee took a step closer to Bry.

"I am no wuss. Lookit how I dress. I'm a strapping country boy who won't lower himself to--"

"Chick-ennnnn...", Coffee chided.

Bry burst out, "BAWK-buck-buck-buck-baKAWk!", and instantly, his hand darted out and pressed firmly against Coffee's crotch.

Overcome with surprise, Coffee whispered sharply, "What are you doing?!"

The first response that came to Bry's mind was, "I have no idea!" But the words didn't come, so he moved up close to his friend and gently began to squeeze his package. Then softly, he whispered back, "Now you."

Coffee simply spluttered at first, unable to make any coherent words or sounds. Then Bry began steadily massage Coffee's member through the denim overalls and move it slowly in a circular motion. Coffee started shuddering with pleasure, through still incredulous over what was happening. He looked into Bry's eyes, and found his roommate's expression was just as shocked and nervous as his own.

Bry licked his lips, then repeated, "Now you. Cluck like a chicken, man."

Very quietly, and with great effort, Coffee was able to get out, after two more failed attempts, "...uh, uh, uh...bu-buh-buh...buck-buck-buck-ber-kawwk--!" Immediately, Bry released Coffee's member and grabbed his head, kissing him intensely. He had no idea what he was doing, what had prompted it, or why he was unable to stop. He only knew that it felt indescribably good and so very right.

Coffee tried to pull away, but Bry held him tight, and soon Coffee pressed forward, against his chest, giving in to their embrace. Coffee reached one hand around Bry's back to hold him, and the other hand he slipped down the front of Bry's overalls and reached to grasp his friend's rod just as had been done to him moments before.

"Mmh!!", Bry cried in a high pitch as Coffee made contact down below, squeezing and caressing him through the soft denim trousers. Bry then reached back down himself and regained his hold on his friend. Together, the two went down on their knees, still locked in a kiss, pulling and tugging at one another with increasing ferocity.

Bry reached out blindly to his side and yanked the blankets off of his bed. As if sharing the same thought, Coffee did likewise with his own bedspread, tossing them in a bundle on the floor beside them. Then the two barefoot boys gently lowered themselves onto the blankets, quickly losing themselves in their kiss, their members throbbing with imminent orgasm, their groping hands continuing to work their magic as if of their own accord.

Vic crossed over to Herbie as he was winding up the cord from his machine. Vic leaned on the cart that held the machine, trying to look somewhat threatening, but unable to hide the tinge of fear in his eyes. "Tell me it's temporary. Making these straight boys think they're gay. It's temporary, right?"

Herbie went on winding up the cord, turned down the machine's cooling fan a notch. "It's temporary."

Vic let out a breath of relief. "Thank God."

"It's temporary in that eventually they'll grow old and die. In that sense, everything is only temporary. But I'm no philosopher. It's a psych class project." Herbie grinned, picking up the case for his machine.

Vic began to ask if his friend was kidding, but could see by his expression that he was not. What exactly had they started? In anticipation of Vic's unspoken question, Herbie loaded his machine into its case and said, "Same time tomorrow. You'll see what comes next."

Herbie locked up his device and hauled it out with him. Vic stayed behind in the room for several more minutes. He did not want to simply follow him.