The Zero Game

36

Lightly tapping the side of his thumb against the top of the Hertz rental car counter in the Rapid City airport, Janos made no attempt to hide his frustration with the South Dakota way of life. “What’s taking so long?” he asked the young employee with the skinny Mount Rushmore tie.

“Sorry… just been one of those busy mornings,” the man behind the counter replied, shuffling through a short pile of paperwork.

Janos looked around the main lounge of the airport. There were a total of six people, including a Native American janitor.

“Okay — and when will you be returning the car?” the man behind the counter asked.

“Hopefully, tonight,” Janos shot back.

“Just a quick visit, eh?”

Janos didn’t answer. His eyes stared at the key chain in the man’s hand. “Can I just have my key?”

“And will you be needing any insurance on the-”

Janos’s hand shot out like a dart, gripping the man’s wrist and swiping the key from his hand.

“We done?” Janos growled.

“I–It’s a blue Ford Explorer… in spot fifteen,” the man said as Janos ripped a map from the pad on the counter and stormed toward the exit. “You have a good day, now, Mr…” The man looked down at the photocopy of the New Jersey driver’s license Janos had given him. Robert Franklin. “You have a good day, now, Mr. Franklin. And welcome to South Dakota!”