Russ mumbled something into his gag. Harlon removed it.
“Come again?” he asked.
“Fuck you,” Russ said. “Fuck you and your family.”
Now it was Ethan who garbled an objection into his gag. Harlon let go of Russ’ thumb and bent over Ethan. “You have something to add, young man?” He removed Ethan’s gag.
Ethan refused to look at Harlon. He squirmed on his side and made eye contact with Russ. “Just be quiet, Mr. Burk. Don’t give them the satisfaction.”
Ida emerged from Harlon’s bedroom and lit a filter-less cigarette. “Let him have his say, boy” she said. “He’s just an unfortunate man who got mixed up in all of this. Can’t blame him for being as upset as he is.” She plucked a fleck of tobacco from her tongue. “That’s why we’re fixin’ to do him quick when it’s time.” She shuffled towards Ethan and loomed over him. “But you, you little fucker…”
Ethan kept his eyes on Russ, acting as though he hadn’t heard. “You just stay with me, Mr. Burk—we’ll be out of this soon.”
Ida laughed. “Yeah—you keep acting like you didn’t hear me, boy. You keep acting like you got a prayer in hell.” Her body grunted and cracked as she squatted down next to him. She exhaled smoke into his face.
Ethan still refused to acknowledge her. “Just stay with me, Mr. Burk…”
Ida took a deep pull on her cigarette and then immediately pressed the glowing tip into Ethan’s cheek. Ethan cried out and unavoidably faced her.
Ida barked a phlegmy cackle. “First hint of pain and his resolve goes right down the shitter! Oh, you are gonna be fun, boy.”
Ethan quickly turned back to Russ again, the singe on his cheek like a freshly picked scab. Russ’ return gaze was sorrow, all traces of recent anger gone the instant the young man had cried out. Gone because he was reminded that while Ethan might have the body and capabilities of a man, to Russ he was a boy; he’d already endured enough emotional and physical hardship for ten men. The prospect that it would continue—get worse—and that he could do nothing but watch and feed the boy’s delusions that they would somehow escape…
Ida grunted and cracked again as she stood. She walked towards Harlon, who was now loading his pistol by the kitchen counter.
“How’s Tucker?” he asked.
“Alive,” Ida said.
“Only just?”
Ida nodded. “Done all I can for the time being.”
“Need to get him to a proper hospital, Mama.”
Ida lit another cigarette. “We will, come morning.”
“Assuming he holds out.”
“He’s a Roy; he’ll hold.”
Harlon raised a subtle eyebrow at his mother, loaded the sixth bullet, and then spun the chamber and snapped it shut with a flick of the wrist. In a whisper he said, “I know you got it in for this boy, Mama, but we need to do this quick. Can’t be playing no games with Tucker in there the way he is. Not to mention it’s only a matter of time before Sam’s employer reckons something’s wrong and starts searching.”
Ida scowled at her son. “Can’t be playing no games, huh? Harlon Roy, you might be the most hypocritical piece of shit I ever seen. Went to such lengths as to destroy our own damn bridge so you could have your fun, and now you’re lecturing me about games?” She shoved her cigarette into his face, stopping the burning tip an inch from his nose. Harlon didn’t flinch. “I reckon I might need to be testing your resolve.”
Harlon calmly took the cigarette from his mother’s fingers and stubbed it out on his tongue. He then flicked the cigarette aside, swallowed and said, “Alright?”
Ida snorted. “Hot shit. I’m still taking that boy’s tongue.”
Harlon conceded with a little nod. “Fine. Travis in there with Tucker?”
“No.”
“So where’s he at?”
Chapter 43
Travis Roy was in the little swamp shack his father had built for him on his sixth birthday. The shack sat off the main river, nestled back against one of many small channels. Travis was not popular in school, but his own little shack helped. A place to read nudie magazines, smoke cigarettes, sneak whiskey—all things too impossible to resist for his classmates, no matter who the host might be.
Noah Daigle had once been one of those boys who saw the shine of the shack’s prospects in spite of its dull host. And so now, as Travis sat on the floor of his shack, head down on the magazine in his lap, lanterns in all four corners giving sufficient light, he had a visitor. Two, actually.
“What do you say, Trav?” Noah said. “This here’s Liz…”
Travis scrambled to his feet and backed up until he hit the wall. His nervous fingers immediately went to his neck and began twiddling his gator tooth. “What do you want?”
“Seems your family’s got a hold of our family,” Noah said, gesturing to Liz. “I reckon a trade’s in order.”
Travis quickly reached into his pocket and pulled a pen knife. He unfolded the small blade and then held it out in front with a shaking hand. “Get away from me.”
“You try anything with that toothpick and you’re only gonna get your ass beat worse than before, Travis.”
Chapter 44
Ida and Harlon Roy sat by the kitchen counter, Harlon laying into a bottle of whiskey, Ida her cigarettes.
Harlon looked at his watch. “Should have been here by now.”
“Your idea to make them go on foot,” Ida said.
“If I’d told them all to swim out to the boat, that girl would have seen her dead mama. Would have caused holy hell and we’d have been struggling to keep ’em from jumping overboard.”
“Could have used your rifle then.”
Harlon gestured towards Ethan. “Says the woman who’s begging me to keep that one alive so she can have her way with him. Besides, you think we got a mess now, imagine we had to be fishing bodies out of the river. No Tucker—just you and I.”
“And Travis.”
Harlon snorted and took a swig of whiskey.
“What?” Ida asked.
“Well, he’s family, and I love him, but that boy was in the back of the line when they handed out plums. Still not sure Jolene didn’t have her a fling with Peewee Herman or the like—only way I can figure Travis being the way he is with Roy blood running through him.”
“You don’t speak ill of Jolene, you hear? Tucker heard you, he’d split your face in two, even in the state he’s in.”
Harlon took another swig of whiskey.
Ida sneered at the bottle going towards her son’s mouth. “And let me tell you, you keep hittin’ that whiskey the way you are and it won’t take nothing but a tap on that ugly chin.”
Harlon smirked and took another swig. He then looked down at Ethan and Russ; they’d been quiet a while. “We’re gonna need him, ya know,” he eventually said.
“Who?”
“Travis. When this is done, we’re gonna need his help cleaning up; I don’t care how squeamish he can get.”
“He’ll help.”
“Not if he’s not here,” Harlon said. “Out in his shack, I bet. Daddy’s lying in there dying, and he’s pulling his pecker to nudie mags out in his shack.”
“Nothing he can do for him. Better he just stays out of the way and leaves his daddy be.”
“I guess.” He looked at his watch again. “Getting later and later…”
“Girl’s injured; Noah’s smaller than Ethan; you took out the bridge. Give it time.”
“Don’t have much time, Mama.” He pointed down at Ethan and Russ. “That there? What you got planned? That’s the easy part. It’s the after that’s troubling me. We got a hell of a lot of people to make disappear. Not to mention Sam’s boat. Better we get it all done before the sun comes up.” He looked at his watch again. “That’s about eight hours from now.”
Ida lit a cigarette. “Don’t need to cut ’em all up and feed them to your flock tonight. Long as we keep them locked and cool like the others—keep ’em from causing a smell�
�then we should be good for days. Nobody’ll get wise, even if they come knocking. That boat on the other hand…you will need to get to that tonight.”
“And that’s a two-man job,” Harlon said, his earlier implication about Travis helping evident.
“He’ll help,” Ida said again.
Harlon pushed away from the counter and headed towards the back door. “Not if he ain’t here he won’t.” He opened the back door and found himself standing face to face with Noah Daigle and Liz Burk. “Well, it’s about fucking time.”
***
Harlon grabbed Noah by the shirt and dragged him inside. Liz limped after them, following as quickly as she could.
“Look who finally decided to show, Mama,” Harlon said.
Ida echoed her son: “’Bout fucking time.”
“Dad, you okay?” Liz asked.
“I’m fine, sweetheart.”
“Both of you, shut up.” Harlon looked at Ida and then gestured down towards Russ and Ethan. “Go get that rope, Mama. We’ll get ’em fixed up like these two.”
“Why even bother, Harlon?” Russ said from the floor. “You’re going to kill us, right? Why even bother?”
Harlon bent over Russ. “Makes me feel safe, Russ. God forbid your daughter and that weaselly little fucker try something while we’re marching you outside. Had enough bother for one damn day.” He grinned. “How’s that for a reason, sir?”
“How’s this make you feel?” Noah said behind him. Harlon glanced over his shoulder. Noah’s fist was in the air, Travis’ gator tooth dangling from it.
Harlon stood upright. “Where’d you get that, son?”
“Where you think?”
Harlon cocked his head with a little smile. “Travis give it to ya?”
“I took it,” Noah said. “Right after Liz and I made sure nobody would be finding him anytime soon.”
“Got him hid do you?” Harlon asked.
“That’s right,” Noah said, fist and tooth still firm in the air. “Kinda place where one don’t wanna be tied up and helpless for too long, lessen they don’t wanna end up dinner.”
Ida shuffled forward. “And let me guess,” she said. “We let everyone go, and you tell us where that place is so we can go and get Travis, that right?”
Noah turned to Ida, wielding the dangling tooth like a crucifix on a vampire. “Right again.”
Both Ida and Harlon started laughing. Noah frowned.
“Lord, strike me down right now if that boy ain’t more trouble than he’s worth,” Harlon said.
“Amen,” Ida agreed. She turned back to Noah with a little smirk. “No deal.”
Noah’s defiant face, his puffed-up chest, his firm arm and tight fist wielding Travis’ tooth, all seemed to wilt at once. “But…?”
Both Ida and Harlon laughed again.
“Do it,” Tucker Roy said from the bedroom door.
All eyes fell on Tucker. He stood at the bedroom door, ghostly white and drenched in sweat. His one hand clutched his wounded abdomen while the other braced against the door frame.
“Of course we were gonna,” Harlon said. “Come on, Tucker…”
“My ass, you were. Was gonna leave my only child out there to die.”
“Assuming this little shit’s telling the truth about what they done,” Ida said.
Tucker flicked his chin towards Noah. “And how do you explain Noah having Travis’ tooth? My boy would sooner remove his head than the necklace you gave him, Harlon.”
Harlon showed a brief flash of shame. “Ah hell, Tucker, what do you want me to say?”
Tucker stepped out of the doorframe and towards Harlon, his hand still clutching his abdomen. “I want you to say you’ll go get my boy. And I want you to mean it.”
“So you’re suggesting we let ’em all go, that it?” Ida asked Tucker.
Tucker’s stone gaze became an incredulous frown as he turned towards his mother. “To save Travis? Yes. Hell yes. What the fuck is wrong with you two?”
Ida glared at her son. “I suggest you watch who you’re talking to, son—” she gestured down at Ethan. “Lessen you want me to finish what that fifteen-year-old boy started.”
“Oh, so he’s a boy now is he?” Tucker said. “Thought he was a man, fit for killing.”
Ida pushed Harlon aside and got in Tucker’s face. “I don’t rightly care what anyone calls him. All I do care about is watching him bleed.”
“At the expense of Travis…”
“Maybe we can have it both ways,” Harlon chimed in.
“You can’t!” Noah blurted, wielding the tooth again with a look of desperate authority.
Ida, Harlon, and Tucker simultaneously looked at Noah—only Tucker looked as if he didn’t want the boy’s head mounted on their wall.
“We know, son,” Tucker said as evenly as he could. “Tell me where my boy is.”
Liz suddenly blurted: “Where’s my mom?”
Chapter 45
“Your mama’s safe, girl,” Harlon said. “Just needed to compartmentalize, is all.”
Liz spotted the faintest smirk appear on the corner of Ida’s mouth.
“What the hell does that mean?” Liz said.
“Now who would have figured a cracker like me would know more than a little princess like you?” Harlon said. “Compartmentalize means to divide into groups or” —now it was Harlon who was losing the fight with a smirk— “sections.”
“I know what it means!” Liz yelled. She rushed to her father and dropped to his side. “Dad!? Dad, where’s Mom?”
Russ could do nothing but cry. Liz shook her bound father, momentarily ignorant to all aspects of his pain. She continued with the same question, the same temporary ignorance, each time louder and with increased force as she shook him, as if she could force away the sickening truth she already knew. “Dad, where’s Mom!? Dad, where’s Mom!? Dad, where’s Mom!?”
Russ only continued to cry.
“Not much spine on him, is there?” Ida said.
Liz leapt to her feet and charged Ida, screaming wildly as she attacked. The two locked onto one another’s hair and began violently jerking and pulling and winging punches, Liz’s youth and rage allowing her to get the better of Ida, eventually dragging her to the floor and sitting atop her chest, raining down punches and obscenities and spit.
Harlon, momentarily stunned by the chaos, hurried towards Liz and his mother and pointed the barrel of the six-shooter at the back of Liz’s head.
“NO!!!” Tucker cried and dove for his brother, catching his gun hand by the wrist and pointing it towards the ceiling where it discharged once, plaster and dust fluttering down around them.
Harlon and Tucker spun in circles as they struggled with one another—Harlon puzzled and frowning, trying to pull his gun-hand free; Tucker wide-eyed and desperate, trying his damnedest to disarm his brother in his wounded state.
“What the fuck are you doing!?” Harlon yelled as they fought.
“If you kill them, we’ll never find Travis!!!”
“Get the fuck off me, you crazy bastard!” Harlon screamed. “That bitch is gonna kill Mama!!!”
Harlon’s words seemed to have no effect; Tucker continued to fight, the two brothers banging into walls, breaking furniture, the gun discharging once more, this time towards the kitchen, shattering glass and porcelain.
Liz continued flailing down onto Ida with crazed punches, only stopping periodically to grip the sides of Ida’s head with both hands and slam it repeatedly onto the wooden floor. Each slam accompanied by spit and venom:
“CUNT!!” Bang!
“CRAZY FUCKING BITCH!!!” Bang!
“CUNT FUCKING CUNT BITCH!!!” Bang!
If Ida was unconscious, Liz didn’t know, nor care. She wanted her dead.
Harlon had since changed tactics against his brother, exploiting his injury by firing uppercuts into Tucker’s bloodied abdomen with his free hand. Adrenaline could only anesthetize Tucker so much before he began to wilt from his brother’
s blows, eventually losing his grip on Harlon’s gun-hand, allowing Harlon to pull it free and then slam the weight of the heavy six-shooter onto the side of Tucker’s head, knocking him backwards into the bedroom and crumbling to the floor. Harlon quickly followed and stood over his dazed brother, pointing the gun down on him, panting…
“You crazy son of a bitch…I should do it…I should fucking well do it.”
Tucker looked up in a stupor, but still with enough wits to mutter: “You gotta find my boy…please…he’s all I got left…”
Harlon sneered and then spit into the corner. “You sicken me sometimes, little brother.” He lifted his boot high and then stomped down onto Tucker’s face, knocking him out cold.
Quickly popping the gun barrel of the six-shooter, spotting the four remaining bullets, and then slamming the chamber back with a flick of his wrist, Harlon hurried out of the bedroom to help his mother.
Everyone was gone. Everyone except for Ida, of course. She lay moaning on the floor, her face a battered mess, her consciousness in and out like Tucker’s in the bedroom.
Harlon kicked over a chair. “God damn if I don’t hate when this happens!”
Chapter 46
Noah had put Travis’ pen knife to good use while Harlon and Tucker were busy fighting, and of course, while a possessed Liz was bouncing Ida’s head off the living room floor. There had simply been too much chaos for anyone to notice. Even Russ hadn’t noticed at first. Noah dropping low and cautiously duck-walking over towards his brother, cutting his wrists and ankles free, the two of them then quietly nudging Russ to snap from the spectacle of his daughter’s fury that held his attention completely.
Once Russ had been cut free, they’d received reparations from the total antithesis of the deus ex machina that had all but buried them earlier: Harlon and Tucker’s fight had spilled over into the bedroom, giving all three the precious time and solitude they needed to pull Liz off Ida and hurry out the back door.
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