With a look of defiance she tightened the crossbow’s straps on her arm, never taking her eyes from the man. “I can shoot this real fast, Rossi. Remember that.”
Whatever he might have said was lost. “Hold it right there,” came the voice from behind them.
Aside from a quick exchange of frightened glances, they did not move.
“That’s right.” There was a puff of dust, and another, then a young man in a ruined C. D. uniform stood in front of them, an assault rifle cradled in his arms. “I knew I’d catch you,” he said aloud to himself. “I been following you all morning.”
Thea edged closer to Rossi.
“You people come out from Chico, right?” He bounced the weapon he carried, eyes glittering.
“No.”
“What about you?” he demanded of Thea.
“No.”
He looked back toward Rossi, an unpleasant smile widening on his face. “What about you…Rossi, is it? Sure you didn’t come through Chico? I heard a guy named Rossi was killed outside of Orland. One of Montague’s men, Rossi was.”
“I don’t know about that.”
“They said he was trying to save Montague when Cox took over. You know anything about that? Rossi?”
“No.”
The younger man laughed. “Hey, don’t lie to me, Rossi. You lie to me and I’m gonna kill you.”
In the shadow of the tree-stump, Thea slowly put a quarrel to her crossbow, keeping as much out of sight as she could.
“You’re going to kill us anyway, so what does it matter if we lie?” Rossi was asking.
“Listen,” the C. D. man began. “What’s that?” he interrupted himself, looking straight at Thea. “What are you doing?” And he reached out, grabbing her by the arm and jerking her off her feet. You bitch-piece! He kicked savagely into her shoulder as she fell, just once. Then Rossi put himself between them. “Stop this.” “Move!” The order was accompanied by a shove with the butt of his rifle.
“No. You want me to move, you’ll have to kill me.”Rossi was so calm no one doubted him.
The young man wavered for a moment, his hands restlessly fingering the dark metal. His face twitched.
Without turning, Rossi said to Thea, “Did he hurt you?”
“Some,” she admitted as she got to her knees. “I’ll be okay.”
The C. D. man glowered. “She your woman? Is she?”
Rossi turned slowly, forcing the man with the rifle to move back. “No. She’s nobody’s woman.”
At that the other man giggled. In that case, I bet she needs it. I bet she’s real hungry for it.”
He winked at Rossi. “What do you think?”
Thea closed her eyes to hide the indignation and terror in her: if this was to be rape, being used…She opened her eyes when Rossi’s hand touched her shoulder. “I’m okay,” she muttered, though she wasn’t.
“You try any more dumb things like that, cunt, and that’s going to be the end. Understand?”
“Yes,” she mumbled.
“And what will Cox say when he finds out what you’re doing?” Rossi asked. He still kept himself between Thea and the other man.
“Cox won’t say nothing!” the C. D. man spat.
“So you deserted.” Rossi nodded measuredly at the guilt in the man’s face. “That was stupid.”
“You shut up!” He leaned toward them. “You are going to take me out of here, wherever you’re going. If anybody spots us, or we get trapped, I am going to make both of you look like a butcher shop. You got that?…HUH?”
“You stink,” said Thea.
For a moment there was anger in the young, hard eyes, then he grabbed her face with one hand. “Not yet, not yet,” His grip tightened, his fingers bruising her jaw. “You want some of that, you’re gonna have to beg for it, real hard. You’re gonna have to suck it right out of me. Right?” He looked defiantly at Rossi. “Right?” he repeated.
“Let her go.”
“You want her?”
“Leave her alone.”
“All right,” he said with a little nod. He stepped back from her. “Later, huh? When you’ve thought it over.”
Thea bit the insides of her cheeks to keep from screaming.
Rossi looked at the C. D. man. “I’ll be close, Thea. Just call.”
As the two men stared at each other, Thea was tempted to run from them both, to the protection of the destroyed forest. But she could not escape on the open hillside. She rubbed her shoulder gingerly and went to Rossi’s side.
“I’m a better choice,” the C. D. man mocked her, “My name’s Lastly. You can call me that, bitch-piece. Don’t call me anything else.”
She said nothing as she looked up the slope.
Rossi’s voice was soft. “Don’t try it now. There’s cover up ahead and I’ll get him into a fight. Take your chance when you can.”
In deep surprise she turned to him, seeing the sincerity in his eyes, She thought of the rifle in Lastly’s hands and Rossi’s one arm. “Truly? You’d do that?”
He might have said more hut Lastly shoved them apart. “I don’t want none of that. You don’t whisper when I’m around, hear? You got anything to say, you speak up.”
“I want to piss,” said Rossi.
Lastly giggled again. “Oh no. You aren’t gonna leave a trail. Not for a while, till we’re in the trees. Hold it in; got that?”
With a shrug Rossi led the others as they began the long walk toward the rotting line of timber.
For half an hour they moved in silence, and then a wail like a distant wind halted them in their tracks.
“What was that?” Lastly turned the barrel of his gun toward the sound that once again surged through the underbrush.
The ululation rose and fell through the trees for a third time, lonely and terrible.
“Dogs,” said Rossi bluntly. “They’re hunting?’
In the deep shadows of dusk the scattered trees seemed to grow together as if to surround the three people who moved through the gloom. The sound came again, closer and sharper.
“Where are they?”
Thea looked back at him. “They’re a way off yet. You can’t shoot them until they get close.”
“How many?” Lastly was panting now, and not from exertion.
“Who knows?” Rossi replied. “Dog packs can get pretty large.”
“We got to get out of here,” Lastly said in fear. He swung his rifle uneasily. “Right? We got to find some place safe?”
Rossi squinted up at the fading sky. “They haven’t picked up our scent yet. I’d say we have another hour yet. After that, we’d better climb trees.”
“But they’re rotten—” Lastly protested.
“They’re better than dogs,” Rossi said gently.
But Lastly wasn’t listening. “There used to be camps around here, didn’t there? We got to find them. No dogs gonna come into camp.”
“You fool.” Rossi’s voice was dispassionate, and whatever expression might show in his blue eyes was hidden by the waning light.
“No talking. I don’t want to hear it.” Lastly’s gun wavered in front of Rossi.
“Then both of you stop it,” Thea put in quietly, staring at Lastly. “The dogs can hear you when you shout.”
All fell silent. In a moment Rossi murmured, “Thea’s right. If we’re quiet we might find one of your camps in time.” There was doubt in the tone.
“You get moving then,” Lastly said hurriedly. “Right now. We don’t stop ‘til we find someplace safe.”
It had been a summer cabin once, when people still had summer cabins, about a century old with rusted pipes that no longer ran water, and kerosene-lamps in sconces; there was no sign that it had ever been wired for electricity. The view below it had been of pine forests giving way to the fertile swath of the Valley. Now it stood in, a clearing surrounded by rotting trees high above the spreading contamination of the river. Oddly enough the windows were still intact.
Rossi tapped one. �
�Break-resistant plastic. Probably had trouble with bears getting in.”
“You think there’re bears?” Lastly demanded.
“Not with dog packs about. They tend to remain in the high country. We can stay here for a while—a couple of days at least,” Rossi said after circling the cabin. “The back porch is heavily screened with metallic weaving; we can’t cut through it, but we can get the door off its hinges.”
“We can break through a window.” Lastly said eagerly. “I’ll shoot one out.”
“If the window is broken, the dogs can get in.” When this had sunk in Rossi went on. “The back is secure. We’ll be able to protect ourse1ves.”
“You two get it done,” Lastly ordered, pointing his rifle toward the rear porch. “Get it done fast.”
As Thea and Rossi struggled with the door Lastly straddled the remains of the fence. “Say, Rossi, you see what Cox did to that Mute in Chico? Took the skin right off him, hey. Cox, he’s gonna get rid of all the Mutes—just you wait.”
“Yes,” said Rossi as he pulled at a rusty hinge.
“Know what? Montague wanted to save ‘em.” He kicked viciously at the fence, splintering part of the brace so that it wobbled under him. “You hear that, Rossi? Montague wanted to save the Mutes. Why would someone want to do that? Huh? Why’d any real man save Mutes?”
Rossi didn’t answer.
“I asked you something. Rossi. You tell me.”
“Maybe he thought they were the only ones worth saving.” He turned his back to Lastly, busying himself with the lower hinges.
“What about you, bitch-piece? You save a Mute?” He bounced on the fence as he stroked his rifle. The old wood groaned at this treatment.
With a look of raw disgust, Thea said, “just me, Lastly. I’m saving me.”
“What are you saving for me? I got something for you…”
“The door’s off,” Rossi interrupted, pulling it aside. “We can go in now.” He stood aside to allow Thea to enter the house ahead of him.
Mice and insects had got into the house, eating the dried fruits and flour that had been stored in the ample kitchen. There were boxes strewn on the floor that had held cereal and sugar. But on the shelves they found cans and sealed packets were left, filled with food Thea could hardly remember. Pots and pans hung on the wall, most of them rusted, but a few were made of aluminum or enamelware and still ready for use. The stove that squatted by the far wall was a wood-burner.
“Look at it,” Rossi said, his eyes lingering on the cupboards and their precious contents as Thea pulled another set of cabinets open. “Enough to take some along later.”
Lastly gave a whoop as he seized a tin of sardines. “Damn, it’s perfect. I’m gonna have it right tonight. Hot food and a bath and all the ways I want it.” He glanced slyly from Thea to Rossi. “We can build up a good fire. The dogs won’t come near it.”
“Smoke might bring the Pirates,” Rossi said with a bitter smile. “Have you thought of that?”
“It’s nighttime, Rossi. They ain’t coming up here till morning.”
Thea was wandering around the kitchen. “There’s no wood. Not in here, anyway. That table is plastic. Not safe to burn.”
They all stood for a moment, then Lastly announced, “You heard the lady, Rossi. There’s no wood. You gonna get it for her, right? Right?”
“I’ll go,” Thea said quickly.
“Oh no.” The rifle blocked her way.
“But he can’t work with one arm.”
“If he takes his time, bitch-piece. I’m gonna need time.”
“What about you, Lastly?” Rossi asked evenly. “You’re able-bodied and you’ve got the gun.”
“And let you two lock me out with the dogs. I ain’t dumb, Rossi.” He moved around the table. “It’s you, Rossi. You’re it.” He shoved a chair at him. “Sit down and catch your breath, ‘cause you’re going out there.”
“Not without Thea.”
Lastly made his too-familiar giggle. “Want it for yourself, huh? She ain’t putting it out to you. She wants a man. A whole man, Rossi. Not you.”
Thea gave Rossi a pleading look. “You can lock me in the side room. There’s a slide-bolt lock on the outside. You can slip the bolt once I’m inside. Then both of you can go out.” And with a little luck she could rig the window and escape.
“Right!” said Lastly, unexpectedly. “That bitch-piece is right, We lock her up and we get the wood. Rossi?”
“If that’s what you want, Thea?’
She nodded, “Yes.”
“I’ll see you later?” he asked her, his deep eyes holding hers.
“I hope so,” she answered, feeling very tired.
“Come on, bitch-piece. We’re gonna lock you up.” He took her by the arm, half-dragging her through the main room of the cabin to the side room. “There you are,” he said, thrusting her inside. “Your own boudoir. You keep nice and warm while you wait. Think about what we’re gonna do when I get back.” And he slammed the door. There was a distinct click as Lastly pushed the bolt home.
She sat in the little bedroom, huddling on one of the only two bits of furnishing left there—the bare mattress askew on the broken frame in the center of the room. The mattress smelled of damp mustiness and small animals. Tufts of wadding had been pulled from various small holes that made the mattress even lumpier than it bad been originally. The low metal frame that held the mattress sagged at one corner and the interlaced wires that passed for springs whined in protest whenever she moved.
Thea listened for the sound of the men, knowing how much she wanted to run from them. But she was achingly tired now, and helpless. The two windows of the room were clerestory and there was no way to reach them. Beyond that, she knew that if she left the cabin, the dogs would find her, or the Pirates. Her shoulder was stiff where Lastly had kicked her and hunger was a hard fist inside her, and the thought of abandoning the food in the kitchen was enough to keep her from attempting to break the door open. As time passed insidious fatigue claimed her. She slumped, slid until she stretched on the low bed, asleep.
“You were supposed to get ready. I told you to get ready,” said the harsh voice above her. “You knew I’d be back.” She was pulled roughly onto her back and pinned there by a sudden weight across her body. “Hey! Cunt!”
Barely awake, Thea pushed against the man, hands and feet seeking his vulnerable places as she battled her own fear and confusion. She started to scream.
“Shut up!” Lastly growled, his hand slamming across her face. When Thea cried out he hit her again. “You listen, cunt; you’re for me. You think I’m letting a Mute-fucker like Montague get you? Huh?” He struck her arms hack, catching her wrists in a length of rope. “We taught him and his pervs a lesson at Orland. You hear?” He pulled the rope taut against the bed frame. “This time I’m getting mine. Right?”
With a sob of fury Thea launched herself at Lastly, teeth bared and legs twisting. The ropes sank deep into her flesh. Rage rose like bile in her throat.
“No, you don’t,” Lastly giggled. This time his fist caught her on the side of her head and she fell back, dizzy and sick. Her hands strained at the ropes, fingers like claws. “Don’t give me a hard time, cunt. It makes it worse for you.”
Now rope looped her left ankle and then her right. Two tugs pulled her legs wide as Lastly secured the rope under the sagging mattress. Thea pulled vainly at her bonds, tension bowing her back in her effort.
“Don’t,” Lastly said, coming near her. “You do that any more and I’m going to hurt you. See this?” He put a small knife up close to her face. “I got it in the kitchen. It’s real sharp. You give me any more trouble and I’m gonna carve you up some. Till you learn manners.”
“No.”
Ignoring this, Lastly began to cut off her jacket. When he had ripped that from her, he slit the seams on her leather pants. As he pulled these away she wrenched futilely at the ropes.
Immediately he was across her. “I told you.” He put t
he knife to her, catching one nipple between the blade and his thumb. “I could peel this off, you know?” He pressed harder. The knife bit into her flesh. “No noise, cunt. You be quiet or I take it all off.”
In her sudden sharp pain the nictitating membranes closed over her eyes.
And Lastly saw. “Mute! Shit! You lousy Mute! I should’a’ known!” There was something like triumph in his voice. She cried out as he pulled the wrinkled bit of flesh from her. Blood spread over her breast. With a shout Lastly wiggled his pants down to his knees and in one quick terrible movement pushed into her. Forcing himself deeper, laughing, he said, “Montague’s Mute. I’m gonna ruin you!” Falling forward he fastened his teeth on her sound breast.
At that she screamed. He brought his head up. “You do that again, Mute, and this one comes off with my teeth.” He hit her in the mouth as he came.
In the next moment he was off her, torn out of her and slammed against the wall.
“You filthy—!” Rossi, his hand in Lastly’s hair, hit him into the wall again. There was an audible crack and Lastly slumped. Rossi stood over him as be fell.
Fury and shame coursed through her, and she shrieked “Kill him!” before succumbing to despair.
Rossi kicked Lastly once. Then he came back to the bed. “Oh, God, Thea,” he said softly. “I never thought…I never intended…this.” He knelt beside her, not touching her. “I’m sorry.” It was as if he were apologizing for the world. Gently he untied her, speaking to her as he did. When he freed her she cringed, drawing herself into a ball, shaken with silent tears.
Finally she turned to him, shame in her eyes. “I wanted you. I wanted you,” she said and turned away once more.
In wonder he rose. “I have only one arm and a price on my head.”
“I wanted you,” she said again, not daring to look at him.
“My name,” he said very quietly, “is Evan Montague.” And he waited, looking away from her through the door to the main room of the cabin, and the kitchen where one candle burned.
Then he felt her hand on his. “I wanted you.”
He turned to her then, holding her hand, afraid to touch her. She drew him down beside her, but pulled back from him. “He hurt me,” she said numbly.
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