Part 20 (1/2)
Maybe she still could.
But that would end Scott's dream of a best seller.
Besides, she didn't know if she could kill another person-even Hoffman. The look on that man's face when her bullet hit him...
A dead saguaro lay at her feet like a rotting corpse. She stepped over it.
”Ah ha!” Dukane said, and pointed.
On a distant rise of land stood a small house. Its windows were dark, its stone walls pale. A pickup truck stood in front of it.
”The G.o.ds are smiling on us,” Scott said.
Lacey guessed the house was half a mile away, and set far back from the road-far enough, she hoped, so that it hadn't been noticed by those in the other car. Of course, they must've seen its entry drive. Maybe they'd already checked the place and moved on.
The house vanished as she made her way down the side of a gully.
Hoffman grunted. He stumbled, fell headlong, and tumbled to the bottom. ”s.h.i.+t!” he snapped, rolling onto his back. ”f.u.c.kin' handcuffs!”
Dukane pulled him to his feet.
”Get these things off me,'fore I kill myself.”
”That's hardly likely.”
”d.a.m.n it, take'em off! What do you think I'll do, run for it? Where'll I go? I'm with you guys, now. You're my only chance. I wouldn't break for it if I could, not with The Group on our f.u.c.kin' tails. I'm yours. Get me someplace safe. Man, those b.a.s.t.a.r.ds are gonna roast me. Just let me have my hands so I don't bust my d.a.m.n neck. That asking too much? I ain't gonna be any good to you guys with a busted neck.”
Dukane took a key from his pocket.
”Don't,” Lacey warned.
”We'll cuff him in front.”
”No! For Christsake, he'll get loose!”
”It's risky,” Scott said. ”He's stronger than you'd think.”
”Okay. I'll lay down. How's that?” Hoffman asked, dropping to his knees. ”Can't run if I'm lying down, right?” He fell forward, landing on his side, and rolled to his belly. ”Just put the cuffs in front. That'll be okay. You oughta try walking in this f.u.c.kin' desert with your hands behind your back, see how you like it.”
Dukane crouched over him.
”Wait!” Lacey said. ”Maybe he tripped on purpose. Just so he'd have an excuse for you to take off the cuffs.”
”Shut the f.u.c.k up,” Hoffman snapped.
”He didn't have much trouble before. Now, when we're in easy shot of a pickup truck, he suddenly can't stay on his feet.”
”Stupid c.u.n.t.”
”Lacey's right,” Scott said.
”Yeah. Okay, up.”
”Up yours. I'm not taking one more step till you change the cuffs. You want to drag me? Go ahead. Have fun.”
”What happened to your spirit of cooperation?” Dukane asked.
”You can f.u.c.kin' carry me.”
”Is that your last word on the subject?”
”d.a.m.n right.”
”Sorry to hear that.” Dukane stepped close to Hoffman's head.
”Are we gonna carry him?” Scott asked.
”I think he'll decide to walk.”
”Think again, a.s.shole.”
Dukane stomped on his head, smas.h.i.+ng his face into the gravel floor of the gully. Lacey cringed, shocked by the sudden violence. As she turned away, Scott took her into his arms. She pressed her face to his chest. Behind her, Hoffman's yell of pain became hysterical gasping.
”You...you...oh you b.a.s.t.a.r.d! I'll kill you, I'll kill you!”
”You'll walk with us,” Dukane said, his voice quiet and calm.
”I'll tear out your heart, you motherf.u.c.kin'...”
Lacey heard a thud, a grunt.
”You...!”
”Time to go,” Dukane said. ”You won't like it, if I lose my patience.”
”It's all right,” Scott whispered. He eased Lacey away, and she saw Dukane jerking the man to his feet.
”My f a c e !”
”Not much loss, Hoffman. n.o.body can see it, anyway.”
Hoffman turned to Lacey. She stared at his moonlit face, its eyeless sockets, its snarling mouth, gaps in its forehead and left cheek where the makeup or skin had been sc.r.a.ped off, a few patches of tinted flesh hanging like torn cloth. ”Your fault,” he told her. ”I'll get you for this.”
”You'll get no one,” Dukane said, and shoved him toward the slope.