Part 26 (2/2)
”Lacey?”
”I...He's a monster. He'll try something. He'll try to kill us or...if he does get away, all the innocent people he'll kill...”
”His chances of escape are remote,” said Dukane. ”I think he knows that. As long as he sticks with us, he has some firepower on his side. If I were him, I'd stick with us until I'm sure we've had it. Then I'd chance a break.”
”He's put Lacey through h.e.l.l,” Scott said. ”If he does take you and me out...G.o.d only knows what he'd do to her.” He placed a hand on Lacey's knee, held it tightly. ”I don't want to risk that.”
”All right,” Dukane said.
”Wait.” Lacey covered Scott's hand and squeezed it. ”We can't leave her out there. She...as Matt said, we owe her. Let's give it a try.”
Lacey sat on the floor, her back to the couch, her legs drawn up protectively as Dukane led Hoffman in. One cuff was attached to Dukane's left wrist; the other stood out sideways.
Scott followed, several paces behind, with Jan's shotgun aimed toward the area above the floating cuff.
Lacey raised her revolver and aimed at the same empty s.p.a.ce.
”If it ain't Annie Oakley,” Hoffman said. ”Don't look so worried, huh? I'm doing you guys a favor.”
As they approached the broken front window, Dukane removed the handcuffs. He slid a small carving knife from his rear pocket. ”Take this,” he said. ”But leave it outside once you've cut her free.”
The knife left his hand. He backed away.
”I'm supposed to go out the window, right?”
”Right. We'll open the door on your way back.”
”If I come back, huh?”
”If you don't, you'll end up in Laveda's hands. Sooner or later.”
”Yeah yeah.”
”Get going.”
The knife, hovering several feet off the floor, turned toward the broken window. The end of its handle lowered against the sill.
”Holy f.u.c.kin' s.h.i.+t,” Hoffman said. He sounded impressed. ”Look at them, will you?”
”We've seen.”
”You just want the one underneath, right?”
”Right.”
”Other's dead as a carp.” The knife raised and shot through the opening. ”Ha! Right on target. She can't feel it anyway, huh?” After a pause, he said, ”Look out, belowwww.”
Dukane crouched by the window.
As Scott hurried to the other one, curiosity overcame Lacey's distaste. She joined him, pistol ready, and peered out. Immediately, she regretted it. She gagged, but managed to swallow the bitter fluid that gushed up her throat.
She forced herself not to look away. The arms and legs of both women were spread wide and bound to metal stakes, but the mangled carca.s.s on top hid most of Nancy from her view. Flies swarmed over the tattered skin of Jan's back and rump. The rear of her head had been sc.r.a.ped bald. A splinter of bone protruded from her left arm. Her left leg was dislocated and stretched far longer than the other; Lacey saw a knife embedded in its b.u.t.tock.
As she watched, the knife slid out. It moved slowly over the ground to the staked foot, and sawed through the rope. Though Nancy's foot remained bound to Jan's, it was now free of the stake. It didn't move.
The knife crossed the area between the spread legs, and cut the next rope.
It dropped out of sight beside the legs, and reappeared sliding along the ground near Nancy's outstretched left arm. It cut through the rope, then returned over the ground to her side. It appeared again near the feet, crossed the s.p.a.ce between them, and moved up the other side. It snaked the length of Nancy's right arm, sawed through the rope.
Dukane stepped to the door.
The women's feet wobbled slightly. Then they rose from the ground and the bodies jerked in to motion. Gunfire broke the silence. Bullets kicked up dust around the dragging bodies. Dark matter burst from Jan's back. Her head jumped, pieces exploding away.
Dukane threw open the door.
The bodies bounced up the low stoop. More bullets smacked into Jan, splas.h.i.+ng her like pebbles striking water.
Then they were inside. Dukane kicked the door shut. As slugs pounded through it, he lunged toward the raised feet of the women. The feet began to drop. He swung his pistol, but it swept through empty air. Scott raced to help. Dukane's head snapped sideways. He staggered and dropped to his knees. Scott clutched his own belly. As he doubled, his s.h.i.+rt collar and belt jerked taut. He was lifted high off the floor.
Lacey fired twice at the s.p.a.ce beneath him.
Then he was slammed down. The tile floor pounded aside his hands and knees. His forehead hit with a thud.
Dukane shot over him. Four bullets. .h.i.t the far wall, blasting holes in the plaster, knocking down a framed oil of a desert sunset. He came forward slowly, in a crouch, his head turning as if he thought he might see a target. The gun suddenly flew from his twisted hand. He grunted as the front of his pants dented in. His nose jerked sideways, spouting blood. Throwing himself forward, he reached out and fell.
Lacey fired above his back. Her bullet smacked the wall. She aimed over his head and fired again. His head jumped. For a sinking instant, she thought she'd hit Dukane. Then the head snapped down, thudding the floor. He went limp.
Lacey pushed herself to her feet. She stood with her back to the wall, pistol forward. Dukane and Scott both lay motionless on the red tile floor. She breathed hard. Her heart felt ready to explode.
”My turn,” Hoffman said.
From the left.
She shot at his voice. Splinters burst from the hall door frame.
”Time for fun and games.”
She aimed again, then hesitated, realizing the sixshot pistol held only one more live cartridge. If she missed with this one...
She knew a target she couldn't miss.
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