Page 60 of Shane
Jiminy Christmas!Freaked out at the odds stacked against her, Everlee ran a quick hand over her short-cropped hair. Too bad Shane wasn’t there. He’d know what to do and, for sure, he could take down both these men, easy. But he wasn’t and Everlee was, and—
“I ain’t gonna do nuthin’ with that bitch you and Rick took,” Thug One told the new guy now at his side. “Dumb asshole. Talk about a rookie move.”
“Rick’s who grabbed her. Not me!”
“I don’t fuckin’ care! You want her, you climb down into that shithole while I stash Ricky boy outta sight. Far as I’m concerned, she’s already dead. Ain’t no way outta that fuckin’ box you built, and I din’t leave her no food or water or nuthin’. She won’t survive long once we leave, but if you wanna play, Ringo, make it fast and make it lethal. Maeve’s already plenty pissed. She’ll kill both of us if we let her down again.”
By then, he’d dragged Ricky Boy mostly outside, but left one arm with its ham-sized hand draped over the door sill.
“Just make sure you kill her when you’re done messing her up, then take pictures of what’s left of her and send ’em to Maeve. Maybe that’ll keep her off our backs.”
“I ain’t gonna just mess ’er up, Bud. I’m gonna fuck her every which way I can till she dies screaming or choking. Makes no difference to me. No one can hear anything what goes on inside that toybox. Those concrete walls are a foot thick and that box is damned near airtight. No weak little bitch is gonna escape what I’ve got planned.”
When that rat bastard palmed his junk and sniggered, Everlee cringed. He meant to kill her. All the more reason to run.
“Which is why I built it as tight as I did, and why I put it where it is. Simple solutions are best, and I’ve had a lotta fun in that box you call a shithole. You oughta try it some time.” He blew out what sounded like a disgusting satisfied sigh. “Messing up a bitch is what makes a man a man, know what I mean?”
“I don’t, but thanks for the creepy visual, you perv. Maeve ain’t coming back, but if you wanna get on her good side, don’t forget she likes trophies. You got ten minutes, Ringo. Get the hell down there. Do what you gotta do. When you’re done, cut a finger or something off that dead bitch for Maeve’s collection. Then we gotta get gone. I like my hairy balls where they’re hanging, not dangling off Maeve’s rearview mirror like fuckin’ fuzzy dice.”
“Start counting,” Ringo replied almost cheerfully, now hanging by one hand off the silo’s ladder, like the long-armed ape he was. Not that Everlee wouldn’t have used that ladder if she’d known about it before. Turned out that jump had probably saved her life.
With every noisy step Ringo took up, Everlee’s time was running out. She didn’t recall if she’d shut the door to thattoyboxbehind her. As soon as he saw the open door, he’d—
“She’s gone! Shit, you hear me? She’s gone!”
Too late. Time was up.
“Then she’s still inside this here barn,” Bud growled as he tossed Ricky Boy’s arm outside and slammed Everlee’s only escape route behind him. “Oh, girleeeey,” he crooned like the sick bastard he was. “Come out, come out, wherever you are.”
When Hell freezes over.
Jumping off the ladder, Ringo hit the barn floor with a clap of thunder. He crouched low, a switchblade now gleaming in his right hand. “You still got that lighter, Bud?”
“Yup.” Bud dug it out of his pants pocket, along with a pistol that… no, make that a Taser. Guess they wanted her alive for their idea of fun and games. So what was the lighter for?Shit, shit, shit!These morons meant to burn her out.
Everlee shrank deeper into the dark corner. She didn’t have a proper weapon, only the broken chair leg, but no real way forward, and from the way Bud kept flicking the lighter, luck wasn’t on her side. The second he set fire to anything in this place, even the tiniest scrap of leaves scattered across the floor, the dry, dusty air inside the barn would explode. This day was going to get uglier before it was over. But by hell, she’d go down fighting, and maybe she’d get out alive.
Maybe…
Miracles still happened, and Everlee prayed for one now.
“You go that way,” Bud ordered slyly, like he thought she couldn’t hear them breathing. “I’ll check the stalls, start a few small fires in there, get the place burning, and flush her your way. Catch her fast though. Once this place starts burning, it’ll go quick.”
“Let the fun begin,” Ringo whispered.
“Just don’t lose her.”
“No worries. I like a good chase before a barbecue.”
Everlee heard a click that could’ve been a lock. Which spelled doom if her only escape was now lost. Sometimes discretion was the better part of valor. Only problem with that philosophy was Everlee wasn’t born with discretion or patience or a think-twice chip in her brain. Slow and steady were not her modus operandi—never had been, wasn’t going to suddenly start happening now. She acted and reacted, that’s who she was. She was impulsive and she was on the verge of going toe-to-toe with these assholes. Either die trying to escape or be tortured and burned alive. There was no in between. No time to wait. She might just get a sandwich out of these guys before they made a meal out of her, but by hell, she refused to hide like a sissy coward crying for mercy.
Not me, damn it! If I’m going to die, so the hell are you two!
Stepping into the open, she kicked a half bale of old hay out of her way and came face-to-face with Ringo’s killer grin. Man, he was an ugly sucker. A wicked scar ruined one of his cheeks, then hung a sharp curve into his mouth, making his lips a gnarled mess that twisted his face into a huge, creepy grin. He could’ve played theJoker. Wouldn’t have needed make-up.
His eyes lit up and his ugly lip quirked higher, adding to the wholeChainsaw Massacrevibe he had going. “There you are,” he purred, then yelled over his shoulder, “Found her! Come get a piece of her before I end her.”
That brought Bud to his side. Big, dumb Bud, still flicking his lighter in this tinderbox of a barn.