Marty followed Willy down the grassy slope to where the ground was soggy, and up the embankment to the road. Willy stopped beside the car and turned around to face her.
‘Open the trunk,’ she ordered.
‘Okay,’ said Willy. But he didn’t move.
‘Now.’
‘Whatcha gonna do if I don’t?’
‘Shoot you and open it myself.’
‘You ain’t gonna shoot me.’
‘Just open the trunk and…’
He lurched toward Marty, reaching for the gun.
She pulled the trigger.
Nothing happened.
Willy grabbed the barrel. As he jerked the gun away from her, he punched her in the face.
Marty dropped to her knees.
‘It’s single action,’ he said. ‘You dumb fuck. Gotta
His fist came in, smashing her face again. And again. And again. She slumped backward.
Willy said something, but she couldn’t hear him through the ringing in her ears. She tried to get up. Her legs were bent behind her and her arms wouldn’t work right.
Willy walked toward the rear of his car.
Marty struggled to her knees. Her head drooped. It felt as heavy as lead. The side of her face was burning from the punches. She wanted to let her arms fold, to stretch out on the ground and lie there, on and on.
Instead, groaning with pain, she raised her head. She saw Willy open the trunk of the car. She wanted to ask him what he was doing, but she didn’t have the strength. Then she saw him raise the revolver, cock it, and aim into the trunk.
‘NO!’ she screamed.
The gun blasted, leaping in his hand.
Marty struggled to her feet and staggered to the back of the car. Before Willy could grab her, she glimpsed Dan’s face in the darkness of the trunk.
The top of his head was partly gone.
‘NO!’
She kicked and squirmed in Willy’s arms, but couldn’t get loose until her teeth found his ear and she bit it hard. His yell of pain stunned her for a second. Then she realized that he had let go of her.
She dashed to the edge of the embankment and jumped as far as she could. She made it almost to the bottom before her heels hit the wet grass. Her legs flew forward and her rump hit the slope. She slid the rest of the way down, then scrambled to her feet and ran, splashing through the soggy grass.
‘Stop!’ Willy shouted.
Her legs chugged, carrying her up the rise on the other side of the ditch.
From behind her came the sound of a metallic
The gun hammer dropping.
But there must’ve been no live round in the chamber, because there was only the
She reached the top of the slope.
Broke into a sprint for the woods.
A root snagged her foot.
As she lurched forward, falling headlong, a gunshot split the night.
30
Willy grinned when he saw the girl walking backward alongside the road ahead, her thumb out. The same girl he’d tried to stop for, back near that town.
She must’ve passed his car while he’d been out in the woods with Marty.
She’d gone a pretty good distance, too.
A mighty quick walker.
He stopped his car beside her. ‘Want a lift?’ he called out the passenger window.
‘Man, oh man,
The light inside the car came on when she opened the door, and Willy got a good look at her.
Nice. Real nice.
He always did like the young stuff, and the way this gal’s dress was clinging to her skin… He watched it slide up her thighs when she climbed into the car.
‘Where’re you headed?’ he asked.
‘Gribsby.’
‘I’m going as far as Marshall.’
‘Oh, that’s fine.’ Her voice seemed awfully cheerful for so late at night. ‘That’s great. I’m sure I’ll be able to find a ride from Marshall.’
‘Probably.’
She sighed loudly with relief or pleasure.
She folded her arms below her breasts, slouched down in the seat, and smiled at him. ‘This is great,’ she said. ‘It sure feels good to be heading home.’
31
Rolling over, Marty crossed an arm over her face to block the bright sunlight. Then she opened her eyes. When the air touched them, they felt raw and burning. She saw that she was stretched out along the edge of a forest.
For a while, she didn’t remember. Then it all came back. She moaned as it poured into her like a foul liquid, burning and nauseating.
Suddenly, she sat up. She could see the road.
The road, but no car.
Willy was gone!
The quick movement did it. She twisted sideways and threw up. When the convulsions stopped, she crawled away from the mess.
She heard a car coming. Afraid Willy might be returning, she flattened herself on the ground. After it was gone, she got slowly to her feet. She leaned against the trunk of a birch tree and felt blood begin to trickle down her back.
The forest seemed safer than the road, so she walked into it. Walking hurt badly. Her head was the worst part. It jolted with each step and throbbed madly every time she bent to pass beneath a low limb.
At last, she came to a sunny clearing. Maybe the same clearing as last night. She couldn’t be sure. It didn’t matter, though. The clearing was bright and well hidden. She only cared about that.
Lying face down on the tall grass, she found it softer than she hoped. It didn’t even feel scratchy on her bare arms and legs. It simply matted down under her, soft and dry, as if it had been put there especially to serve as her bed.
She lay with her eyes shut, half awake, half dreaming, and at first she thought that the quietly approaching footsteps were part of her dream. Then she opened her eyes and saw a pair of moccasins.
