swam awkwardly under their burdens. As they waded ashore, Lander counted the severed limbs. Four arms, but only three legs.
Caught themselves a gimp.
Or snacked on the missing leg.
There’s food for thought.
No heads.
Fancy that.
How could he tell who belonged to what?
No torsos, either.
He stared hard at the legs. They looked like boys’ legs, didn’t they? The one certainly did. It was bigger than the other two, and hairy.
Belonged to a tall chap like Ben.
His eyes jerked to the other legs. They were smaller. Slim, almost feminine.
Ah, but the skin was too dark.
Definitely, too dark. Not the legs of the fair Cordelia.
The chubby girl spoke. She raised an arm and pointed toward Lander.
The boys turned. They all stared directly at him. One pulled a knife from his belt.
Lander pushed through the hanging roots, eyes on the group, heart racing. He moved toward the middle of the stream.
A boy called out to him.
Lander raised both arms above his head fists clenched, and roared.
“Get him!” yelled a voice from behind.
He swung around, glimpsed a pair of savage girls, and dived.
He swam underwater. His heart thundered. His lungs began to burn. He touched the bottom, and pulled himself forward by gripping the slippery rocks.
When he thought his lungs would burst, he arched toward the surface. His head broke free. He spun, and looked back.
Nobody there.
He’d passed the bend.
But they might be coming.
He charged ashore, and scrambled up the bank on his own side of the stream. Then he ran. He dodged trees. He crashed through bushes. He tumbled into a gully, and crawled along the bottom until he came to a dead tree that had fallen across it. He scooted under the old, barkless trunk.
He stared at the gray wood, less than two inches above his face.
Each time he sucked air into his aching lungs, he felt his chest press against the trunk.
They’ll never find me here, he thought.
The wily fox has gone to ground.
As time passed, he heard no pursuers. Nothing to worry about, on that score.
But Lander felt uneasy. He’d seen something back at the stream—something terribly important. But he didn’t know what.
An ugly yellow spider scrambled over the trunk, just above his face. He watched it, hoping it wouldn’t drop. When it was out of range, he tried to concentrate.
What had he seen at the stream?
Girls and boys and bodies.
Arms and legs.
Legs.
The girls had long, slim legs. Not the chubby girl—hers were short and thick. The other two, who showed up late. The two he only glimpsed.
One, he suddenly remembered, had called out in English.
Was that what troubled him? Her English?
No, her legs.
Or the other’s.
Legs.
He tried hard to picture the girls. Both naked and filthy. Bloody. One taller than the other.
Nice tits.
Pubic hair like arrowheads pointing the way down to dark mysteries.
Ah, he would like to give them a roll, to clutch those tits, rut in those hidden holes.
The head of his erection rose against the wood.
He forgot the uneasiness he’d been trying to fathom. He had a new uneasiness, now, an ache that shouldn’t be difficult to cure.
It only required a woman.
A girl.
He squirmed free of the trunk, and stood. He breathed deeply. The morning air was perfume. The perfume of a lovely woman.
He could have taken one last night. He could have taken many. They’d been so available, as he stalked them in the night. If he hadn’t been so timid…
“Wee timorous beastie,” he muttered.
He looked down at his erection, and chuckled.
Not so timorous now.
Nor so wee.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
“Why didn’t they go after him?” Cordie asked.
“’Cause they’re dorks,” Lilly said. “They’re too damn lazy. Or just chicken. Those Thaks can be dangerous, but they’re worth it. You get to keep the whole carcass, and don’t have to share. It’s like a reward—a bounty, you know?”
“What’s a Thak?”
“Like an outcast. If you’re a fuck-up, you get kicked out of the village. Then you’re fair game. The woods are full of ’em.”
“How do you know he was one?” Cordie asked. She stopped dragging the body to wipe sweat out of her eyes.
“You can tell,” Lilly said. “For one, they act crazy”
He
She’d come damn close to calling out. She stopped herself, though. He would’ve tried to rescue her. They’d have killed him, for sure.
“Also,” Lilly said, “you can tell because they’re strangers. If you see a stranger around here, you can bet it’s a Thak. Gotta watch out for ’em. My best friend got killed by one. The shit he did to her…”
Cordie wondered what could shock a girl like Lilly. She didn’t ask. She didn’t want to know.
“One came in the village, just last night. Christ, he killed half a dozen of us. They’re bad. Real bad. Most of us, we never go anyplace alone, case we run into one.”
They resumed dragging the body. It seemed heavier than before. “How much farther’s this village?”
“We’re almost there.”
“God, I hope so.” She struggled forward. The woods were hot and still. Not a breeze stirred.
Sweat rolled down her skin. Kigit’s ankle was slippery in her wet hands, and several times she lost her
