Afraid

had become like an extra appendage. Working by feel, Josh flicked open the corkscrew and held the knife in his fist, so the pointed end protruded up through his clenched fingers.

Santiago squeezed. Josh screamed in pain and horror and then punched Santiago in the side of the head. The corkscrew embedded itself in Santiago’s ear, but the man didn’t budge, didn’t release Josh.

The pain in Josh’s groin became so bad his vision actually went red. Hand still on the knife, he began to twist the corkscrew. He punctured something—probably the eardrum—and Santiago howled. He released Josh’s balls and brought both hands up to his neck. His thumbs quickly found Josh’s carotid arteries and pressed down. Josh’s vision went from red to black, but before losing consciousness he brought his hand back and slapped at the side of Santiago’s head, forcing the knife in deeper.

Santiago went rigid, then collapsed onto Josh, dead weight.

Josh coughed, disentangling himself from the stronger man, pushing him off. He began to crawl, trying to put as much distance between him and Santiago as possible. His testicles glowed with pain, and like most testicular pain it lingered like a gong being struck, refusing to fade away even though the damage had already been done. Josh felt his stomach flutter, and then he threw up between his hands onto a bed of fallen leaves.

He paused for a moment, trembling, and then felt something large on his back.

Ajax.

Josh’s jacket bunched up around his shoulders and chest as the giant clenched a handful of material and lifted Josh into the air. Josh’s arms and legs untangled beneath him, and he kicked out but found only air.

Josh felt his head become wrapped in something, and he realized it was the huge man’s fist, his enormous fingers encircling it like a baseball.

He knew what came next. The twisting. The popping. The pulling. Josh clenched his teeth and made his neck stiff. When the wrenching began, he fought it with his whole body, refusing to let this happen.

His efforts weren’t enough. Ajax’s strength was inhuman, and slowly, inexorably, Josh’s head began to turn. He strained against it, so hard it felt like his temples would explode, straining even as his chin touched his shoulder and the hyperextension began. Josh couldn’t imagine a sound more terrifying than hearing his own spine cracking. He screamed in his throat. He shut his eyes, and tears squeezed out of their ducts.

“Ajax!” Sheriff Streng’s voice. “That pressure you feel in the back of your neck is a .45. Even someone as big as you wouldn’t be able to handle a few slugs in the vertebrae. Put him down, or I’ll fire.”

Ajax continued to hold Josh, but the twisting stopped.

“The only thing stopping me from killing you is that I have some questions I want to ask. Now stop fucking around and put down the firefighter!”

Ajax’s hands opened and Josh fell onto all fours. He took in a gulp of air, let it out as a brief cry of relief.

“Now get down on your knees, big boy. I’m getting a neck strain staring up at you.”

Ajax complied. Josh scrambled around behind him, next to Streng. It was difficult to make out in the dark, but Josh saw the sheriff raise a hand up, then bring it down hard against the side of Ajax’s head. Ajax flopped over.

“Shoot them,” Josh said, a sob still caught in his throat. “Shoot them both.”

“I lost the gun. All I’ve got is a rock and a tree branch, and I just dropped the rock.”

Josh considered their options. Their best chance would be to kill them while they were incapacitated. They could grope around in the dark for the gun. Or maybe find his knife. Josh didn’t know if he could stomach the actual killing, but he could leave that up to the sheriff.

“We need to run,” Streng said.

“But—”

“I know what you’re thinking. But what if one of them wakes up before we find a weapon? Then we’re both dead. These guys are too skilled, too strong.”

“Maybe Ajax has a gun or a knife on him.”

“You want to frisk him?”

“We have to try.”

Josh’s spirit was willing, but his feet did not want to go anywhere near Ajax. Santiago scared him in a bullying, sadistic way, but Josh considered him still human. Ajax was like a creature from a bad dream, a monstrous force of nature. He didn’t seem to be the same species, or even to belong on the same planet.

But the only way to stop being afraid was to kill him, and the only way to do that was to search him for weapons.

Josh quickly dismissed using his flashlight, as it might wake his tormentors up. He put his hands out before him and walked cautiously through the darkness, trying not to smack into any trees. His knees bumped into Ajax and he drew in a sharp breath. He reached down, amazed that he could touch his chest without bending over. This guy was freakishly huge. Time became measured in heartbeats, only a finite number remaining before the creature woke up.

Josh screwed up his courage and felt around for the giant’s belt. He found a Velcro pouch, ripped it open. It held a smooth metal container, and some kind of electronic gizmo, but no weapons. Josh pocketed the box and continued around the perimeter of his hips. A canteen. Josh took it, attached it to his own belt.

Ajax moved, shifting away. Josh stood absolutely still, fighting the impulse to flee. He needed to finish this up fast.

He patted down the rest of Ajax’s waistline but found nothing else. Josh wondered why Ajax didn’t have a gun and then realized that the man’s enormous fingers probably would be too big to squeeze a trigger. Then why not a knife, or some other weapon? Maybe in his vest.

Josh reached up, fingers exploring. The material was soft, pliable. It amazed Josh that it was actually bulletproof. He found an empty pocket, and then a zipper that was stuck. Ajax’s chest rose and fell beneath his hands, so huge that Josh felt like he was frisking a fallen horse.

“I found matches, and some capsules.” The sheriff’s voice startled Josh. He must have been searching Santiago. “You?”

“A container, some sort of electric thing, and water.”

Josh reached up higher, touched Ajax’s throat. Any thought of breaking the man’s spine while he slept vanished when Josh realized how large it was. It would be easier to snap a log in half.

“My knife should be in his ear,” Josh told Streng.

“Not there. Maybe he pulled it … umph.”

A gentle rustling sound. Then the forest went quiet.

“Sheriff?”

Streng didn’t answer. Josh strained to hear but heard only the steady rasp of Ajax’s breathing.

“Sheriff Streng? You okay?”

He felt foolish the instant it left his lips. Of course he wasn’t okay. Santiago must have woken up. Maybe Streng was already dead. Why hadn’t they run away like the sheriff suggested?

Ajax shifted, emitting a low growl. Josh jumped back. He considered taking off, finding County Road H, following that into town. Maybe he’d be able to flag down a car. Once he got to Safe Haven he could call the state cops. He faced the woods, his legs itching to bolt.

Not without the sheriff, he told himself.

Then he turned, clenched his fists, and headed toward Santiago.

• • •

Fran had never been so cold. Her whole body—not just her bound hands—felt numb, and her teeth chattered. But when she saw the large uniformed figure standing on the dark road, Fran turned and started down the embankment, back into the river.

“Hey! You okay?”

Fran didn’t stop. The voice didn’t belong to Taylor, but she didn’t trust anyone walking alone at night. She tried to keep her balance, to plant her feet firmly after every step, but the slope was steep and she was still dripping. Her damp heel slid on a patch of weeds and she fell onto her back. Before she could move again a flashlight beam hit her face, prompting a wince.