“So am I,” she said. “So am I.”
Noah commanded two of the dogs to attack and two to sit by and watch.
The attackers launched themselves like spears, lean, perfectly balanced, sure of their trajectory. There was little detail to what could be seen of them now. They were blurs more than defined animals.
Aaron had only seconds to try to escape, and that was hopeless. As if the situation wasn’t dangerous enough, he managed to trip over his own feet and fall to the ground. The dogs adjusted their aim exactly, slamming into him with such force that his entire body bounced off the hard earth.
And then began the vivisection. Three skilled surgeons working at the same time and with the most deadly sharp scalpels available could not have done the damage the two animals did in the first few seconds of their attack. One animal concentrated on Aaron’s head and upper torso. The other took everything below.
Blood, bone, pieces of clothing soaked with blood—all gleamed in the moonlight. When Aaron raised a hand for help, you could see that three of his fingers had already been ripped away.
Barely a minute had elapsed since the attack had begun.
Fargo ran to the door, began slamming himself into it. At this point, he was as crazed as the dogs. He had no idea how he could help the man. But he couldn’t stand by and watch all this.
By this time, Nancy was screaming and Stephanie was sobbing and covering her face with her hands. The pitch of her sobs became so shattering that Nancy brought her close in a nurturing hug.
Nancy had already noted that the other two witnesses—Noah and Burgade—were watching the evisceration calmly. Burgade was even dragging on a cigar. They might have been spectators at a side show attraction.
Fargo continued to hurl himself at the door. On his ninth attempt, a shot rang out and a large hole was ripped two inches from his head.
Fargo dove away from the door. Three other shots followed, one on the other. Obviously, Noah didn’t want to be distracted from the bloody spectacle taking place in front of him. Fargo just might get lucky, and break through first. He was strong enough. Best to use a few bullets to dissuade him.
Fargo scrambled to his feet and went to the window. The dogs’ faces and bodies alike glistened with Aaron’s blood.
“He’s dead,” Fargo said. “At least that’s something.” He turned away from the window. The rest would be nothing more than watching the animals feasting on dead meat. Fargo was intrigued to see that the two dogs who’d been forced to sit aside were getting more and more difficult for Burgade to control. Audible commands were no longer enough. He had to lash them both with the tip of his bullwhip. They glared at him with the same crazed and frenzied eyes as the two animals now ripping Aaron’s flesh from Aaron’s bones.
“Noah’s insane,” Nancy said, leading the trembling Stephanie to a corner, where she sat her down. Stephanie had quit sobbing but her hands were still over her face. How tempting to slip away into the fantasy worlds of the people who lived in asylums. And never have to face the brutality of the real world ever again.
Now, they waited.
Noah loved to keep people off guard. Knowing this, Fargo figured that they wouldn’t come for him and the women right away. Noah would let the tension build. Not enough to see them die in the most savage way possible. He had to let the terror build beforehand. Let them know bowel-freezing fear and dread. Let them know true despair. And then come with an abruptness that was almost as brutal as the dogs themselves.
And let the games begin.
The ultimate game.
Man hunting man in a forest filled with dangers of its own.
22
Burgade was the one who noticed that the dog he called Voodoo was acting strangely. While the other dogs sat close together, waiting on Noah’s command, Voodoo sat off by himself making odd noises and looking in the direction of the dock.
Burgade knew the dogs better than he knew any human being. For Voodoo to be upset like this, something must be troubling him. Voodoo was the smartest of the dogs. Burgade always paid attention to him.
Noah stood over what was left of his brother. Pieces of entrails were everywhere in the dust. The dogs had succeeded—not without some difficulty—in separating Aaron’s head from his shoulders. The head, or what was left of it, lay on the edge of the clearing, seeming with its one eye to observe everything that was going on.
Burgade walked over to Noah and said, “They did a good job.”
“It’s a terrible thing when a man doesn’t feel anything for his own brother,” Noah said.
Burgade naturally assumed that Noah—even cold old Noah—was having doubts about having his brother ripped apart by the dogs.
“I don’t think he ever appreciated one damned thing I did for him,” Noah said. “The only thing he ever cared about was himself. Selfish bastard.”
Burgade fought a smile. He should have known that Noah wouldn’t have any regrets. He wasn’t talking about what he’d done to Aaron, he was talking about what Aaron had done to him. Nice to know there was something stable in the world—Noah’s unforgiving heart. Not even Burgade could have looked down at the pieces of his brother and not felt regret. But Noah? No problem.
“Voodoo’s agitated,” he said to Noah.
“That dog’s always agitated.”
“I want to take him down around the dock. See if anybody’s tried to sneak onto the key here.”
Noah pointed his Spencer at the cabin. “I want to start the hunt.”
“But what about Voodoo?”
“To hell with Voodoo. Someday I’m going to shoot that noisy bastard and replace him.”
The thought of shooting one of the dogs did not sit easily with Burgade. His special, if violent, relationship with them made him not only their trainer but protector as well. Yes, funny as it sounded, the dogs needed protection too—shelter, food, and safety from the whims of their crazy old owner, Noah Tillman.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Noah snapped. “Every time I say something about one of those damned dogs, you look like you’re ready to shoot me in the back.”
Not a bad idea, Burgade thought.
Noah sighed. “Dammit, I want to get going on the hunt.” He made a face. “All right. Take Voodoo and check things out. But I want you back here in ten minutes.”
Burgade made a special sound. His Voodoo-only call. The other dogs growled now as they saw Voodoo trot over to their master.
“I won’t be long,” Burgade said as he set off.
“You damned well better not be.”
Actually, Burgade was thankful for this respite from Noah. Even though his boss hadn’t been here long tonight, the tension and resentment Burgade always felt toward the old man was already rolling in his stomach.
“You going to be all right with them? Alone I mean?” Burgade said.
Noah sneered. “Why the hell wouldn’t I be? I’m the one that bought them in the first place, wasn’t I? I was the one that trained them before you came along, wasn’t I? Why the hell
“I was just—”
“Now get the hell going. And get back here right away. This Fargo isn’t going to be easy. This just might be the best hunt I’ve ever had. And I’m not going to let you and Voodoo spoil it for me. You understand, Burgade?”
Burgade nodded.
“Good. Now get your ass out of here.”
