“So…you weren’t trying to kill them?”
“That’s not what I said.” He leaned forward again, his voice firm. “I’m saying that I would never lie to you. That’s not what this relationship will be built on.” He reached for her hand again and she pulled away from him. “I’d rather tell you the truth and have you be pissed at me than to lie to you.”
She continued staring through the cracked and broken windshield, avoiding his gaze.
Simon sat back and sighed. “I was shooting to kill. I just couldn’t hit the broadside of a barn with my bad arm.”
She slowed the car and pulled under an overhang at an old gas station. “You’re telling me that you’d rather me be mad at you than to tell me a lie and make me happy?”
He nodded slowly, staring straight ahead. “I gave up drinking for you.” He turned slowly and shook his head at her. “Brown liquor was my only love, and in the old days, I’d kill someone before I’d let them come between me and the bottle.” He sat back and sighed again. “I gave it up for you. Because I…” He paused, not wanting to say the ‘L’ word again. “I care too much to screw this up.”
“And you mean it? You’d rather piss me off than lie to me?”
He nodded. “You’ll get over being mad. If I lied to you, that could destroy our trust. I won’t have it.” He swallowed hard, expecting her to give him an ear full.
She reached over and took his hand. “Let’s go pick out that RV.”
2
Roger winced. “You’re sure it was Simon?”
Buck gave him a hard stare. “It was him. He didn’t have that old leather biker jacket, but it was him.” His features softened momentarily. “He had his arm up in a sling. I’m guessing he got wounded.”
Roger smirked and turned to Hatcher. “I’d bet it was Savage. The other guys on the wall said that he was pretty sure he shot him.”
“Regardless,” Hatcher stated, coming to his feet. “He bailed with another person in tow.” He looked to Buck. “I’m assuming it’s the woman you said was with him.”
Buck held the cold compress to the back of his bead and nodded. “Good assumption.”
“She was a Zulu?” Roger asked.
“Except she could talk.” Buck shook his head. “But she was just as angry.”
“Another assumption is that she’s cured, and didn’t have whatever our two guys caught.” Hatcher poured a cup of coffee and stared at the wisps of steam rising. “Where would he go?”
Roger slid off the corner of the desk. “Who cares? He’s gone, and that’s all that matters.”
Hatcher shook his head. “He swore revenge.” He turned and faced the other two. “We had most of his people with us, so I blew off his threat, didn’t take him seriously. Then after a break, he attacks. Again, I think he’s done, his resources exhausted, only he comes back later with a bunch of Zulus. I assume he’s done this time, but he rallies and attacks. Again.” He glanced at Buck. “This time I am fairly certain he’s dead, and the lunatic shows up again, only now he’s leading the Zulus.” He shook his head as he took his seat. “I can’t assume anything anymore.”
Buck pulled the compress from his head and checked for blood once more. He set it down on the table and slowly came to his feet. “Hatch, you know me. You know I want Simon dead as much as anybody.” He glanced to Roger then back to Hatcher. “And I know this is going to sound crazy, but I can’t shake it from my head.”
“What?” Roger asked, adjusting his arm in the sling.
“Simon had me dead to rights.” He looked to the other two men and sighed. “The woman was holding me at gunpoint and she definitely wanted to kill me.” He leaned on the table and slowly shook his head as he replayed the events. “I honestly thought I was about to die.”
“You were lucky, kid,” Roger stated.
He shook his head again. “Simon wouldn’t let her shoot me.” He looked to Hatcher. “He told me that he’d changed. That he wasn’t the guy he used to be, and I basically told him to fuck off, that I didn’t care. But when it came to nut-cuttin’ time, he stopped her from shooting me.”
“He beat you unconscious,” Hatcher stated matter-of-factly.
“He knocked me out so they could escape. He knew I wouldn’t just let them walk out of there. Not if I was still breathing.”
“What are you thinking, Buck? That’s he’s found Jesus? A kinder, gentler sociopath?”
Buck shook his head. “I don’t know what I’m thinking, I’m just telling you what happened.” He winced as he touched the lump on the back of his head. “Yeah, he cold-cocked me, but he had a point. He didn’t actually ‘hit’ any of us when he was shooting.”
“You said his arm was in a sling,” Roger smirked. “I can tell you that I probably couldn’t shoot for shit with this on.”
“Maybe,” Buck shrugged. “Maybe not.”
Hatcher crossed his arms and gave them both a tight-lipped glare. “I don’t care if he’s Saint Teresa. He’s burned his options, as far as I’m concerned. If we run across Simon again, we smoke him.” He turned and gave Buck a hard look. “Understood?”
Buck nodded slowly, his face unreadable. “Understood.”
“I still like that area for relocating. It’s got a solid wall around it, and Will said it wouldn’t take as much resources as we thought to enclose the front.”
“What about water?” Roger asked.
“We didn’t get that far. Will was going to check if any of the houses were on a well or if it was all city water when Simon popped his ugly mug up.” Hatcher sipped his coffee and glanced at Buck. “We’re going back out
