He slanted his eyes at his grinning friend. Ellis could tell a signal had passed between them. She gripped the knife handle. She had to stay calm, be smart, but her brain was a frenetic rush of adrenaline screaming for her to run.
“How about we take a moment to study a few trees?” the red-blond said.
The men lunged at her. Ellis thrust the knife at the blond’s chest. He ducked and grabbed her arm. She punched him with her other arm and kicked at his groin. The bearded man jerked her away from the blond by her left arm. Something cracked in her wrist, but she felt no pain. She screamed and kicked and fought wildly.
But it ended as it always did. As it had for thousands of years. They had her trapped on the ground. The blond straddled her legs. The bearded man had her arms pinned over her head. Blood seeped fast out of one of her nostrils. Her lips tasted salty, were already swelling, and her right cheek throbbed.
The blond held up her antler-handle knife, making a show of studying it. “This is a nice hunting knife. An old one.” He looked into her eyes. “Do you know how to use this? Do you hunt?”
She looked away from his face.
“I’ll take that as a no,” he said. “You shouldn’t be playing around with weapons you don’t know how to use.” After a long pause, he said, “How about I give you a lesson?”
She closed her eyes. She wouldn’t watch. She couldn’t.
“I know all about what’s inside bodies. Deer, possums, people. I know where you can put a knife so it hurts bad but doesn’t kill. I don’t want you dead when we do this. But you have to pay for the stupidity of pulling a knife on a man who knows how to use it.”
He pushed up her shirt, baring her stomach, and jerked down the waist of her pants. He swirled the knife point on her left side.
She squeezed her eyes tight. She thought she’d die of fear. Was it possible? She wanted to. Or at least lose consciousness.
“Right here,” he said. “I can poke it here and miss all the vitals. It will only hurt. I promise. You won’t die.”
“Hey,” the bearded man said, “you’re not really going to—”
The blade stabbed into her. Hot. It felt hot. She screamed.
“Jesus Christ!” the bearded man said.
The blond laughed. “Don’t barf. At least not on her. I don’t want to deal with that when I’m on her.”
Ellis heard them, but their words didn’t register. She felt like she was in a dark room. A little room that had no air. Pain replaced the air, and she couldn’t breathe pain. She was dying. He’d said she wouldn’t die, but she had to be dying.
“Let her go,” the blond said.
She felt the weight of both men lift from her. Her hands now free, she instinctively reached for the knife handle protruding from her abdomen.
The blond grabbed her hands. “No, it stays. If you try to take it out, I’ll find a new spot for it. Just stay still and it won’t hurt as much.”
He was right. It didn’t hurt as much when she didn’t move.
But he was taking off her boots. And her pants.
He wasn’t going to do that.
He will not. Through the pain, her mind suddenly became clear. This time she had to plan better. She would have one chance. Just one. She had to do it at the perfect moment.
“You all right down there?” he asked. He was standing over her, unbuckling his belt.
She sobbed. She had to make him think she’d given up. But she was watching his every move, getting ready.
His pants were open, pulled partway down. He was going to leave them on while he did it. That might be better. Tie up his legs.
“Stay still so I don’t knock the blade handle,” he warned.
She readied herself. One chance. Just one. She whimpered like a wounded puppy, but inside she calculated how to rip out his throat.
She was right. Leaving his pants on had been a mistake. He had to put his full weight on his hands to balance. Ellis ripped the knife out and jerked it upward into his chest. Or his belly. She had no idea where it went, but she’d shoved as hard as she could, and she was strong from climbing mountains and hauling water. The knife sank deep.
She hardly heard his screams, she was so desperate to get out from under him. She shoved him, and he fell over on his side, staring wide eyed at the knife sticking out of the right side of his stomach. Her knife. The hunting knife had been passed from her great-grandfather to her grandfather to her.
Ellis stumbled to her feet and yanked the knife out of him. He wailed.
“I know how to use a hunting knife!” she screamed. “I know how to use it!”
The bearded man threw his fist into her face. Then another. Her left cheek and her right eye exploded. She saw red like splattering blood and white sparks and fell to the ground.
The blond was gasping, blood oozing down his belly. “Dean, help me!” he cried. “Get me in the truck!”
Ellis got up and ran. Into the trees. Deeper and deeper.
She didn’t stop until she hit a log. She fell over it and lay in the dead leaves, breathing hard. Just breathing.
The birds told her when to get up. They were twittering above her. Titmice and chickadees. They knew the sudden violence of predators in the forest. But when the threat was gone, they could fly again.
She risked stirring the leaves. When she stood, she felt her injuries. Sharp pain in her left side. Her left wrist sprained, possibly broken. Her eye already swelling closed. Her cheeks, nose, and mouth were throbbing and caked with blood. Her bare legs and feet were cold and torn up from
