The men were afraid of both of them. Of Fallows because they couldn't understand him. He was brilliant, mysterious. Of Cruz because they understood him too well. He was brutal, indifferent. Fallows planned, Cruz executed the plan. Sometimes with more enthusiasm than necessary.
Dirk Fallows focused the binoculars on the man riding ahead. Thin, late thirties. Uncomfortable riding a horse. Nervously glancing around. A cheap slingshot in his hand.
He swung the binoculars back to the waiting women, studying each from head to toe. Only one was old enough to be called a woman. She was a few pounds overweight, but not bad. Marketable. When he looked at the two girls he was momentarily confused, thinking he'd made a mistake, then realizing they were twins. Young, maybe seventeen or eighteen. Pretty. The men would be pleased tonight. After him.
He shifted the binoculars back to the man as he rode deeper into the woods, scouting ahead. A few more yards and he'd be there. Fallows could almost imagine Cruz hulking in some tree, crouching patiently, his giant hands open and waiting. Fallows grinned. It was an image to frighten any man, even himself.
Damn!
The man on horseback stopped. Leaned forward in the saddle, peered into the woods. Waited.
'Shit!' he spat. 'The son of a bitch is turning around.'
The kid at the firepit stopped peeling the flesh of the German Shepherd and looked up. He started to speak, felt the tickle of black shepherd hair on his lips, spit it out. 'Christ.'
Fallows studied the scene with intensity. The man had turned around and ridden back to his family. They were talking. He refocused the binoculars, trying to read the man's lips, but the man's horse turned slightly and all Fallows could see now was the back of his head.
Fallows sighed. Well, if they were deciding to ride the other way, that would be that. They'd be gone, free and clear. But if they were deciding to push ahead, they'd be in Cruz's hands soon. There was nothing to do but wait and see.
Fallows smiled. Wait and see.
'Goddamn it, horse, stay still.' Leo Roth sat helplessly gripping the saddle horn with both hands as his horse moved to the right to nibble some grass. Leo tried to tug the horse back around, felt bad about taking it away from food, threw up his hands. 'You just relax,' he told the horse. 'Bon appetit. I'll just twist around here in the saddle until my spine cracks. Don't bother yourself.'
'Leo, stop fooling with the damn horse,' Cynthia Roth complained.
Leo looked off into the woods at an imaginary audience. 'She thinks I'm fooling with the horse. As if I have any choice here.'
'What'd you see, Dad?' Sarah asked.
'Nothing really,' he shrugged. 'Just a feeling'/'
Cynthia frowned. 'Feeling? What kind of feeling? Like a sick feeling, or what?'
'A feeling, that's all. Nothing specific.'
Suddenly Leo's horse lifted his head and tail at the same time, shivered slightly. Large, greenish droppings plopped to the ground.
Cynthia frantically waved the air in front of her face. 'For God's sake, Leo.'
'What do you mean Leo? It's the damn horse doing it, not me.'
'Couldn't you have moved him first or something?'
'He and I have grown apart. He doesn't confide in me anymore.'
The horse finished, swished his tail back and forth a few times, then dipped his head back to eat more grass.
'Would you look at that?' Leo pointed. 'He doesn't even wait a respectable time. Just eats and shits. What the hell kind of animal is this?'
Cheryl shook her head with disgust, as she always did over her parents' antics. In high school they'd been a constant source of embarrassment, her father always cracking corny jokes with her friends, trying to be one of the guys. Christ. Sarah never seemed to mind, but then Sarah didn't have that many friends. Not the ones that counted anyway.
Leo Roth looked at his family. He knew he was acting the fool, but he was scared and he didn't know why. He didn't want them to see how frightened he really was. He had to be the strong one, keep them all together. He'd even accept Cheryl's obvious contempt now; it was better than having her as terrified as he was.
'So what are we going to do, Dad?' Sarah asked. 'It'll be dark soon.'
'We could make camp here,' Cheryl suggested. 'We passed a stream half a mile back.'
Leo nodded, considering.
'Why don't we just keep going another hour,' Cynthia said. 'That'll bring us a few more miles closer to getting off these creatures for good. I'll break out the can of plums as a treat.'
'Sounds great, Mom,' Sarah said.
'I'm in,' Cheryl agreed.
Leo looked over his shoulder, back into the woods. Nothing moved. A couple birds warbled at each other, but other than that everything was peaceful. Still, something nagged at the back of his neck, some kind of chill. Silly. Maybe. Aw hell, what did he know about the woods. He was just acting like a dumb city boy, jumping at every toad.
'Sweetheart?' Cynthia said.
Leo jerked his horse around, pointed it ahead. 'We go on.'
'One more hour?' Cheryl pleaded.
'Promise. Just one more.' Leo smiled. 'Wagons ho-oh.'
They rode on.
Cynthia concentrated on keeping her horse next to Leo's, though for some reason every time she caught up, his horse would surge ahead a couple steps. 'Leo, don't you want me next to you?'
'Yes, but this stupid horse doesn't.'
'It's Mom's horse he doesn't want,' Sarah explained. 'He wants to be the lead horse. You've got to rein him in more if you want Mom riding next to you.'
He turned around and winked at the girls. 'I don't know, I might have a good thing here.' The girls laughed. Cynthia pretended to be mad, but laughed too.
'A clown I married, A real joker.'
'It was in the cards, dear.'
The girls groaned.
'Even Rodney Dangerfield wouldn't use that one,' Cheryl said.
Leo laughed. 'Where do you think I stole it?'
He was feeling a little better now, safer. There was nothing like the laughter of your own family to make the rest of the world shrink away. Everything would be just fine, he was sure. He felt silly now for still gripping the slingshot in his left hand.
'Do you think things are as bad at Aunt Paula's as they are around here?' Sarah asked.
'I don't know,' Leo said. 'It all depends on the-'
Cheryl screamed. 'Daaddyyyy!'
Men were swarming all around them, dropping out of trees, jumping up from under piles of leaves. They brandished weapons, machetes, bayonets, spears, a couple guns.
'Hold your fire!' someone barked. 'Don't waste the bullets.'
Two men grabbed Cheryl, yanking her roughly off her horse. Leo heard her clothes being ripped, her cries, a loud slap.
His horse was prancing wildly from side to side, but he tightened his grip on the reins and swung the horse around in a tight arc. Digging his heels into its ribs, he urged the horse into the two men who were attacking Cheryl, knocking both to the ground. Cheryl scrambled to her feet, her blouse torn down the front, her pants bunched halfway down her hips. She dashed for her horse, but another man grabbed her around the waist and swept her off the ground.
Leo saw Sarah kick one bearded attacker in the face, watched him slam back into a tree. He glanced over his shoulder as three men leaped at his wife. One clutched a handful of her hair and jerked her out of the saddle. She screamed, but kept fighting, her arms and legs flailing at all of them at once.
