Tracy was the first to compose herself. 'You faking, or what?'
'Or what.'
'Thirsty?'
'What have you got?'
'Black Russian, Brandy Alexander, and water.'
'I'll try your water.'
She bent down, lifted his head slightly, tilted the canteen so the water could trickle into his mouth. He swallowed a few times.
'Thanks.'
Season brought a first-aid kit over.
'Where'd you get that?'
'We passed through Savvytown on the way here. Everyone running around like crazy. With Flex and Savvy dead, it looks like Lido's taking over. Anyway, the confusion gave me a chance to steal this out of the infirmary.'
'You know what you're doing?'
'I bandaged my collie's leg once.'
'What was wrong with him?'
'Nothing. I was just practicing to be a nurse. I thought I might need something to fall back on in case I didn't become a sex goddess.'
The four of them worked over his wounds together; Season and Tracy took everything from the waist up, Rydell and Molly handled the rest.
Eric closed his eyes, drifted in and out of sleep. Exhaustion dulled the pains a little, though he did wake up when they picked the slivers of glass out of his neck. And he felt the tug on his pants leg as they cut the material and tried to soak it where it had burned onto the skin. They bound his cracked ribs, cleaned the cuts and burns, and forced him to drink hot lentil soup that Tracy made from a box of instant Knorr's mix they'd also picked up in Savvytown.
'Why aren't you following Fallows' men?' he finally asked. There was no accusation in the tone. It was just a question, like why do you like the color red.
'We tracked them for a while,' Rydell said. 'But then we decided to come back for you. See if you needed help.'
'You are the worst bunch at following orders I've ever seen. If this were the army…' He laughed dully. 'But it ain't.'
There was a long pause no one bothered to break. They knew what was coming and weren't anxious to hurry it.
'Annie's dead,' Eric said.
'We know,' Tracy said. 'We saw her.'
Eric nodded, told them what had happened. They listened without questions, letting his voice unwind slowly in the morning breeze. Two miles behind them the black smoke from the smouldering church swirled in the air like a painted tornado. Ashes snowed lightly around them as they listened, the smell of a fresh fire somehow nostalgic.
'Cruz is dead. But Fallows is still alive. With Timmy. I followed for a while, but they're on horseback.'
'We'll find them,' Tracy said. 'Just rest for now.'
'Nope. No time.' Eric dragged himself to his feet, using the tree trunk for support. He winced at the pain in his chest, rubbed the bandage Season had wrapped around his ribs. 'Did that collie live?'
'Yeah,' she snapped, 'because he was smart enough to know when to lie down. Unlike others of less breeding.'
Molly cupped her hand under Eric's elbow. 'She's right, you know. You could make things worse by moving around.'
Eric nodded. There was no point in describing how he'd wandered through the jungles of Nam for two weeks with worse injuries. Then again, he was younger then. The young can feed off hate much better; it tastes as good when you're older, but it lacks nutrition. 'Lend me a bow,' he said to Tracy who was still carrying the crossbow they'd taken from Foxworth,
She handed it to him, and the quiver.
'Fallows head south?' Rydell asked.
'First things first?' Eric said.
'Huh?'
'I mean we have other business first.'
'Other business?' Tracy said, puzzled. 'What are you talking about?'
He hooked a thumb over his shoulder. 'Savvytown.'
'What are you saying?'
'I'm saying that now's the time to hit them. If Lido takes charge it will be business as usual, only worse.' He thought of Annie, saw her haunted face. 'And, yeah, maybe I do owe those women something.'
'What about Fallows and Timmy?'
'I won't make much time on foot against their horses. So I'd be better off going back and taking one of the horses at Savvytown. Once we're finished there. Any questions?'
There were none.
31.
The destruction of Savvytown took less than an hour.
The fighting was limited to the killing of four of the Devil's Dancers. Three of them were standing together waiting for Lido to come out of Savvy's trailer where he'd gone to get the feel of being in charge. He'd never been in charge of anything before except in third grade when he delighted the faculty by volunteering to take a collection for poor Mrs. Leander when she took sick with pneumonia. Lido had promised to buy her some flowers, but had stolen the money instead and claimed he'd lost it. This trick had worked several times through school before he dropped out after his third time through tenth grade. He poked around Savvy's desk, played with Flex's gun, but other than that he didn't know what to do except what they'd always done. Keep the whores on their backs and the whiskey still boiling. Maybe mark the cards a little. Or change the name of the town to Lidotown or Lidoville. It didn't matter what you called the place, from now on it was Fat City for the Devil's Dancers.
He was admiring his new alligator skin shoes when he heard the noise. Something like a zipper being closed too fast. Then a scream. Randy hollering, 'Fucking shit!' More screams.
Flex's 9mm was in his hand as he charged out the door, saw Alex and Greaseball lying in the dirt with a couple arrows sticking out of them at all kinds of angles. It made him think someone was going to start yelling, 'Indians! Circle the wagons.'
Randy was crouching behind a trailer, popping out to blast both barrels of his shotgun, then ducking back and reloading.
Lido dove for cover just as two arrows whizzed toward him. He caught a glimpse of the blonde with the big tits shooting her bow from behind the porch of the infirmary. What the hell were they doing back here? They'd done their damage and split. He figured they'd be miles away by now. Shit. What to do now? He raised his gun and fired twice at her, but missed. Damn thing pulled to the left.
'Over there,' Randy warned, 'behind the craps trailer. A guy with a bow.'
Lido waved thanks, but saw Randy suddenly slapping at his neck. Something sticking out of it, an arrow. No, too small. A dart. Stepping out behind him, the nip girl. She threw another dart into his back and Randy spun angrily with his shotgun. But before he made it all the way around, a dark-haired girl with a bow popped up and fired an arrow into Randy's stomach. Lido could see the tip poking out his back as he fell.
'Fucking cunts,' he growled, aiming the 9mm at the dark-haired girl, adjusting for the pull to left. Tightening his finger.
