?Finish him!? yells a woman from the throng.
?Kill him, G! Gut that black cur!?
Walt?s stomach heaves, unable to tolerate the mixture of anger and disgust flooding through him. This is like standing in a room where prisoners are forced to fight or copulate for the pleasure of their guards. The Nazis did that, and the Japanese, and probably the jailers of all nations in all epochs of history. Walt knows men who have done it; he witnessed such a fight once at an army stockade. The specter of Abu Ghraib rises in his mind. The terrible truth is that brutality is part of human nature, and all the laws in the world can?t neuter it. That'?s the accursed nub of the thing. Some people in this barn probably think
he?s
obscene?a geezer on the wrong side of seventy with a delicate beauty hardly past twenty. Of course, they don'?t know that being with Ming is simply part of his job, just as being with Nancy had been. Although? the two aren'?t quite the same. Being with Nancy felt like work. Being with Ming feels like the first rush after a good shot of whiskey, dilated into a constant
state of euphoria. Ming is one of those rare women who draws every eye wherever she goes. Every man wants her, and every woman hates her because they can?t be her. Her very existence is an affront to other women?s efforts to attract the opposite sex.
But Walt doesn?'t want Ming for the reason these rednecks thinks he does. She?s beautiful, yes, and she radiates sensuality like a magnetic field. But for him the girl is a living door to the past: a time when he felt more alive to love than at any other time in his life. He can?t bear to think about Kaeko in this obscene place, but the pain of being forced to leave her in Japan returns with even the faintest memory. Walt had been so despondent that he?d gone half out of his head. He?d stopped thinking right, stopped paying attention, and that got men killed in Korea. If it hadn'?t been for Tom Cage, Walt would have died during the retreat from Chosin Reservoir.
Ming touches his arm, stands on tiptoe, and says, ?We must go, Zhaybee. Now.?
?Is the driver here??
She hands him her cell phone and points to a text message on its LCD screen. It reads GET OUT NOW. HELICOPTER SEARCHING FIVE MILES AWAY. HIDE IN WOODS. WILL CALL SOON.
As Walt reads these words, the referee calls a turn, which silences the puzzled crowd. There?s been no turn. Genghis is standing over Mike with his head still buried in the black?s chest.
?Folks,? cries the ref, ?we may be about to get a visit from the sheriff. I designate location number four as the site to finish this battle, if Mike?s still game.?
The crowd begins to swirl around the pit like water around a drain, as people pick up coats, gather children, and toss beer bottles at the overflowing trash cans.
The ref looks at Mike?s handler. ?Is your dog still game??
?Hell, no,? the man mutters. ?Sumbitch is good as dead. You call it. Collins can have the purse.?
At this concession, the crowd explodes into motion. Walt feels like he?s in an ant pile some kid stomped on. Wads of cash change hands as people make for the doors, and nearly everyone has a cell phone jammed against his ear.
?We go now!? Ming says, real fear in her eyes.
?No, we don'?t,? says Walt.
Engines roar to life outside, shaking the barn. Dirt and gravel hammer the walls as the vehicles flee.
?Yes, yes. Must go now!?
?Take it easy. After these yahoos clear out with their dogs, we?ve got nothing to worry about.?
?Helicopter coming!?
The barn is empty now, save for Walt and Ming and a pile of black fur in the pit. Mike?s handler has left him behind. Walt steps down into the pit, kneels beside the valiant bulldog. Thankfully, Mike is dead. Walt closes his eyes for a moment, thinking of soldiers he?d known who died just as uselessly as Mike did.
?You want go to jail?? Ming cries.
Walt isn?t worried about jail. He?s almost certain that the helicopter is being flown by Danny McDavitt. Still, if some gung-ho sheriff?s deputy were to show up on a random raid, Walt would either have to blow his cover to get out of it or spend the night in some parish shithole. With a heavy sigh he stands and climbs out of the pit, then takes Ming by the hand and leads her to the barn door.
?You crazy man?? Ming asks gravely.
Walt thinks of the howling crowd and the bleeding dogs and wonders how he wound up in the middle of nowhere while the real action went down somewhere else.
?Maybe so,? he says wearily.
The limousine waits outside like a long black hearse, its engine purring in the dark. When the driver jumps out and opens the rear door, Walt helps Ming in, then settles back into the leather seat beside her.
?Any sign of that chopper?? he asks.
?It moved off toward the river,? says the driver.
?Good.?
?Are we going back to the boat??
Ming clenches his hand and puts her lips against his ear. ?Hotel now. Make you forget dogs. Yes??
Walt draws back and looks into her bottomless eyes. Back on the
Queen,
outside the Devil?s Punchbowl, they had seemed opaque, but now he feels he could lose himself in their depths.
He looks up and sees the driver watching them in his rearview mirror, smug judgment in his eyes.
?Eola Hotel,? Walt says. ?And if you look back here again, I'?ll cut your right ear off.
Comprende??
?Yes, sir.?
?Then move out.?
CHAPTER
59
Caitlin stands alert on the tin roof of the kennel, her ears attuned to the slightest sound. For a few moments she thought she?d heard the distant drumbeat of a helicopter, but it faded so quickly that she decided it had been some resonant vibration of her feet on the tin. Even if a chopper was searching for her, it would be unable to spot her beneath the shed that shields the kennel from the sky.
It had taken half an hour, but she?d finally got two sacks of puppy chow onto the roof. The Bully Kuttas made no noise other than a sort of strangled cough, and she?d realized that this was what it sounded like when they tried to bark. But they?d followed her as remorselessly as sharks, and she wondered if Linda was right?that they were too smart to be distracted by a pile of puppy chow. Caitlin had searched the storeroom for other possible distractions but had found none. Nor drugs that might sedate the dogs. Quinn had removed everything that might help them to escape.
