“Okay, I’ll do as you ask. Just stay calm, Boone,” Krista said.
“No sudden moves, bitch, or the kid gets it.”
“No sudden moves.”
“I can’t believe you’re doing this,” Lipton yelled from the truck. “They’re gonna kill us all. Trust me. I know these men. That’s what they do. They kill everything.”
CHAPTER 41
“Let go of me,” Summer yelled at Fletcher, twisting her arm and trying to pull free as he dragged her forward toward Sergeant Barkley, who was pinned to the ground by a gray-haired guard.
“I’ve been waiting a long time for this,” Fletcher said.
“I thought we were friends.”
“What? Because of what happened when the Scabs had you surrounded?”
“Yeah, that and other things.”
“You just don’t get it, do you, Summer?”
“No. I don’t. There’s no reason for any of this.”
“Spoken like the true believer you are.”
“Believer of what?”
“Right and wrong.”
“And you don’t?” she asked, trying to make sense of the man’s gibberish.
“Doesn’t matter any more. Not after The Event. Now it all boils down to one thing.”
“Yeah, and what’s that?”
“Those that take and those that don’t. There’s simply no room for anything else.”
She wanted to snark at him about how those were two things, not one, but she kept her lips silent. “Please, stop. You need to let us go. We’re no threat to you.”
“Again, none of that matters. This is about taking what’s ours.”
“You keep saying that.”
“And you keep ignoring it.”
“But I don’t know what it means,” Summer said. “Or what you want. Please, we can work this out.”
Fletcher pushed Summer down to her knees next to the dog, then shoved her head forward and pressed her nose into the dirt.
Sergeant Barkley whimpered, his eyes on fire with fear. Or anger. Or pain. She couldn’t tell. Regardless, she was in the same situation as her furry friend.
Fletcher grabbed the back of Summer’s head, taking in a handful of hair with his fingers. He pulled her up to her knees, then spun her head to bring her eyes to his. His tone went deep and purposeful when he asked, “Do you have the courage to hear the silence?”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“The silence. Do you hear it?”
“No. I don’t hear shit. Just you breathing in my ear.”
“That’s the sound of your future. A future of nothing.”
Summer tried to spit at the man but missed. “What are you, nuts or something? Let go of me.”
“The end is here, you little pain in the ass.”
Right then, Krista and Lipton came into view, both of them walking with their arms up.
The big man Fletcher had sent was two steps behind them, carrying a pistol in each hand, looking proud of himself.
When Summer angled her eyes, she saw Horton being led to her position by a towering man with jet-black hair that hung down his back. His facial features indicated he was of American Indian descent.
Dice had Simms by the back of his shirt collar, escorting him to Summer’s position as well. She recognized him—the same man she’d met at the Trading Post when her entire world exploded into a bloody rage.
The Indian shoved Horton, and Dice did the same to Simms, sending them both to the ground on their knees.
Fletcher waved a hand at the big man escorting Krista and Lipton. “Bring her here, Boone.”
Boone didn’t hesitate, dragging Krista over and throwing her to the ground next to Simms.
Then, for no apparent reason, he kicked her in the stomach with a swift, powerful boot, making Krista gasp and double over.
Boone laughed, then grabbed Krista by the back of the neck and swung her head to the side.
Then he punched her, nailing her with a right cross.
She hit the dirt again, spitting out blood.
He grabbed her again, this time pulling her upright to her knees.
“I’m gonna kill you first, Boone,” Krista said after a grimace.
Boone’s mouth twisted into a half smile. “Yeah, that’ll be the day.”
“You see, this is what happens when the Universe decides to rebalance the equation, Krista,” Lipton said in that snide voice of his.
He too was under control of a guard, only his hands were not bound behind his back and his face was not being crammed into the dirt.
If Summer didn’t know better, she would have thought he was part of their team, standing with little emotion.
Right on cue, Lipton turned his focus to Fletcher. “Thank you, Fletch. I wasn’t sure any of my pals back home had noticed I’d been abducted. You won’t believe what they’ve been making me do.”
Krista swung her eyes to Lipton. “You fucking snake.”
Dice stepped forward and unleashed a backhand across Krista’s cheek, making a smack that might have been heard a few counties away.
Krista flopped sideways, her head smashing into the ground.
“All right, that’s enough, boys. It’s time to end this,” Fletcher said to his men as Boone pulled Krista back to her knees.
“Who do you want to start with, boss?” Dice asked.
“Oldest to youngest seems about right.”
The Indian leaned into Horton’s ear. “Looks like it’s your turn, again.”
“Fuck off, Archer,” Horton said, his chin up and shoulders square.
Dice spoke to Horton next, pointing at Summer. “For the second time, that girl is going to get you killed, brother. And yet you still defy us and side with her?”
“On second thought,” Fletcher said, pointing at Simms. “Let’s start with the kid.”
“Wait. No,” Summer said. “Only me. I’m the leader of this expedition, so punish me. Not them. They are just doing what I told them.”
“Belay that order, Fletcher,” Krista said. “Don’t listen to her. I’m the real person in charge here. I’m the one responsible. So let them all go. Except Lipton. You can have his sorry ass.”
“Well, would you look at that, Fletch,” Dice said, looking amused. “We have ourselves a couple of heroes.”
“Heroines, you dumbass,” Summer said, no longer caring what these men thought. “Krista works for me. I alone should take responsibility.”
Fletcher leaned down and brought his mouth to within an inch of Summer’s. “You really don’t understand, do you?”
She turned her head away, needing to give her nose a break from the smell of his breath. “About what?”
“What this is.”
“It’s not punishment,” Dice said, interrupting the conversation. “It’s a clean sweep. As in all of you.”
“All right, let’s do this,” Fletcher said, motioning to Dice.
Dice pulled an eight-inch knife from his hip, then brought it up and around to the front of Simms’ throat, his eyes looking up at Fletcher.
Fletcher raised his free arm, pointing his index finger upward, then brought it down and aimed it at Dice, as if he were giving the signal to start a NASCAR race.