“If you were smart on this we could see about a share of the profit for you,” said Krebs. “A little pinch, anyway.”
“The baby will stay with me,” Portis said. “There is nothing to negotiate.”
“You’re going to give that baby up,” Arrow said. “Or I will gas you out of the blind.”
Arrow had slid off his pack and assumed a catcher’s crouch behind the tree. He was gangly, stoop-shouldered, and a member of the McGraws—a loathsome Cutler family with militia ties. He had on a camouflage parka and ski mask and held up a cylinder for us to see. It was roughly the size of a soda can and he withdrew it quickly.
“It’s a little homemade mix,” he said. “You might call it tear gas. At least that’s what it most closely resembles in terms of overall effect.”
“Portis,” Krebs shouted, and raised his hands to the sky. “May I have a word with my associate, please?”
“You may stand there and speak to this imbecile if you like, but you will not be taking a single step in any direction.”
“Fine,” Krebs said, then turned to Arrow and called out across the hill.
“What the hell are you doing, Arrow?” Krebs said.
“I’m going to smoke them out,” Arrow said. “Then we will charge Portis. He will be blinded and we will tackle him easily and then get the girl and the baby. You will do your part, Krebs. You will charge or you are not entitled to an even split of the money.”
“You can’t gas the baby,” Krebs said.
“Portis is the target here, not the baby.”
“Yes,” Krebs said. “But the baby is in the fucking blind with him!”
“Baby or no, I’m not going to sit here all day and let him take potshots at us.”
“That’s a can of chicken noodle soup,” Portis shouted.
“Try me and see.”
“He’s gone rogue on this,” Krebs said. “Portis, I don’t know what he’s got in that can.”
“I’m counting down from ten,” Arrow shouted.
“Arrow!” Krebs shouted.
“Back off, Krebs. I’m going to flush them from that blind and if Portis leaves the baby in there to breathe the gas then it is his own fault. Nine!”
“Goddamn it,” Krebs shouted. “Just come out with that baby, Portis!”
“He’s bluffing,” Portis said.
“I don’t think he is,” Krebs said, and retook his cover in the snow.
“I’m not bluffing one bit,” Arrow said. “Eight!”
Portis looked at me and then at Jenna.
“Is that really gas?” I whispered.
“I suspect,” he said. “He’s a regular Einstein with them gases. Probably came out on this venture based solely on the possibility that he might get to let off one of his prized grenades.”
“What if he’s bluffing, though?”
“It’s not our bluff to call. Not with Jenna sitting right there in your lap.”
“Seven!” Arrow shouted.
“I can’t believe I drove us off the goddamn road,” said Portis.
“It’s not your fault,” I said.
“I am sorry I could not get you off this hill.”
“It’s nobody’s fault,” I said.
“Nobody but Shelton Potter’s,” he said. “And the two stooges out there.”
“Six!”
“This is on you, Portis!” Krebs shouted. “This goes any further, it’s on you. Just walk out of the fucking blind already!”
Portis looked at me and shook his head. I was crying but I told him it was okay.
“Go ahead,” I said. “We have to.”
I stood up with Jenna, and as Portis went to make his concession I saw a flicker of light in the woods. The wind pushed west and then there was a sucking sound, a sudden whoosh—like a vacuum on thick carpet—and I swear I felt the heat all the way up in the blind.
Arrow never even screamed. There was only the hiss and pop of the flames as he ran onto the open hillside, the blackened, flailing core at the center of a ball of fire. He was like a comet streaking across cold sky until he stopped and was wholly consumed—a felled star on the white snow burning.
Portis waved at me to stay down and he put the rifle on Krebs, who had stood up and was slack-jawed staring.
“My God,” said Krebs.
“Easy now,” Portis said. “I got the rifle on your chest.”
“He lit it,” Krebs said. “Then burst straight into fire.”
“The fucker only got to five,” Portis said.
“He was going for the element of surprise,” Krebs said.
“He was going to gas this baby,” Portis said.
“He went up like a Roman candle,” said Krebs.
“It was an end he has long been destined for.”
“I’ve never seen anything like it,” said Krebs.
“I am fine with it,” Portis said. “I have never liked him one bit.”
“What the hell was in that can?”
“I don’t know,” Portis said. “But you’re lucky the wind is blowing the other way.”
“I am going to cut my losses and go back down this hill,” Krebs said. “Do not shoot.”
“I won’t shoot,” Portis said. “Because you’re going to help us push that truck out.”
“Fine,” Krebs said. “But then I am through with this mess.”