“What the f**k are you saying, Roland?” Eddie roared. “You’re not really thinking about doing it, are you?”
Roland didn’t look down at Jake, and his lips didn’t move as he murmured: “I’ll keep my promise.”
“Yes—I know you will.” Then Jake raised his voice and said: “Put the gun away, Eddie. I’ll decide.”
“Jake, you’re out of your mind!”
The pirate cackled cheerily. “Not at all, cully! You’re the one who’s lost his mind if you disbelieve me. At the wery least, he’ll be safe from the drums with us, won’t he? And just think—if I didn’t mean what I say, I would have told you to toss your guns overside first thing! Easiest thing in the world! But did I? Nay!”
Susannah had heard the exchange between Jake and Roland. She had also had a chance to realize how bleak their options were as things now stood. “Put it away, Eddie.”
“How do we know you won’t toss the grenade at us once you have the lad?” Eddie called.
“I’ll shoot it out of the air if he tries,” Roland said. “I can do it, and he knows I can do it.”
“Mayhap I do. You’ve got a cosy look about you, indeed ye do.” “If he’s telling the truth,” Roland went on, “he’d be burned even if I missed his toy, because the bridge would collapse and we’d all go down together.” “Wery clever, my dear old son!” Gasher said. “You are a cosy one, ain’t you?” He cawed laughter, then grew serious and confiding. “The talking’s done, old mate of mine. Decide. Will you give me the boy, or do we all march to the end of the path together?”
Before Roland could say a word, Jake had slipped past him on the support rod. He still held Oy curled in his right arm. He held his bloody left hand stiffly out in front of him.
“Jake, no!” Eddie shouted desperately.
“I’ll come for you,” Roland said in the same low voice. “I know,” Jake repeated. The wind gusted again. The bridge swayed and groaned. The Send was now speckled with whitecaps, and water boiled whitely around the wreck of the blue mono jutting from the river on the upstream side. “Ay, my cully!” Gasher crooned. His lips spread wide, revealing a few remaining teeth that jutted from his white gums like decayed tomb-stones. “Ay, my fine young squint! Just keep coming.”
“Roland, he could be bluffing!” Eddie yelled. “That thing could be a dud!” The gunslinger made no reply.
As Jake neared the other side of the hole in the walkway, Oy bared his own teeth and began to snarl at Gasher.
“Toss that talking bag of guts overside,” Gasher said. “Fuck you,” Jake replied in the same calm voice. The pirate looked surprised for a moment, then nodded. “Tender of him, are you? Wery well.” He took two steps backward. “Put him down the second you reach the concrete, then. And if he runs at me, I promise to lack his brains right out his tender little ass**le.”
“Asshole,” Oy said through his bared teeth. “Shut up, Oy,” Jake muttered. He reached the concrete just as the strongest gust of wind yet struck the bridge. This time the twanging sound of parting cable-strands seemed to come from everywhere. Jake glanced back and saw Roland and Eddie clinging to the rail. Susannah was watching him from over Roland’s shoulder, her tight cap of curls rippling and shaking in the wind. Jake raised his hand to them. Roland raised his in return. You won’t let me drop this time? he had asked. No—not ever again, Roland had replied. Jake believed him . . . but he was very much afraid of what might happen before Roland arrived. He put Oy down. Gasher rushed forward the moment he did, kicking out at the small animal. Oy skittered aside, avoiding the booted foot.
“Run!” Jake shouted. Oy did, shooting past them and loping toward the Lud end of the bridge with his head down, swerving to avoid the holes and leaping across the cracks in the pavement. He didn’t look back. A moment later Gasher had his arm around Jake’s neck. He stank of dirt and decaying flesh, the two odors combining to create a single deep stench, crusty and thick. It made Jake’s gorge rise.
He bumped his crotch into Jake’s bu**ocks. “Maybe I ain’t quite s’far gone’s I thought. Don’t they say youth’s the wine what makes old men drunk? We’ll have us a time, won’t we, my sweet little squint? Ay, we’ll have a time such as will make the angels sing.”
Oh Jesus, Jake thought.
Gasher raised his voice again. “We’re leaving now, my hardcase friend—we have grand things to do and grand people to see, so we do, but I keep my word. As for you, you’ll stand right where you are for a good fifteen minutes, if you’re wise. If I see you start to move, we’re all going to ride the handsome. Do you understand me?”
“Yes,” Roland said.