The girl scrambled over the edge of the pen and reached out to pull the first of the children over.
Then something big and dark moved out of the rain, and they all looked up in horror.
Charlie Pink-eye stood there above them. He held a pistol in one hand, and the barrel was pointing straight at Nix’s face.
52
“WELL, I’LL BE A ONE-EYED SKUNK,” YELLED CHARLIE PINK-EYE SO LOUD that Benny could hear him through the rain, the laughter, and the noise of the fistfight. All of the men who were clustered around the burning tent stopped and turned to see their boss standing by the pig pen, pointing a gun at the red-haired girl who had escaped the day before. They laughed as if this was some new form of entertainment, and the whole mass of them broke into a run to go share in the fun. Vin pushed Joey away from him, and the pair, bruised and bloody, got to their feet and staggered along as well.
Benny came out of hiding and ran low and fast to the shadowy cleft between two of the wagons. There was a big bonfire that had been sheltered from the rain by a thick stand of tall pines. He craned his neck to see what was happening.
“Move one muscle, little darlin’,” said Charlie, “and I’ll cut my losses and leave you for zom meat. Don’t think I won’t.”
Benny’s heart froze in his chest at those words. He climbed onto the side of the wagon for a better view. Despite the rain, his mouth went dry at what he saw. Nix, covered in mud, stood inside the pen, and Charlie stood on the other side of the rail, his pistol held in one rock-steady hand. Stark terror and raw hatred commingled on Nix’s face, transforming her beauty into a mask equally as feral as Lilah’s, but in some indefinable way, more savage. Perhaps it was because Lilah had never been civilized, and any thought she felt was immediately and unthinkingly displayed on her face, whereas Nix had always been controlled and self-aware. What Benny saw now was her unguarded, naked emotion.
Two of the men climbed over the fence and closed in on Nix from either side. It was clear they did not consider her a major threat, but they were nonetheless cautious of the big-bladed hunting knife she held. Charlie used the barrel of his gun to gesture to the knife Nix held clutched in her fist. “Drop that pig sticker, little darlin’.”
Nix did not drop the knife. She clutched it to her chest, cutting desperate looks to her left and right for some way out.
Charlie swung the barrel of the pistol away from her and aimed it at the twelve-year-old. “Drop the knife, girl, or I’ll put a hole in this little cutie.”
The girl, seeing her death, straightened and held her head high. Then she spat into the mud at Charlie’s feet.
Charlie thumbed the hammer back.
Nix dropped the knife. It struck point-first into the mud and stopped there, standing straight out from the ground like King Arthur’s sword. Nix looked down at it with regret. One of the men laid a heavy hand on her shoulder.
Benny darted through the shadows until he could see the big bonfire on the other side of the wagon. Working quickly, he opened the satchel and removed a few items that he hoped he’d live long enough to use, and then he tossed the bag with a slow underhand pitch, straight into the fire. It struck the center of the blaze and kicked up a huge tower of sparks, but when the men in the crowd turned to see what had happened, Benny was already back into the darkest corner of shadows, totally invisible.
“What the hell was that?” demanded Charlie.
“Nothing, boss,” said one of the bounty hunters. “Log shifted in the fire.”
Nix took that moment. She suddenly bent forward and grabbed the handle of her knife. She pivoted as fast as she could, and Benny saw a flash of steel and then the guard to her left suddenly bent double and let loose with a terrible cry of pain. The other one had been looking at the bonfire and turned at the sound, but Nix spun toward him and then he was falling, the knife buried in his chest.