There was nothing to do. No help was coming. There was no way out.
The door opened, and two boys appeared. They carried two heavy hemp ropes, now visibly soaked in blood. They walked up to Evans and carefully knotted the ropes to his hands. Evans felt his heart start to pound.
The boys finished and left the room.
Outside, the crowd was roaring.
"Don't worry," Kenner said. "They'll let you wait a while. There's still hope."
"Hope forwhat? " Evans said in a burst of anger.
Kenner shook his head. "Just...hope."
Jennifer was waiting for the next kid to come in the room. He did, finally, and took one look at the fallen boy and began to bolt, but Jennifer had her arms around his neck. She yanked him back into the room with her hands over his mouth so he couldn't scream and she made a sudden, quick twist and let him fall to the ground. He wasn't dead, but he would be there a while.
But in that moment when she had looked outside, she had seen the keys.
They were out in the thatch passageway, on a bench across the hall.
There were two guns in the room now, but there was no point in firing them. It would just bring everybody on them. Jennifer didn't want to look outside again. She heard murmuring voices. She couldn't be sure whether they were coming from the next room or from the hallway. She couldn't make a mistake.
She leaned back against the wall by the door and moaned. Softly at first, and then louder, because the crowd was still very noisy. She moaned and moaned.
Nobody came.
Did she dare to look out?
She took a breath and waited.
Evans was trembling. The blood-soaked ropes were cold on his wrists. He couldn't stand the waiting. He felt like he was going to pass out. Outside the crowd was slowly becoming quieter. They were settling down. He knew what that meant. Soon it would be time for the next victim.
Then he heard a quiet sound.
It was a man coughing. Softly, insistently.
Kenner understood first. "In here," he said loudly.
There was a whacking sound as a machete blade poked through the thatched wall. Evans turned. He saw the slash in the wall widen, and a thick, brown hand reached in to pull the slash wider open still. A heavily bearded face peered through the gash at them.
For a moment Evans did not recognize him, but then the man put his finger to his lips, and there was something in the gesture that was familiar, and Evans suddenly saw past the beard.
"George!"
It was George Morton.
Alive.
Morton stepped through into the room. "Keep it down," he hissed.
"You took your sweet time," Kenner said, turning so Morton could unlock his cuffs. Morton gave Kenner a pistol. Then it was Evans's turn. With a click, his hands were free. Evans tugged at the hemp ropes, trying to get them off his wrists. But they were securely tied.
Morton whispered, "Where are the others?"
Kenner pointed to the room next door. He took the machete from Morton. "You take Peter. I'll get the girls."
With the machete, Kenner stepped out into the hallway.
Morton grabbed Evans by the arm. Evans jerked his head.
"Let's go."
"But--"
"Do as he says, kid."
They stepped through the slash in the wall, and into the jungle beyond.
Kenner moved down the empty hallway. There were openings at both ends. He could be surprised at any moment. If the alarm went up, they were all dead. He saw the keys on the bench, picked them up, and went to the door of the women's room. Looking into the room, he saw that the poles were abandoned. He didn't see either of the women.
Staying outside, he tossed the keys into the room.
"It's me," he whispered.
A moment later, he saw Jennifer scramble from her hiding place behind the door to grab the keys. In a few seconds she and Sarah had both unlocked each other. They grabbed the boys' guns and started for the door.
Too late. From around the corner three heavyset young men were coming toward Kenner. They all carried machine guns. They were talking and laughing, not paying attention.
Kenner slipped into the women's room. He pressed back against the wall, gestured for the two women to go back to the poles. They made it just in time as the men entered the room. Jennifer said, "Hi, guys," with a big smile. At that moment, the men registered the two fallen boys and the blood-soaked earth, but it was too late. Kenner took one; Jennifer got the second with her knife. The third was almost out the door when Kenner hit him with the butt of the gun. There was the crack of skull. He went down hard.
It was time to go.
Out in the courtyard, the crowd was growing restless. Sambuca squinted. The firstwaitman was long dead, the body cooling at his feet, no longer as appetizing as he was before. And those in the crowd who had not tasted glory were clamoring for their piece, for the next opportunity. The women were resting their bats and pipes on their shoulders, talking in small clusters, waiting for the game to continue.
Where was the next man?