Most of them would probably be hot, too. But there had to be some that wouldn’t burn my fingers, and I only needed one.
To get it, of course, I would need to abandon the darkness and enter the clearing. Stride out past Judy. Search for my rock out in the open, directly in front of the tent.
Why not?
Judy’s head was down and the tent flaps were shut.
Besides, her mouth was gagged. Even if she saw me, she couldn’t cry out.
Also, I had the pistol. If things went sour, I could start shooting people.
Before going anywhere, I made sure the safety was off.
The gun shook like crazy in my hand. I was plenty scared. But this wasn’t the creepy sort of fear that gives you goosebumps. This was the kind that makes your heart pound like a club, makes you shake like a lunatic and sweat like a glass full of ice in a heat wave. It makes your legs feel so weak you think they’ve decided, on their own, to keep you from walking into trouble.
But I made mine walk.
There’s this thing about me. Maybe you’ve already noticed it. I’m the sort of gal who gets things done. I’ll do almost anything, no matter how dangerous or messy or awful it might be, if I figure it’s a thing that needs doing.
I wanted a rock, so I made myself go for it.
Staying about five feet away from Judy’s left side, I walked softly past her. She just stood there, arms high, head down. Except for her breathing, she didn’t seem to move at all.
When I was in front of her, I looked back. I’d expected a better view, but the flames had sunk very low. She was bathed in a murky glow that trembled with shadows as if I were looking at her under water.
I couldn’t even tell whether her eyes were shut.
But she didn’t act as if she saw me.
I kept walking.
I glanced at the tent, scanned the clearing ahead of me, checked over each shoulder, eyed the tent again, and several times twisted around for a brief look at Judy.
And wished I could see her better.
Darkness was good for sneaking around, and I should’ve been grateful for it. But I’d expected more firelight. I wanted to be able to see what I was doing—and see Judy.
So when I reached the fire, I crept around to the other side, crouched down by a small pile of wood, and started adding sticks to the shaky remains of the flames.
21
A HELL OF A GAL
Within a few seconds, the fire grew brighter. I added more sticks, and larger ones. They crackled and snapped, crawling with flames.
As I built up the fire, I kept watch on the front of the tent. It stayed shut. No light or sounds came from inside.
I added larger sticks and chunks of branches.
It seemed crazy, even to me. Had I lost my mind? Did I want to get caught?
Who knows?
I kept telling myself that nobody wakes up just because a fire outside the tent is getting larger.
But it was getting louder, too. A lot more snapping and crackling. And every so often, a burning stick would go off with a bam!
I refused to stop adding wood, though, until the fire was large and bright.
Bright enough for its light to spread over Judy.
When her skin gleamed like molten gold, I stood up. I started to step around the fire, then realized I’d forgotten to grab a rock.
Bending over, I patted a few of the rocks along the top of the fire circle. They all felt hot enough to scorch my fingers.
Neat play.
If I’d been taking care of business, I would’ve found one before building up the fire.
Too late, now.
But the far side of the wall wasn’t being lapped by flames, so I hurried over there. Sure enough, several of the rocks were only mildly warm.
After switching the pistol to my left hand, I used my right to pick up one I liked. It was shaped like a large wedge of pie, and must’ve weighed three or four pounds. Perfect.
On my way over to Judy, I turned around completely a couple of times. The clearing, now alive with firelight, looked deserted. Nobody seemed to be peering out at us from the woods. The tent was dark, its flaps still shut.
Judy’s head still hung down. She didn’t seem to know I was there.
I slipped the pistol into my pocket, held the rock behind my rump so she wouldn’t be able to see it, and walked up to her.
Where my shadow fell on Judy, her shine vanished. I stepped sideways enough to let the firelight reach her.
Her skin was so sweaty she looked as if she’d been rubbed with oil.
“Judy?” I whispered.
She didn’t stir.
I slid my left hand gently up her side. She was slick and smooth and hot.
“Judy?” I asked, a little louder.
She still didn’t respond. My hand was just below her armpit, so that’s where I patted her a few times.
“Judy. Wake up. It’s me.”
Nothing. So I gave her a good, solid smack in the same place. Her breasts lurched. With a gasp, she jerked her head up. She looked into my eyes.
“It’s okay,” I said. “I’m here to save you.”
Her eyes flicked from side to side, studying me. She moaned into her gag.
I glanced over my shoulder to make sure nobody was coming. Then I faced Judy again and went into my routine. “I thought you were dead,” I told her. “Somebody ambushed us and you went down. Do you remember?”
She shook her head slightly from side to side.
“I ran away. But you were gone when I came back. So I’ve been looking for you. I’ve been searching all over. I had no idea…Then I saw the firelight. Just hang on, I’ll get you out of here.”
She nodded, moaning again.
“I’ll take the gag off, but you’ve gotta be quiet.”
Keeping the rock out of sight, I reached up with my left hand and tried to work the bandana loose. It was too tight. So I stepped around behind her, set the rock down on the ground, and used both hands to work on the knot.
Why was I even bothering?
Why not just bash her head open and be done with it?
Maybe for the same reason I’d wasted time building up the fire. Whatever reason that might’ve been.
Just to delay things? To put off the moment when I would have to kill her?
Maybe.
How should I know? I’m not a shrink.
All I know is that I needed to take her gag off. After a minute or two, the knot came loose. I untied it and slipped the bandana out of her mouth. I stuffed it into my pocket, then picked up the rock and stepped around to her front.
She was taking deep breaths through her open mouth like someone who’d been held underwater way too long.
“Are you okay?” I whispered.
She nodded, and kept on taking huge breaths.
“Who did this to you?” I asked.
“Don’t…know.”
“You don’t know?”
“It’s all…dark. Blank.”
“Do you remember how you got here?”
Her head shook slightly.
“Or who beat you up?”
“No.”
“Or tied you like this?”
“Just…we were walking. You and me. Looking for Tony. And then…I don’t know. Somebody must’ve…brought me here.”
“But you don’t have any idea who?”
“Did Tony?” she asked.
“I don’t know,” I told her. “I never saw who did it, either. But somebody shot you and then must’ve carried you here. Maybe it was Tony. Do you think he would shoot you?”
“I don’t know. Yeah. Maybe. He was awfully…crazy about me.”
“Does he own a gun?”
“Yeah.
“Maybe it was Tony,” I said. “Do you think he’s in the tent over there?”