Will did as he was asked. His stride was much longer and in no time he was ahead of Mr. Frosty who puffed hard from exertion in the boiling desert heat.
“Slow down, goddamn you!”
Will stopped in his tracks but didn’t turn around. His body slumped forward like a man being marched to the gallows.
Short on air, Mr. Frosty smiled painfully as he slowed his pace. His mind was now a whirl of delicious thoughts. Things were beginning to look up, ever since he’d escaped from the psycho’s garage half frozen but still alive. It didn’t take long to find the SUV. The woman talking on her cell phone hadn’t even seen him coming. Boy was she surprised to see a fist heading for her stupid face…
“So what do you think of yourself now, hot shot?”
Mr. Frosty ignored how his voice sounded shrill and wobbly, prepubescent. He didn’t even care what the bastard thought. Mr. Frosty was determined to love every minute of this. Killing this prick was going to be the most satisfying thing he’d done in years.
Will’s pace got him ahead of the little man again. He turned his head to see if Mr. Frosty was catching up. His eyes seemed to catch something behind his executioner, but he quickly looked back to the dark doorway of the barn.
Does he really think I’m going to fall for it? Talk about desperate. I’m not turning around. Not so he can jump me.
Mr. Frosty poked Will in the back with the muzzle of his gun and caused him to grunt.
“You like that?” Mr. Frosty asked. “Just wait until that fucking head of yours is swimming with lead.”
This time it came out deeper, like the voice of a man who’d already done this many times. Mr. Frosty had found his groove.
While he’d been locked in Will’s freezer in complete darkness, Mr. Frosty had sworn he’d do anything necessary to have his revenge. He knew he couldn’t ask god for help, so he’d spoken to the dark thing he’d met back when he was spending time in solitary. Four long years inside a concrete box losing his mind. All for assaulting a prison guard with the severed head of rat whose teeth dripped with rabies.
He hadn’t made a deal for a long time with the dark thing but it had appeared to him inside the freezer without much coaxing. Then it became anxious, like most dealers are when they want to get down to doing business.
Mr. Frosty was going to have his revenge. He’d stare into the Will’s eyes while he cut him down. The dark thing would be there too. It told him it looked forward to the show.
He stopped near the entrance to the barn as Will began to walk inside.
“That’s far enough dead man… Now turn around.”
Will obeyed, but his face was much too calm for Mr. Frosty’s liking.
Where was the fear?
This wasn’t going quite the way he’d imagined. He’d wanted to see the man begin pleading for his life. He’d assumed Will understood his time on earth was nearing the end. But more than killing him, he needed to see him suffer.
Shoot him in the kneecap, boss. That’ll get him blubbering for you.
Good idea…
When Mr. Frosty took careful aim and was about to squeeze the trigger, a blast of hot white light shot out from behind his eyes. He saw some black raggedy object shoot past his head and plop on the ground several feet in front of him.
Stupid fucking crow…
He’d always hated birds. They woke him up before sunrise and shit on his car. The crows always sounded as if they were mocking him.
He staggered toward it, wondering how in hell a bird could have been so dumb as to slam against the back of his head and kill itself.
Except as he got closer he realized it wasn’t a bird at all.
It was his bloody scalp…
Mr. Frosty touched the top of his head and felt warm slick sponge beneath his fingertips. He fell to the ground and rolled over to his side. His face was turned toward Will in surprise. An opened eye gazed sightlessly into the sun.
After several twitches he didn’t move again. And yet the dark thing he’d made a bargain with raged inside him, frantically searched for a means of escaping from its outsmarted host.
Peggy stepped forward cautiously, keeping Wilbur’s revolver aimed at the dead man’s chest. She reached down and pried the gun from Mr. Frosty’s hand. To the thing inside him, she was like a ray of sun breaking momentarily through a bank of winter fog, and it savored her warmth during the brief contact. Later it would find itself being tormented by flies coming to lay eggs in the dead man’s body.
Will moved into the light and she handed the gun to him.
“We don’t have a lot of time,” she said.
“I know.”
****
Will held Peggy tightly in his arms and tried his best to comfort her. She cried heavily, to the point where he felt her warm tears soaking through his shirt. Robert had been so close, only to be torn away by the same man who’d arranged the kidnapping of her and her son in the middle of the night. Will placed a hand against either side of her head and gently lifted it up so she could see his face.
“Don’t worry. I’m going to get him back.”
Peggy nodded and placed her hands upon his. Will examined her face, noticing the bruises around her jaw and neck for the first time.
“Holy shit. Did Marsh do that to you?”
“Mostly. Wilbur landed one to my jaw, when he thought it would be a good idea to turn me over to Marsh.”
“Well he’s just lucky now to be alive.”
Will removed his hands. He turned and peeked into the house where he saw Betty cleaning the mess from Wilbur’s face with a washcloth. They’d found him behind the barn suffocating on his own blood. Jan stayed on the couch with the children on either side of her. They were quietly petting Nugget.
“How’s Connor holding up?”
“Not too bad, considering. He’s got his dog back. Now he just needs his dad.”
“So what do you know about Marsh, other than the fact he’s been leading a group of psychopaths?”
“It’s some kind of cult. They’ve had plans for Robert for a long time. I think they’re going to kill him.”
“How many guys have you seen working for Marsh?”
“I don’t know. There has to be a least four or five of them. They’d take off in the evening and wouldn’t be back until almost dawn. Except last night they never came back.”
“And they won’t be either.” Will said.
“What happened?”
Will stared down at the porch. “Robert was supposed to fight a man down at some railroad tracks. When the two met they managed to talk sense into one another and not go through with it. They came up with a plan of their own. The overseers got really mad and started shooting. They killed the other guy and then tried to kill us. We had to protect ourselves.”
Peggy’s face darkened. “Who was this other guy, the one that got killed?”
Will realized what Peggy was thinking, and he moved her away from the window so Jan and the others couldn’t see them.
“It was Robert’s great cousin. Steven Westlake.”
“God… That’s Jan’s husband.”
“Should we tell her?”
“Not now. I don’t think she could take it.”
Will nodded. He hugged Peggy once more. “If I’m going to try and save Robert I better get moving.”
“You’re not doing this alone Will. We’re going with you.”
“Bullshit you are. I’m not going to let you get killed too.”
Peggy grabbed his collar and pulled his face closer. Her eyes so full of cold rage it sucked the breath out of him.
“Yes we are…”
****
Marsh hummed along with an old Johnny Cash song while the bundle of dynamite shifted on the seat between them. Robert concentrated on driving and tried not to think about it. He’d bitten his lip until he’d tasted blood.