Bending his knees, Gary tried to escape.
Trent let him go. “As you may have figured out, there’s been a change in plans.”
The fat chick opened her mouth.
Trent jerked his head toward her.
Gary pounced, ramming his knee into her crotch while scraping the knife over her throat.
“Once we stop for lunch, you’ll be assigned your new duties. Until then, sit down and shut up.”
Gary licked the woman’s cheek. Spittle glistened in the low light.
The man’s poor taste was just another reason he had to be chlorinated from the gene pool. “Any disagreement can be taken up with my friend’s knife.”
Slipping the blade under the woman’s blouse, his minion sliced through her bra and shirt. The fabric fluttered down, exposing a mound of wobbly skin.
Vomit burned Trent’s mouth. How could the bitch stand looking at herself with that much flab? “Gary, please. I wish to eat lunch in a few hours. Wait until we stop.”
Gary trailed the tip of his knife down her chest. Red beaded through the cut. “You promise?”
“Of course.” Who else would want her? Trent returned to his seat. “Now keep them quiet. One cut for crying. Two for moaning. Three for disobedience.”
Gary prowled the aisle, looking for his next target.
No one made a sound.
Good, he needed the silence to plan. He had a new world to build. Since he would rule it, nothing less than perfection would do.
Chapter Thirty-Three
David leaned against the Humvee’s door. His fingers trailed over Mavis’s before slipping his fingers through her gloved ones.
“Five minutes.” Lieutenant Sally Rogers kept the time better than Big Ben.
Damn her. Mavis didn’t need reminding that the hour was almost up.
She tugged her fingers free then bit the gloved tip and stripped her hand bare. After stuffing the glove into her pocket, she tucked her hand inside his.
David ignored the Marines walking in circles around their vehicle and the four personnel carriers. The residents who had attacked them when they’d entered Strawberry had disappeared shortly after he and Mavis had returned from speaking with Brother Bob.
Glancing down the road, he watched snow dust the blacktop in powdery lace. “They’re fools for not coming.”
Rogers kicked at the snow then stomped toward her fellow Marines near the John Deere tractor blocking the road. “They’ll be dead soon. What a waste of life.”
Without a word, Mavis leaned against him and buried her face in his jacket.
He wrapped his free hand around her shoulders, pulling her close. Her shivers transmitted across his legs. “Maybe you should wait in the vehicle. I can turn the heater on.”
She shook her head but didn’t look up. “We can’t afford to waste the gas.”
Her words were warm puffs through his jacket.
“We can’t afford for you to get sick.” He freed his hand. Shuffling her a little to the side, he unzipped the thing and wrapped it around her.
She sighed and melted against him. Her cold palms flattened against his back. “This is much better than sitting in the car alone.”
“Sergeant-Major?” Robertson whispered.
David pressed his finger against the device in his ear while checking his watch. What the fuck? The private wasn’t due to check in for another fifteen minutes. “Robertson is Sunnie alright?”
Mavis stiffened in his arms but didn’t pull away.
David rubbed her back. Please don’t let it be Sunnie.
“She’s recovering.” Robertson’s voice hitched and he sniffed.
Fuck no! He’d warned his men about Trent and the others when they’d checked in at seven. But two soldiers had been beyond his reach. Two would be ignorant of the danger. “Singleton and Janovich.”
“We found ‘em, Sergeant-Major.” A dog barked in the background.
Found them? What the hell was that supposed to mean? “Where?”
“God damn-fucking-piece-of-shit-ass-licking-bitches left them on the side of the road.”
Five swear words. Robertson was beginning to get hot under the collar. David cleared his throat. “Status?”
“Singleton’s head was nearly caved in. Medic Johnson doesn’t know if he’ll make it.” Robertson inhaled a shaky breath.
The private must be losing his touch if he used a measly five swear words for that? David would have gone for thirteen.
Mavis tightened her arms around David’s waist. “Trent?”
“Yeah.” He tucked her head under his chin. They’d get through this. Together. “How’s Janovich?”
“Asshole always did have a hard head.” Robertson’s laughter was a pitch higher than normal. “Johnson says he’s concussed and needs to rest.”
One on the mend and the other on the hopeful list. The bastards would pay. “And the God-damn-fucking-piece-of-shit-ass-licking-bitches that did it?”
“Forty minutes ahead if we go by the time difference on Janovich’s watch.” Robertson’s voice faded. “They’ll be running flat out once they hit the highway. Unless they stop to take a dump, we’ll catch ‘em in Flagstaff. The roads are blocked pretty good there.”
David inhaled the scent of Mavis’s fruity shampoo. No new survivors, two men down and an asshole in charge of innocent civilians. When would he get some good news? Hell, maybe it came this morning when Lister made it a capital offense to undermine the military. “Take ‘em out, Robertson.”
“No.” Mavis tugged on his arm. “If at all possible I need Trent Powers alive and relatively unharmed.”
Hell no! The bastard deserved to die. David shook his head. No way would he counterman his order.
Robertson hummed softly. “You wanna repeat that, Big D?”
She fisted his shirt, plucking out David’s chest hair in the process. “Trent Powers is a symbol. As much as I would love to stomp on the scumbag’s corpse, killing him would undermine the military’s authority by creating a rift between the civilians and us.”
Fuck the military and the civilians. These were his men. He grasped her arms and pulled her up on her toes until she wobbled at eye-level. “Would you give the same order if they’d bashed in Sunnie’s head then dumped her on the side of road like garbage?”
Pain flared in her brown eyes but she didn’t flinch. “I wouldn’t like it. Hell, I would hate it. Would you risk everyone’s life for revenge? Not just your men, and Manny’s and Wheelchair Henry’s but Lister’s and all the Marines, National Guardsmen and… everyone.”
“Those are my men!”
“And I swear that you will get your revenge. I will serve it to you with a parsley garnish on a silver platter, but it must be cold.” She released his shirt to stroke his chest. “Trent Powers must be exposed to everyone or else we can’t take him out.”
Rage hammered against the cage of his ribs despite her petting. “I want him dead.”
She nodded and bit her lip.
Why couldn’t she argue? He could find a flaw in her reasoning and do what he wanted. Fuck. “Take Powers alive if possible.”
“Thank you.” Mavis kissed him on the lips. It ended before he could reciprocate. She snuggled against his chest. “Of course, if he looks like he’s going to run, I’d blow off his kneecaps. He won’t actually be standing at his trial.”
Well, now that was a nice temporary compromise. “Did you copy that, Robertson?”
“Copy that, Sergeant-Major. Johnson will make sure he doesn’t bleed out. We’ll meet you in Winslow.”
“Ma’am! Sergeant-Major!” Lieutenant Rogers sprinted around the tractor. “They’re singing!”
Mavis pulled out of his arms and straightened her clothes. “Singing?”
“Church music.” Rogers bounced on the balls of her feet. “You did it, Ma’am. They’re coming.”