“Rat sure fits him.” Hickok indicated Rat. “But I can’t imagine anyone wanting to call himself Maggot.”
“You’ll understand, soon enough,” Bear said slowly. “What’s your name, anyhow?”
“Hickok.” He extended his right hand.
Bear stared at the hand for a few awkward seconds, evidently surprised it had been offered. Finally, he shook with a firm, strong grip.
“Pleased to meet you, Bear,” Hickok said. “Any chance of me getting some food? I could eat a… bear.” He grinned.
So did the black. “We’ll get you something.”
“But Maggot said we was to take him as soon as he woke up,” whined Rat in protest.
“Some food won’t hurt,” Bear stated harshly. “Go get some.”
“Why me?”
Bear pivoted, fixing his eyes on Rat. “Because I told you to, that’s why.”
Rat reached for the door handle.
“And keep your mouth shut,” Bear warned.
Rat left.
“I take it you guys are Porns?” Hickok said.
Bear nodded. “You know an awful lot about the Twins. Where are you from, Hickok?”
“Sorry, Bear, but I think I best keep that information to myself.”
Bear shrugged. “Where’d you learn so much about the Twins, about the Horns and Porns and such?”
“From a friend.”
“This friend have a name?”
“Guess it can’t hurt.” Hickok reflected a moment. “You might even know her. She mentioned she was once a Porn. Her name is Bertha.”
Bear’s mouth dropped at the sound of her name. He crouched next to the cot, studying Hickok’s face. “Bertha?”
“Yeah. You know her then?”
Bear nodded. “We were friends,” he said ruefully, “before she went over to the Nomads.”
“Why’d she switch?”
Bear frowned. “Didn’t she tell you? She went over because of Maggot.”
“Maggot?”
“Yeah. He thinks he can have any woman he wants, any time he wants.
He wanted Bertha, and she told him to go screw himself.”
“Sounds like our girl.”
“Yeah.” Bear smiled. “She’s a scrapper! But Maggot didn’t take to the idea of being told no. He had her tortured.”
“Tortured? How?”
Bear averted his eyes, the memory filling him with a sense of shame.
“Maggot had her arms tied over her head, and she was dangled in the pit.
He thought it would break her.”
“What’s the pit?”
Bear shuddered. “Maggot’s special place for those he don’t like. The pit connects to tunnels, and when someone is thrown in the pit, the rats pour out of the tunnels and eat the poor son of a bitch alive!” Bear paused, wiping his brow with his hand.
“He did that to her?”
Bear swallowed. “Yeah, but instead of throwin’ her in. Maggot put a beam across the top of the pit and hung her from it so she was just out of the rat’s reach. Some of the bigger rats, though, could get her legs if they jumped real hard. Maggot kept her there for three days, until she got away somehow. The next we heard, she’d joined the Nomads.”
“How’d she get away?”
“Don’t rightly know,” Bear responded. “Maggot thinks someone helped her escape.”
“Who would do that?” Hickok asked, smiling.
Bear didn’t notice the smile. “Beats me. If Maggot ever finds out who it is, they’re dead.”
“Thanks for telling me,” Hickok said. “It sure explains a couple of things about Bertha.”
“You say you’re friends?”
“Yep.”
“Where is she now?”
“I wish I knew.” Hickok said sadly. “The last I knew, she was with me, fighting the Wacks. I don’t know where she is now.”
Bear glanced at the closed door, then at Hickok., “Listen, bro, and listen good! Your life ain’t worth dirt here. Maggot is goin’ to kill you. It’s only a matter of when. Don’t let him convince you otherwise. He will kill you!”
“Real hospitable to strangers in these parts,” Hickok muttered. “Are all the Porns so ruthless?”
“No. There’s a lot who don’t like the way things is done.”
“Then why don’t they do something about it?” Hickok asked.
“Lake what?”
“Like kill Maggot and take over?”
Bear’s eyes widened fearfully. “Shut your mouth, honky! You got to keep thoughts like that to yourself!”
“Why don’t they?” Hickok insisted.
Bear checked the door again. “Because Maggot’s men got all the guns, and no one is allowed to get close to Maggot with a weapon. Even if Maggot were killed, there’s no tellin’ who would take over the Porns. Might be someone worse.”
Hickok was digesting that bit of information when the door opened and Rat entered, bearing a tray of food.
Bear quickly stood.
“I got the food,” Rat announced. “And I ran into someone at the food pots. He wanted to come back with me.”
Hickok didn’t like the way Rat’s eyes were gleaming.
“Who?” Bear asked.
“Me,” said a growling voice, and another man filled the doorway, a huge, obese mass of a man, bald on top, wearing baggy pants and a shirt sewn together from numerous other garments. Sweat covered his face, beads of moisture dripping from his thick double chin. He was carrying the Henry, and the two Pythons were tucked into his waistband.
Bear backed away several steps. “Maggot!”
“You were expecting Reverend Paul?” Maggot rumbled.
Rat laughed, reaching the cot and handing the tray to an aching Hickok. The meal consisted of soup and a glass of water.
Maggot lumbered up to the cot. Behind him, four other men, armed to the teeth, came into the room.
Maggot’s bodyguard, Hickok reflected. He took a sip of the tepid water, feigning indifference to
Maggot’s presence.
“You know who I am?” Maggot demanded.
Hickok slowly looked up at the pumpkin head glaring down at him.
“From here, you look like a giant mound of horse shit. Paler, of course.”
Everyone in the room glanced at Maggot, their faces terrified.
Maggot took the insult in stride. “You’re a real smart ass, aren’t you?”
“Proper grammar for once,” Hickok cracked. “Hardly expected to find you were the literate type.”
“My parents taught me to read and write,” Maggot said, smiling, “just before I strangled them to death.”
Hickok grinned at Maggot’s feeble attempts at intimidation. “Too bad it wasn’t the other way around.” He picked up a spoon and tasted the watery soup. Yuck.
“A real smart ass,” Maggot repeated. “I hear your name is Hickok.”
Hickok glanced at Rat, who was grinning from ear to ear. “You got it correctly.”
“Where you from?”
“I’d rather not say.”
“Oh?” Maggot’s fingers tightened on the Henry. “What if I insist?”
“You know what they say,” Hickok said, trying another swallow of soup.
It was better than nothing.
“No. What do they say?” Maggot asked, enjoying their game of cat and mouse.
“Insisting is a lot like playing with yourself.”
“How so?”
Hickok grinned. “Neither do you any good unless you’re sure you can get satisfaction out of them.”
Maggot chuckled, his rolls of fat bouncing. “You’ve got a keen sense of humor, Hickok.”
“Thanks.”
“But a deplorable grasp on reality.”
“Oh?” Hickok gulped the soup directly from the bowl. It was amazing how docile starvation could render your taste buds!
“Yes.” Maggot began to pace. “You see, I’m accustomed to getting what I want, when I want it. I can make your life very pleasant, or I can make it very painful. The choice is yours, based on your degree of cooperation with me.”