“Behave yourself,” Redjacket warned as he walked back in front of them all, rubbing his fist like it was sore.
“I’ve met Iraqi women who hit harder than you,” Ty told him, his voice rough and hoarse. But he had to cough and gasp as he said it. Zane closed his eyes and smiled slightly.
“Want some more, then, smartass?” Earflaps threatened.
“Give it a rest. I need to think on what we’re doing next,” Redjacket said crossly.
“I say we just kill ’em,” Swizzlestick offered.
“We don’t want every cop in the state crawling over this mountain looking for them,” Redjacket responded.
“So what’re you thinkin’? We don’t kill ’em; they tell the Feds we’re here. We kill ’em; the Feds come here when they don’t check in. What’s the difference? At least if they’re dead, they ain’t talkin’,” Earflaps said as he stood over Deuce with his shotgun.
Zane cast his eyes around. No matter how much he pushed his eyes to one side, he still couldn’t see Ty without raising his head. He could hear him, though, still breathing heavily from the punches to the gut they’d dealt him, no matter how hard he tried to play them off as if he wasn’t hurt. Deuce was kneeling next to Earl in the dirt; tied up and considered less of a threat; the men were paying them little attention. Zane figured they were underestimating both of them. Earl was no fragile old man, and Deuce would put up a damn good fight if he had to—he was a Grady, after all. And if they were anything like Ty, those ropes wouldn’t stop them when it got right down to it. They all seemed to be built of the same stone as these mountains.
Zane gave vent to some of his frustration and spat blood from where he’d bitten the inside of his cheek onto the dirt at the hunter’s feet, using the opportunity to push himself up some. He saw Earflaps sniff and re-grip the shotgun in his hands. He still had Ty’s gun in his belt, and Zane eyed it as he lay there.
“Well,” Redjacket said thoughtfully after a long time of thinking it over. “I’m thinkin’ they should just… disappear-like. Then they can’t tell nobody nothing,” he decided with a jerk of his head to the east.
Zane swallowed hard. Though it was four on three, these treasure-hunting bastards were armed with both their own shotguns and now Ty’s and Zane’s weapons as well. He and Ty were both hurt, although not incapable of putting up a fight. Zane and the others might have possessed the more experienced and capable fighting force, but they were seriously outgunned. You didn’t bring fists to a gunfight.
“We could dump ’em down that old well we found yonder,” Swizzlestick suggested as he held his shotgun on his hip.
“So now, Mister,” Redjacket said, moving to stand in front of Ty as he spoke. Zane shifted slightly on his side, just enough to finally be able to see Ty where he lay in the dirt. “Let’s talk,” Redjacket said to Ty as he knelt near him. “How about you just behave yourself while you and hero over there take a little walk with us. No more tricks, and we’ll leave those two alone.” He waved his hand at Earl and Deuce.
Ty glared at the man, holding his ribs as he pushed himself up from the dirt and rocked a little. “You plan to let them go?” he asked finally in a rough voice. “They’ll wander around lost for a few days, won’t be able to lead anybody back to you.”
Zane saw Earl frown and could tell he was barely resisting the urge to protest. Instead, he watched Redjacket, the de facto leader of this little trio of ass**les.
Redjacket looked thoughtful as he considered Ty’s request. “Could be, but they’d still know y’all were up here,” he pointed out finally, nodding his head toward Zane. “They’d still send out search parties for you two,” he said as he waved the badge he’d taken from Ty’s pocket earlier.
Ty grunted in obvious annoyance. “Then how are you going to leave them alone?” he countered, possibly unable to help himself, considering the stress in his voice. “Lots of people know we’re out here already.”
Redjacket narrowed his eyes, looking at Ty as if he thought there might be some sort of mind-trick going on.
“If you want your prisoners to behave until you kill them, you don’t tell them you’re going to kill them!” Ty informed Redjacket irritably. He was very nearly shouting.
Zane narrowed his eyes, attempting to evaluate his partner as calmly as possible as his entire body trembled with adrenaline and fear. Ty was still slumped on his knees in the dirt and dried leaves of the little clearing, wincing and holding his side. Zane wondered if he had a broken rib or two or if he was just playing it up to look weaker. Hurt or not, he was definitely losing his grip on his sanity. Or doing a really good job of pretending he was. Ty continued to glare up at the man kneeling near him, his eyes flashing and his jaw clenching angrily.
“We won’t be killin’ you if we dump you in the well, now will we?” Redjacket argued.
“Holes don’t kill people. People kill people,” Ty pointed out mockingly.
Zane actually chuckled under his breath as he pushed himself halfway up. It was such a ridiculous conversation. Most captives didn’t give their captors advice on how to go about doing things or argue with them over how to dispose of bodies, and this Redjacket character was growing more and more wary, beginning to look at Ty as if he might just be insane. Crazy captives were hard to deal with. And Zane quite honestly wondered if the man wasn’t right.
“I’m thinkin’ real hard on killin’ this one anyway,” Earflaps muttered as he kneed Zane in the back, nearly knocking him over again. Zane had to catch himself, palms down in the dirt, and he gave Earflaps an ugly look over his shoulder.
“Ain’t nobody killing anybody yet,” Redjacket declared as he held up his hands to calm them. He pulled off his glasses and rubbed at his eyes. “We don’t wanna have to drag a body anywhere. Best thing to do is march ’em up there, and do it there.”
Ty slammed both hands onto the ground suddenly, rustling the dried leaves and making an unsatisfactory thud. “I am sick and f**king tired of being threatened by amateurs!” he shouted in utter frustration. He pushed himself up to stand suddenly, turning on Swizzlestick and the shotgun, and he pointed a finger at the cruel-looking man. “If you’re gonna shoot me, shoot me, but I’ll be goddamned if you’re gonna throw me in a hole and leave me!”