He paused for a moment, trembling, and then felt something large on his back.
Ajax.
Josh’s jacket bunched up around his shoulders and chest as the giant clenched a handful of material and lifted Josh into the air. Josh’s arms and legs untangled beneath him, and he kicked out but found only air.
Josh felt his head become wrapped in something, and he realized it was the huge man’s fist, his enormous fingers encircling it like a baseball.
He knew what came next. The twisting. The popping. The pulling. Josh clenched his teeth and made his neck stiff. When the wrenching began, he fought it with his whole body, refusing to let this happen.
His efforts weren’t enough. Ajax’s strength was inhuman, and slowly, inexorably, Josh’s head began to turn. He strained against it, so hard it felt like his temples would explode, straining even as his chin touched his shoulder and the hyperextension began. Josh couldn’t imagine a sound more terrifying than hearing his own spine cracking. He screamed in his throat. He shut his eyes, and tears squeezed out of their ducts.
“Ajax!” Sheriff Streng’s voice. “That pressure you feel in the back of your neck is a .45. Even someone as big as you wouldn’t be able to handle a few slugs in the vertebrae. Put him down, or I’ll fire.”
Ajax continued to hold Josh, but the twisting stopped.
“The only thing stopping me from killing you is that I have some questions I want to ask. Now stop fucking around and put down the firefighter!”
Ajax’s hands opened and Josh fell onto all fours. He took in a gulp of air, let it out as a brief cry of relief.
“Now get down on your knees, big boy. I’m getting a neck strain staring up at you.”
Ajax complied. Josh scrambled around behind him, next to Streng. It was difficult to make out in the dark, but Josh saw the sheriff raise a hand up, then bring it down hard against the side of Ajax’s head. Ajax flopped over.
“Shoot them,” Josh said, a sob still caught in his throat. “Shoot them both.”
“I lost the gun. All I’ve got is a rock and a tree branch, and I just dropped the rock.”
Josh considered their options. Their best chance would be to kill them while they were incapacitated. They could grope around in the dark for the gun. Or maybe find his knife. Josh didn’t know if he could stomach the actual killing, but he could leave that up to the sheriff.
“We need to run,” Streng said.
“But—”
“I know what you’re thinking. But what if one of them wakes up before we find a weapon? Then we’re both dead. These guys are too skilled, too strong.”
“Maybe Ajax has a gun or a knife on him.”
“You want to frisk him?”
“We have to try.”
Josh’s spirit was willing, but his feet did not want to go anywhere near Ajax. Santiago scared him in a bullying, sadistic way, but Josh considered him still human. Ajax was like a creature from a bad dream, a monstrous force of nature. He didn’t seem to be the same species, or even to belong on the same planet.
But the only way to stop being afraid was to kill him, and the only way to do that was to search him for weapons.
Josh quickly dismissed using his flashlight, as it might wake his tormentors up. He put his hands out before him and walked cautiously through the darkness, trying not to smack into any trees. His knees bumped into Ajax and he drew in a sharp breath. He reached down, amazed that he could touch his chest without bending over. This guy was freakishly huge. Time became measured in heartbeats, only a finite number remaining before the creature woke up.
Josh screwed up his courage and felt around for the giant’s belt. He found a Velcro pouch, ripped it open. It held a smooth metal container, and some kind of electronic gizmo, but no weapons. Josh pocketed the box and continued around the perimeter of his hips. A canteen. Josh took it, attached it to his own belt.
Ajax moved, shifting away. Josh stood absolutely still, fighting the impulse to flee. He needed to finish this up fast.
He patted down the rest of Ajax’s waistline but found nothing else. Josh wondered why Ajax didn’t have a gun and then realized that the man’s enormous fingers probably would be too big to squeeze a trigger. Then why not a knife, or some other weapon? Maybe in his vest.
Josh reached up, fingers exploring. The material was soft, pliable. It amazed Josh that it was actually bulletproof. He found an empty pocket, and then a zipper that was stuck. Ajax’s chest rose and fell beneath his hands, so huge that Josh felt like he was frisking a fallen horse.
“I found matches, and some capsules.” The sheriff’s voice startled Josh. He must have been searching Santiago. “You?”
“A container, some sort of electric thing, and water.”
Josh reached up higher, touched Ajax’s throat. Any thought of breaking the man’s spine while he slept vanished when Josh realized how large it was. It would be easier to snap a log in half.
“My knife should be in his ear,” Josh told Streng.
“Not there. Maybe he pulled it … umph.”
A gentle rustling sound. Then the forest went quiet.
“Sheriff?”
Streng didn’t answer. Josh strained to hear but heard only the steady rasp of Ajax’s breathing.
“Sheriff Streng? You okay?”
He felt foolish the instant it left his lips. Of course he wasn’t okay. Santiago must have woken up. Maybe Streng was already dead. Why hadn’t they run away like the sheriff suggested?
Ajax shifted, emitting a low growl. Josh jumped back. He considered taking off, finding County Road H, following that into town. Maybe he’d be able to flag down a car. Once he got to Safe Haven he could call the state cops. He faced the woods, his legs itching to bolt.
Not without the sheriff, he told himself.
Then he turned, clenched his fists, and headed toward Santiago.
• • •
Fran had never been so cold. Her whole body—not just her bound hands—felt numb, and her teeth chattered. But when she saw the large uniformed figure standing on the dark road, Fran turned and started down the embankment, back into the river.
“Hey! You okay?”
Fran didn’t stop. The voice didn’t belong to Taylor, but she didn’t trust anyone walking alone at night. She tried to keep her balance, to plant her feet firmly after every step, but the slope was steep and she was still dripping. Her damp heel slid on a patch of weeds and she fell onto her back. Before she could move again a flashlight beam hit her face, prompting a wince.
“Fran? Is that you?”
Fran squinted into the light, couldn’t make out anyone behind it. But the voice didn’t seem threatening, and it was oddly familiar.
She managed to swallow the lump in her throat and said, “Who’s there?”
“Erwin Luggs. You work with my fiancée, Jessie Lee, at Merv’s Diner. I also teach Duncan.”
Erwin. He was one of Safe Haven’s firemen, and he taught gym at the junior high. Her son liked him. Jessie Lee complained about him all the time, to the point where Fran wondered why she had agreed to marry him.
Before Fran answered, Erwin had his big hands on her arm and helped her up.
“Jesus, Fran, what happened?”
Fran’s eyes widened in fear when she realized Erwin was covered in blood. Erwin seemed to read her reaction.
“It’s from a deer,” he said.
Fran recovered from the shock. “My hands. Do you have a knife or something that cuts?”
“I’ve got some fingernail clippers.”