“Go easy on him,” Fargo said. “Noah plans to kill him, too.”
“You’re old Noah’s brother?” Stephanie said.
“That’s right. And I’ve been a burden to him most of his life. Tonight he’s going to pay me back.”
The women went over and sat on their respective bunks. They moved as swiftly as the leg irons would permit.
“You do a good job with those irons,” Fargo said.
“Well, after all the time we’ve spent in them,” Nancy said, “we’re used to them.”
“This place is damned clean,” Fargo said, mincing around in his irons. “Can’t believe they’d spend so much time on it.”
“Believe it or not, old Noah sees that we’re fed well, exercised well, and live in pretty nice surrounds.” Stephanie reached under her pillow and pulled out the makings. “He wants us to be in good condition when he decides to stalk us through the woods and kill us. More sporting for him that way.” She nodded to the tobacco and papers she had. “Anybody want a smoke?”
Both men said yes.
They sat on the cot nearest the ladies.
“You make a mean smoke,” Fargo said. Nancy had tucked it in his mouth and lit it for him. The rest he had to do on his own, giving himself a quick lesson in how to smoke while manipulating a pair of tight handcuffs.
“So you know this island pretty well?” Fargo asked.
“Not as well as old Noah and Burgade do,” Nancy said.
“Anybody ever survived their hunt?”
“Us. But that’s because old Noah decided to keep us around for a while.”
“He’s a damned good hunter,” Aaron said, watching his own cigarette being rolled. “I have to give him that.”
“And nobody’s ever figured out how to slip past the dogs?” Fargo said.
“They aren’t dogs,” Nancy said. “They’re devils from hell. I know that sounds dramatic but I half suspect it’s true. They’re a lot craftier than most of the people I know.”
“I’d rather be killed by old Noah than by those dogs,” Stephanie said.
Nancy said, “We saw a man get ripped apart by them one day. By the time they finished with him, he looked like a side of beef. There wasn’t enough of him left together to even tell he was human.” She shuddered at the memory.
“They ever threaten to turn on Burgade?” Fargo said.
The ladies thought it over.
“Once, the one named Hellion turned and snapped at him,” Nancy said. “Burgade cracked him with the whip across the back. Put a real deep wound in him. That’s the closest I’ve ever seen the dogs getting after Burgade.”
“Noah trained those dogs himself,” Aaron said. “I couldn’t stand to see or hear the way he raised them. He beat them ’til they bled. They were dangerous even when they were puppies, the way he treated them. By now they’ve got to be crazed. Burgade can’t be any better for them than Noah was.”
When Aaron got his cigarette, he lay on the fourth cot.
Fargo laid down, too. “We had a long night, ladies. What we need is a little sleep.”
Stephanie laughed. “I can think of a couple of things I need, Mr. Fargo.” She stared unabashedly at his crotch. Even as exhausted as he was, close proximity to these two made it impossible for his manhood to rest. It bulked up the tight area of his pants.
Nancy was no different. “I was noticing the same thing you were, Sis.”
“God, ladies, I really do need a rest.”
Aaron rumbled. “I need sleep. How about some silence?”
He rolled over, his back to the three of them.
Both gals stuck their tongues out at him and then grinned at Fargo.
Nancy winked at Fargo. He wasn’t sure why but in the next few minutes he learned that Nancy knew her sister very well. Both Stephanie and Aaron fell asleep.
Nancy put a shhh-ing finger to her lips and then tiptoed over to him, making as little noise as she could given the situation.
“We’ll have to be very quiet,” she whispered in his ear.
She began by leading on tiptoes to the east corner of the cabin where he managed to work her jeans down to the middle of her thighs. She faced away from him and was able to spread her legs just enough that Fargo could ease his large and eager rod into the moist and magnificent opening to her womanhood.
He had never before trysted with so many restrictions on him. He couldn’t move too quickly or their shackles would make noise. He couldn’t speak or moan. And she had all the same restrictions.
But he found it very satisfying. He reached up under her blouse and cupped his hand over one of her breasts, both of them surging when contact was made. And the excitement of this moment helped them find the right pace that both of them could share and enjoy.
He quietly worked himself far up inside her, her round buttocks working against his body, only enhancing his desire. She was able to turn her face so that his tongue could slide into her mouth. The increasing urgency pushed even him further up inside her and her muscles there contracted, driving him to the brink of sanity.
They pressed together so tight that when release came he fell against her and continued grinding into her. She didn’t want to stop and he didn’t, either.
Finally they slid to the floor and lay on their backs, a sweaty pile of purely pleased humanity.
Fargo was awakened by the violent barking of the dogs. They’d been barking on and off, but from some distance, so he’d been able to pack in three hours of sleep. But this barking was right outside the door of the cabin. He jerked up from deep sleep, momentarily disoriented.
The sisters and Aaron Tillman were just waking up, too.
“I wish I had a gun,” Aaron said grumpily, rubbing sleep from his face. “Right now I’d kill those dogs even before I killed Burgade.”
“I don’t think you could kill those dogs,” Nancy yawned. “Even if you had two guns. I’m not sure anything could kill them.”
Stephanie laughed. “Except maybe Burgade’s breath.”
“Now there’s a weapon I hadn’t thought of,” Nancy said.
Fargo admired the dialogue. Most prisoners would have long ago—and understandably—sunk into depression and silence. You could only live like this so long before captivity broke you physically and spiritually. But the sisters’ bright chatter spoke of their bravery and determination to survive this experience.
Burgade came in. “Aaron and Stephanie. You’re going out first. Walk over here now.”
“Maybe it’d be easier if you’d just shoot us right here and get it over with,” Aaron said.
“That’d be fine with me. But your brother wouldn’t get his fun if I did that. And one way or another, we all need to keep your brother happy. Now shut your stupid mouth and get your ass over here.”
Fargo watched as the shackled couple made their way to Burgade who stood frowning and impatient, his rifle cradled in his arms as if it were his infant.
When they reached him, Burgade handed Stephanie a key and said, “Take the shackles and cuffs off both of you and then give me the key back.”
“You’re not afraid we might jump you?” Aaron smiled.
“First of all, you haven’t got the guts. Second of all, this rifle would cut you in half at this range. And third of all, even if you got past me, the dogs are right outside.” And right on cue, the dogs started barking again, sounding both vicious and hungry.
Stephanie unlocked the shackles and the cuffs and handed the key to Burgade, who then went to the door and whispered three words in Indian dialect that silenced the dogs instantly. Fargo was impressed. The sonofabitch not only spoke so low it was just about impossible to hear him; he also spoke in what sounded like an Indian tongue Fargo had never heard before.