Lizzy and I ran. I don’t remember how far we ran or how long. It seemed like it wasn’t very long at all before we saw the top half of an older man raise up from the ground and wave at us. He was wearing a blue chino work shirt; the kind my father used to wear.
“C’mon, Little Sis!” he said, waving his hands at us in a “let’s go!” motion. “C’mere and belly down on the ground here!”
He got back down on his stomach, and I saw him put his cheek down on the black stock of a bolt action rifle. He looked through a scope and adjusted his grip on the weapon as Lizzy and I laid down beside him and looked back at the motorhomes, now far away. I couldn’t see anything outside. The form of Richard was just barely visible on the top of the camper. His chair stood empty and undisturbed.
“Are either of you hurt?” the man asked.
“No, we’re okay. A little shaky,” I said.
“Good. That’s good. My name’s Billy,” he said and offered me some binoculars. Slightly surprised, I took them and said, “Amanda.”
“Pleasure. How about the little girl?”
“You go anywhere near her, and I’ll fucking kill you, do you understand?”
He pulled his face off the rifle to look at me. “God damn,” he said in dismay. “We were afraid you might have had it rough. I’m sorry, Amanda. And don’t worry. Nobody’s going near your girl.”
He took his right hand off the trigger long enough to reach around behind himself. When his hand came back, it held a small revolver. He handed this to me as well, grip first.
“Here,” he said. “You just hold onto that for me, okay?”
I reached out slowly and took it, afraid I was being tricked in some way that I couldn’t imagine. My hand closed around the grip. His didn’t let go.
“Do me a favor, Little Sis. Don’t shoot me.”
He let go and put his face back to the rifle.
I fumbled with the revolver, trying to figure out how to open it. “Push the tab on the left side forward,” he offered. “Drops the cylinder right out.”
I did as he suggested and saw six rounds. They all said, “.38 SPL” on the back of the cartridge.
“Anyone gets too close to you or the girl, you unload that thing in their face,” Billy said.
I put the pistol in front of me and lifted the binoculars to look at the motorhomes. Richard suddenly jumped into focus. He was sprawled out on top with his feet toward us. I looked all about the rest of the site and saw no one. There was no sign of the other man.
“Where is he?” I asked, not bothering to clarify who I meant.
“Jake,” Billy said. “He’s inside one of those RV’s. He’ll be waiting for the rest to come back.”
Something occurred to me suddenly. “He knew there were four men?”
“Yap. We been watching you all a couple of days. Wasn’t sure what to make of it. We knew that one of the men was a bit of an asshole, but we had kind of a hard time figuring out if they were abrasive, dangerous, or just evil. We knew you were there with ’em; didn’t know about your little girl.”
He was quiet for a moment.
“I… uh, well I wanted to move on,” he said apologetically. “Jake insisted on finding out for sure.”
“Finding what out for sure?”
“Erm… finding out if everyone actually wanted to be there,” he answered. He seemed to become uncomfortable at this simple statement.
“Oh. Here they come,” he said as he looked through the scope again. He sounded relieved.
“Are you going to shoot them?” Lizzy asked?
“Should I shoot them?” Billy replied.
“Yes,” I confirmed. “Shoot the large one several times.”
“Okay, if I can get a clear shot and a definite kill, I’ll do it. I’m terrible at hitting moving targets, though, so they’ll have to…”
Out in the distance, Dwight and James ran full-tilt at the campers, yelling out for Richard and Hugo as they came. Without slowing down, they yanked the door of the rear RV open and piled in. The sound of gunfire followed immediately after, sounding small and muffled in the distance.
“D’ah, shit…” Billy groaned and was up running before I knew what was happening. He could move pretty fast for his size, even in those cowboy boots he always wore. Even so, he was very big, and I judged I could catch up to him easily if I wanted to. I decided to stay put with Elizabeth. I thought momentarily about leaving but decided not to. Something about Billy’s manner put me at ease in a way that I never was when I was with Dwight, Richard, Hugo, and James—even before they turned out to be a bunch of fucking bastards. There was also the fact that he handed me a loaded gun. The others had made a point of disarming me. Billy didn’t know who I was—certainly didn’t know if I was safe or not. He just handed me a gun because he thought it would make me feel better. That counted for a lot as far as I was concerned.
The sound of gunfire stopped almost as quickly as it started. That seemed to increase the urgency for Billy, who actually sped up as he went rather than slowing down, his head and arms pumping maniacally as he ran. When he arrived at the RV, I looked through the binoculars and saw him take a deep breath, shoulders heaving. He then set the rifle into his shoulder, pulled open the door, and slowly climbed in. Following this, the scene remained quiet for several minutes. I was starting to fidget and wondering if I should make my way over there or take Lizzy and run when the RV door opened up again. At first, all I saw was a hand, and I literally felt my bowels go soft as I waited to see who it would be.
Billy stepped out and waved in my direction. I didn’t realize I was holding my breath, but it escaped me that moment in a gasp. He made a sweeping “come on over” gesture with his arm.
I patted Lizzy on the shoulder, grabbed the revolver in front of me, and began to walk over. I had misgivings about bringing Lizzy back to that place with me, but there was no way I was leaving her alone out there.
When we made it back, Billy was still outside waiting for us. “The girl stays outside. Jake would like to see you inside.”
I drew up short at this. I felt whatever trust he had managed to establish begin to evaporate. He seemed to sense this. He held up his hands and said, “You don’t want her to see. Trust me.”
Giving him a look that said “don’t try me, asshole,” I stepped into the RV. Dwight’s body was in a pile and bleeding directly on the other side of the door, obviously dead. Deeper into the living area, James was on the floor, also bleeding from the leg. He was on his stomach with his hands bound behind him. It looked like heavy-duty zip ties around his wrists. Dust and debris hung in the air, giving the interior a cloudy, dream-like quality. There were bullet holes all throughout the cabinetry, and some of the windows were shot out as well.
Jake was sitting behind him on the couch. His nose was mashed in, and there was blood all down his face and his front. His shirt was unbuttoned, and I could see a black vest underneath. There were scuffs and tears on it from bullet impacts.
“I ran out of bullets,” said Jake, making it sound like an excuse or an apology for not finishing James off. His voice was clogged and nasal like he had the world’s worst cold. His nose was clearly broken. “So, now that I’m not actively trying to keep them from killing me,” he continued, “it seemed right to me to give you some say in what happens to this one here.”
“Fuck you. Fuck this bitch. Keep that bitch away from me, you hear?” James was practically growling and spitting from his position on the floor. He kept trying to crane his head up to look at us. I could see that his lips and part of his face had swollen up considerably.