He smiled. I warned you about underestimating me, he said. Your sister has thirty seconds and then the whore gets skewered.
Don’t call her that.
You mean you don’t know? This girl was a regular old harlot before Dad lifted her up. Spent more time on her knees than a Catholic convert.
I kept my eyes on him, if only to keep from giving myself away by glancing at the knife. All this time I could’ve guessed what Dawn’s past was like even without being told. It never bothered me, really, in the same way I refused to let Mom’s past bother me, shameful as it was. Ellie once accused me of using the pain of the women around me to serve my own vanity. She may have been right. But now all I could think of was finding a way to free Dawn from the grasp of the vengeful madman in front of me. The point of the corkscrew had moved slightly, revealing a wine-red mark on the flesh where it once had rested. I was so tense I didn’t notice Sandra approaching from behind me.
Please, she said. Her voice was more than a whisper but less than anything else. You don’t have to do this. Whatever problems we have, it’s not worth hurting an innocent person.
Innocent? He asked the question without sarcasm, as if the mere fact that she’d use the word was baffling and fascinating to him. No, he said. She’s not innocent. You all knew I was chained up back there. Someone has to pay, one way or another.
The shot rang out so suddenly, me and Sandra both jumped back and bumped our thighs against the side of the table. His collapse was immediate—he didn’t even have time to react until he was already on the floor. His screams filled the kitchen as Ellie came in from the hallway. She discharged the empty shell and planted the butt of the rifle squarely on the linoleum and kicked the corkscrew to the corner. Then she turned to Dawn.
Are you all right?
Dawn was shaking in Sandra’s arms. Now that the danger had passed, the realization of just how close it had come seemed to be hitting her all at once. I can’t, she said. I can’t stand it. I won’t be threatened like this. Not here.
You won’t be, Ellie said. Not ever again. She looked at me, then, to see how I was doing. It’s embarassing to admit, but my mouth was hanging open. She nodded to the space on the floor where the prisoner lay writhing. See what the damage is, she said.
I grabbed the knife off the counter and used it to cut away the section of pant leg where the bullet had gone through. More blood than I had ever seen was pouring from the wound. Tears streamed down the prisoner’s face as he completed his final transition from villain to victim.
Help me, he said. I’m dying. Dear God, I’m really dying.
You’re not dying, I said. The bullet tore through the side of your calf. It’s not pretty, but it’s a flesh and muscle wound.
I won’t say it wasn’t a let-down, and in fact I think he could hear the disappointment in my voice as I gave the diagnosis. Pretty soon most of the extended Temple family was crowding into our kitchen at the same time. Ellie, Beth, and Katie all worked at comforting Dawn while Sandra kept watch over the little ones in the living room. Logan helped me fashion a tourniquet of sorts out of dish towels and a leather belt and together with Will we managed to get the prisoner onto his feet and lead him back down the hall to his room. Mom scowled as he hobbled by. Desgracia, she said. It was the first time I’d heard her use the word.
The prisoner was bawling so uncontrollably it seemed doubtful to me that it could’ve all come from the pain in his leg. Maybe this was the worst thing that ever happened to him, I don’t know. Since arriving at the farm he’d been struck in the face, bashed over the head, and chained to a rail like an animal. But something about the loss of blood really triggered something in him. He was shivering as we laid him out on the bed.
Go get some hot water and the first aid kit, I said. We’ll do the best we can to clean it up.
A few squirts of iodine and a bandage roll later and the wound was sterile enough to leave unattended. I almost forget to refasten the chain to the bed, not that it would have made much difference. We took his bloodied bed sheets and left him whimpering in solitude.
Get some rest, I said at the door. I’ll be back later with dinner.
Will and Logan gave me strange looks on the way back up the hall. I didn’t blame them. Though they trusted me with the responsibility of a situation neither of them wanted to be saddled with, their patience had been shallow since Ellie’s bruises first appeared. Now the well was all but dry.
There’s a lot of space out there in the orchards, Logan said.
Yep, Will said. Hundred and twenty acres. Whole lot of space.
Space enough to where you could lose something out there and never find it again.
Lose it under the soil and it’s gone for good.
Bury it deep enough and it’s like it never existed.
Ain’t that the truth.
Yep.
I nodded along with their insinuations, but refused to commit myself to anything aloud. Back in the kitchen, Beth and Sandra were mopping up the blood, leaving damp bright streaks of red across the linoleum. I took Ellie’s arm and led her away from the group of women and secured us a private space to talk in the pantry. She still had the rifle with her, propped up at her side with her hand around the barrel, keeping it steady. Months ago, when we were still getting to know each other, I would’ve teased her and called her a lesbian and demanded that she give it back to me right away. Now I could’ve given a rat’s ass about any of it. My priorities had finally been put in order.
Is he really going to make it? she asked.
The wound’s shallow but it’s wide, I said. It’s liable to get infected.
He’ll need stitches for it to heal properly.
Yeah, but he’s not getting any. There’s no point in trying to find a doctor. Not now.
Ellie nodded. You’re right, she said. There’s no going back from it. No way we could ever feel safe with him around.
I’m glad you feel that way, I said. And I understand why you couldn’t do it yourself.
Believe me. I would’ve if I could. But I was afraid of hitting Dawn by mistake. His leg was the only part of him that was open. Otherwise I’d have dropped him right then and there. Never thought I’d be able to do it. But seeing Dawn like that erased all doubt from my mind. We’ve got to take care of this before he destroys us all. You were right. You were right all along.
Gratifying as it was to hear her praise me in earnest, instead of with her usual sarcastic double-edge, I couldn’t bring myself to enjoy any of it. No, I said. I was never anything but talk. If I’d been able to handle the meaning of the thing, I’d have done it when I had the chance.
Don’t blame yourself for that. There was nothing you could do. He was too quick.
I had the shot. I had him on his back with the barrel on his chest. But he took a good look at me and knew I’d never go through with it. He knew I was scared shitless about what it would mean for my soul.
Let’s not pretend like we know how he thinks. We’ve been burned twice already.
I need you to do me a favor.
Of course. Anything.
I need you to give me a couple more days with him. Before I carry it out.
What for?
I’m going to keep reading to him from the Bible. I’m going to try to save him before I set his spirit loose.
Christ. What’s the point if you’re just going to kill him?
Everything. That’s the point. If I’m going to take a life, then I have to know I gave him a fair chance to be redeemed. Or else I’ll wonder about it forever, and it’ll tear me up inside.
She looked at me with her lips slightly parted and her tongue drawing compulsive circles over the roof of her mouth. If she tried to keep the rifle away from me, then she’d have to be the one to take care of the problem, and then before long her own thoughts would get to her, and she’d be the one in need of saving. That was my figuring, anyway, as she pondered my request, moving her cold eyes over me, like doubting Thomas looking for nail marks.