Rhodes tried to raise himself and throw the deputy off, but he was hurting in places he didn’t even know he had. Johnny squirmed over the top, getting his knee on Rhodes’s neck. Rhodes managed to turn out from under him, but Johnny had the pistol again.
Johnny straightened and turned. That was when the hogs charged. Rhodes could barely see, his eyes being clogged with dirt and twigs, but he heard the sound as one of the hogs crashed into Johnny’s back. All the air went out of the deputy in a loud sigh. The razorback didn’t even slow down. It ran right up over Johnny’s back, and its hooves churned the earth in front of Rhodes’s face. Rhodes didn’t move. He didn’t even breathe.
Johnny was thrashing around. Rhodes could hear his heels striking ground. He could also hear the enraged grunts of the other boar as it dug its snout and tusks into Johnny’s side. Johnny’s voice came out in a continuous low moan.
Rhodes picked up his head and tried to look for the pistol. The other boar had returned, and the two were savaging Johnny as if he were a stuffed doll. His arms and legs swung wildly, but whether he was moving them or whether they were simply flopping, Rhodes could not tell. He saw the pistol and inched toward it.
He reached the gun and got his fingers around it. The hogs were grunting and slobbering; they showed no inclination to desert their prey.
There were four shots left in the pistol. That wasn’t much against two wild hogs. Rhodes used the cane to push himself into a sitting position. He was hurting everywhere from the first beating and from the latest kick, and his hands were not exactly steady. He took a deep breath, held it, and then let it out slowly.
He took careful aim at the right eye of one of the hogs that was nearly facing him and pulled the trigger. The hog stiffened, and there was a high-pitched squeal. The hog took one or two stiff-legged steps and then keeled over, blood pumping from the eye socket.
The other boar looked up. It was the one with the broken tusk. It studied Rhodes as if wondering where in the hell he had come from. Then it charged.
Rhodes fired the pistol. The bullet struck the razorback’s sharply ridged backbone with about as much effect as if it had hit a nearby tree. The hog didn’t even slow down. The bullet appeared to have bothered it about as much as a mosquito. It lowered its head and came on.
Rhodes had not time for another shot. He twisted to the side to avoid the charge, yelling at the pain in his chest.
The boar didn’t hit Rhodes head on, but it caught him a glancing blow on the hip. Rhodes yelled again, not even aware that he was doing it. He was tossed two feet to the side. He managed to sit up again and gripped the pistol with both hands.
The hog came to a stop, tearing up the dirt. For one horrible instant, Rhodes was reminded of a Bugs Bunny cartoon in which Bugs had been a bullfighter. The hog looked exactly like that bull, and Rhodes almost expected to see steam fly out of its ears. Rhodes would never laugh at that cartoon again.
The hog turned, lowered his head, and came back. Rhodes had two shots left, but he didn’t have time to think about it. He looked at the hog’s right eye and pulled the trigger twice. The hog struck Rhodes in the chest like a runaway steam engine. Rhodes dropped the pistol and went away from all the pain.
Chapter 17
Rhodes came out of it with a jerk. It was probably the pain that brought him to himself again. At first, he wasn’t quite sure where he was or what was happening. He couldn’t move his legs.
He lay still for a minute, eyes closed, trying to orient himself. Gradually the sounds of the Big Woods filtered through to his brain. He heard birds whistle and the scratching of insects. He heard Johnny Sherman moaning softly.
He pushed himself up on his elbows and looked down at his legs. The dead boar lay across his thighs. He struggled to a sitting position and shoved at the hog. It must have weighed three hundred pounds. It had a rank smell.
The shoving increased the pain, but he managed to move the hog off his legs. Then he had to lie back again.
He didn’t know how long he lay there. He didn’t know whether he passed out again or not. Nothing had changed when he opened his eyes again, except that Johnny was no longer moaning.
Rhodes rolled over and somehow got to his knees. He crawled over to where Johnny lay. The other dead razorback lay beside him.
Johnny was covered with blood, only a little of it belonging to the hog. They had ripped him up pretty badly, but he was still breathing. His breath was ragged and shallow, but it was there.
Rhodes twisted himself into a sitting position. Even that hurt him. He felt light-headed and dizzy. “Johnny,” he said. His voice was husky and raw. “Johnny, you there?”
The deputy’s eyelids flickered. “I’m. . here,” he said. It was barely a whisper. “Don’t think I’ll be. . going anywhere real soon, you know?”
“I’ll get you out of here, Johnny,” Rhodes said, knowing that it was a lie. He’d be lucky to get himself out.
Johnny tried to laugh and wound up coughing. “I wouldn’t try it if I were you, Sheriff. I think. . my back’s broken. Among other things.” He coughed again and there was blood on his lips. “Wanted to tell you though. You. . were right about some things. Wish. . you could’ve believed me about it all. Didn’t want to have to hit you. Thought. . thought it might be easy to lose you in here. Should’ve known better, I guess.” He stopped and breathed a deep, ragged breath.
“It all pointed to you, Johnny,” Rhodes said. “I just wish I’d seen it sooner.”
“Wasn’t me,” Johnny said.
“Too late for that,” Rhodes said. “Too late.”
Johnny was insistent. “Wasn’t. . me!”
Rhodes shook his head. Even that little movement hurt. “We went through all this, and it wasn’t you? Give me a break, Johnny.”
Johnny tried to laugh again, then broke it off. “I’ve got plenty. . breaks I’d like to give you,” he said. “‘Let me tell you something, though. I went by Jeanne’s house. . like you said. Saw the others there. Bill Tomkins, he. . even drove his car. So one night I stopped.”
“One night?” Rhodes said.
“Just. . one. The night she died. Like you thought. I had in mind a little fun, like the old days. She was a wild one. . then. But, no dice. Wasn’t like that now. She. . slapped me. I hit her back. She. . spit on me. Batted her around pretty good then. Think I broke her arm.”
“Yeah,” Rhodes said. “Her arm was broken. Neck, too. You do that to her face?”
“Maybe the face. Hit her a good one. Not the neck, though. I. . left the house then. She was hurt. Mad. . as hell. Called me all kinds of names. But not. . dead. Not dead.”
“You did start the fight with Terry Wayne?” Rhodes asked.
“Yeah, I did that. Jeanne. . cut me a little.”
“You think a jury will believe you didn’t kill her?”
“Sheriff, the way. . I feel, there won’t be a jury. I just wanted you to know. I hit her. I didn’t. . kill her.”
Rhodes looked around for his cane and spotted it not too far off. He got over to it and pushed himself up. “I’ll get you to a jury,” he said. “I can get to the road and get to town. I’ll send back for you.”
Johnny laughed and then coughed. “Too. . late. Time you get to town, too late.”
“Don’t tell me that, dammit. I’ll get you out of here,” Rhodes said.
Johnny didn’t answer. Rhodes turned and started for the road.
He fell three times on the way out of the woods. The third time, he didn’t get up for a while. Finally, he did. It took him a long time to reach the edge of the trees.
He could see the road when he got outside the woods. His vision was fuzzy, but he thought he could see three vehicles in the road. There was another pickup parked behind Johnny’s.