Neal felt Billy’s hand grab at his sleeve and he flipped the right rein over and tried to pull his horse away, but Midnight leaned in, laying his bulk against the other horse’s shoulder and pushing him away and damn near bouncing Billy off his saddle.
It damn near lost Neal, too, but he managed to hold on with his left hand and keep riding. Then Billy was back again, right at Neal’s side, his right foot out of the stirrup and poised on the saddle. Neal saw he was getting ready to jump, for God’s sake. Jump and pull Neal and the boy off the galloping horse, and the Mills place was so close
… so close… he could see the house now, and the wire fence. Then Billy swung his left foot out of the stirrup, staying on his horse just by the reins, that crazy cowboy look in his eye and his muscles coiled to spring and-
Midnight jumped to clear the fence and Billy slid off his rump and landed hard on the barbed wire. He ripped himself out, though, when the bullets started kicking the ground up around him.
Midnight seemed to sense he had done his job and slowed to a canter as he came into the yard, where Steve Mills stood with his rifle. The horse took two more strides, then his heart finally gave out. Neal swung off the saddle a second before Midnight dropped and rolled onto his side. Neal got down on his knees and cradled the horse’s head. Midnight’s eyes rolled back, his mouth heaved streams of foam, his legs jerked.
For the first time in the whole damn ordeal, Neal started to cry. He felt Steve standing over his shoulder.
“Steve, I-”
“Your friends told me all about it. I’ll take care of your horse. You better get that boy inside.”
Neal staggered through the door into the kitchen. Karen took the pack from his shoulders and cradled Cody in her arms. The last thing Neal heard before he collapsed was a single shot from Steve’s rifle.
13
The boy’s a survivor, that’s the understatement of the year,” Karen Hawley said. “He needs hospitalization, a ton of vitamins, long-term psychiatric care, and his mother. 1 intend to start with the hospital. Right away.”
“What do you mean?” Neal asked. They were standing in Shelly’s bedroom, where Karen had Cody wrapped up in blankets on the floor.
“I mean I’m taking him to Austin right now and calling a helicopter to take him to the hospital in Fallon.”
“You can’t do that,” Neal answered.
Karen got her back up and stared at Neal. “You’re forgetting that I’m the child abuse officer for South Lander County, and this child has most certainly been abused. I’m taking him into my custody. Do I need to arrest you? Fine. Neal Carey, or whatever your name is, you’re under arrest.”
“I mean you can’t do that because the house is surrounded by armed men.”
It had taken three hours of intermittent sniping and return fire to get a rough idea of how many men and where they were. Four, at least, in the big hay barn, two more around the road, probably three scattered in the sagebrush around the house.
And they have all night, Neal thought. All night and a good part of the morning before we have a chance of getting any help.
“I’m not afraid of those dickheads,” Karen said.
“You should be,” Neal answered. Right now they’re trying to work out a way to rush this place. They know they have us outnumbered and outgunned. If Strekker were out there he’d have already put it in motion. Coordinate fire on all sides at the same time to keep us pinned down, then rush a few men with Molotov cocktails and set the house on fire. Hell, they’re sitting right next to a tractor barn filled with gas tanks and plenty of empty bottles. Hansen’s taking a little longer to work it out, but he will. Then it will be all over.
We have to make a deal.
“You can go in a couple of hours,” Neal said, “when it’s light.”
“Do you think they’ll let us through?” Karen asked.
“Yeah, I do.”
If they’re all lying dead on the ground.
Just then he heard a crash of glass downstairs and then the terrifying crackle of flame. He ran down to see Steve stamping the flame out in the kitchen while Ed fired a shotgun out into the night.
I guess Hansen figured it out, Neal thought.
They all dropped to the floor when bullets whined through the window.
“You want to burn, Jew?” Neal heard Hansen yell. “We got lots of gas here! Enough for our own little crematorium!”
Neal heard men laughing in the barn.
“Come out, Jew! Unless you want to burn! I want you, Jew! Stop hiding behind women and children and come out here!”
Steve said, “I’m going.”
He started to get up. Neal grabbed him and pulled him back down. “The hell you are.”
Ed crawled back to the window and fired a couple of rounds in the general direction of Hansen’s voice.
“Out, Jew! Out, Jew!” came more shouting.
Then some comedian in the barn yelled, “Juden raus, Juden raus!” and the rest of the gang picked up the chant.
“Juden raus! Juden raus! Juden raus!”
Neal heard three shots crack through an upstairs window. Steve dashed up the stairs to find Peggy clutching Shelly on the floor behind the bed.
“Oh, God,” he moaned. “Are you all right?”
“We’re fine,” Peggy answered. Shelly nodded. She had tears in her eyes but she made a point of smiling at her father.
“Get in the bathroom,” Steve said.
“Let me have a gun,” said Peggy.
Steve shouted out the window, “There are women and children in here!”
The answer came back, “Juden raus! Juden raus! Juden raus!”
Peggy saw the look in her husband’s eyes and stated, “You are not going out there.”
“Yeah, I am, Peg.”
“Don’t you give me any of that a-man’s-gotta-do-what-a-man’s-gotta-do bullshit, Steve.”
Steve crouched beside his wife and stroked her hair. “But sometimes it’s true. Sometimes a man does have to do what a man has to do.”
“Daddy, they’ll kill you!” Shelly cried.
Steve put his arms around them both and hugged them hard, then he got up and started down the stairs.
Neal grabbed him by the front of the shirt.
“Get out of my way, Neal,” Steve said.
“I’m going out with you.”
“This isn’t your fight.”
“I started it.”
Steve shook his head. “They started it. Now, Neal, don’t make me kick your ass before I go out and kick theirs. I might get worn out.”
The chant got louder and wilder. “Juden raus! Juden raus! Juden raus!” The men outside were working themselves into a frenzy of hatred.
“Get out of my way, Neal,” Steve repeated. His voice had the same edge it had had just before he slung that punch at Cal Strekker that night that now seemed years ago. He grabbed Neal’s shoulders and started to push.
Neal tightened his grip on Steve’s shirt. “I’m going with you,” Neal whispered, “but let’s make sure that we get done what we want to get done. You want to trade yourself for Peggy and Shelly. I want Karen, the boy, and my friends. There’s no point in going out there unless we can make that deal.”
Neal watched the man think about it for a few seconds.
“All right,” Steve said. “See what you can do.”
They went back downstairs. Neal sidled along the wall to the kitchen window and shouted, “Mr. Hansen! Tell your baboons to shut up for a few seconds! I want to talk!”
There was a pause and the chanting died down.
“What are you doing, Neal?” Ed asked.
“Shut up and reload the guns,” Neal answered.
“What do you want, Carey?” Hansen yelled.
“I want to know what you want!”