Think, Alex. Think fast.
Stall them. She had to stall them until she could find a way out of this for her and Eddie.
“If it’s money you want…”
“Money,” the shorter one repeated in a sinister tone that said he had all the cards. “Sure we’ll take your money, honey, and anything else we want, if ya know what I mean.”
God help her, she knew exactly what he meant.
Think, Alex, think.
She tried to think. She couldn’t. Her breath came in shallow gasps. Her heart threatened to explode in her chest. Dear God, this couldn’t be happening. It couldn’t. It was.
Think.
Eddie. They had asked if it was just her and Eddie. They didn’t know how many they were.
She had to clench her jaw to keep her chattering teeth from giving her away. Her fingers dug into the coarse cotton of the towel she still clutched. Somewhere in one of the trees, a night owl hooted softly.
“If you don’t want dinner, then you are not welcome here. The men—” she emphasized the word “—will be back any minute. I suggest you be gone by that time.” She waited, holding her breath.
The tall one stood there, arms at his side, his hand dangerously close to his gun. “And just where have these men—” his voice dripped with skepticism “-gone?”
“Hunting…for dinner,” she added, trying to find some plausible explanation. “So, unless you want trouble, I suggest you leave.”
For a full five seconds they didn’t move, didn’t make a sound, and then they laughed. Both of them laughed, a cruel, hard sound that sent dread snaking up her spine.
“Oh! Oh!” the second man whined in a high, mocking voice. “I’m shakin’ in my boots.”
They both laughed again.
“Sorry to disappoint you,” the tall one said, “but the kid up there said as how it was just the two of you right before he invited us to share a little grub.” He straightened. “Course, that was our intention anyways.”
There was more laughter. “Alls a man needs to survive out here is a good horse, food and—” he took another step in Alex’s direction “—a woman. Come on, honey, what say you and me…”
Terror overcame reason. “Go to hell!”
He grabbed her, his fingers digging into the flesh of her upper arm through her blouse. Alex lashed out with everything she had, fists, feet, and finally she raked his face with her nails. She dug in hard, feeling the wetness of his blood on her fingertips.
“Damn you, bitch!” He released her, pushing her away as he did. Alex staggered back, her foot sinking ankle deep in the muddy streambed. Grabbing nothing but air, she fell backward into the water.
Her skirt soaked up water like a sponge, and in no time it seemed to be anchor heavy.
Someone laughed, she wasn’t certain if it was one man or both. Muscles in her back and legs strained against the weight of the skirt. Her wet hair was plastered to her face. She wiped it back. Water gurgled and swirled around her.
Like an animal, she managed to get to all fours, the rocks of the stream sharp against her tender palms. She pushed hard, determined to get up, to turn and face her attacker.
She never saw the blow coming, only felt something on her back an instant before she slammed face first into the water again.
Breathing was impossible. Icy water rushed into her nose and mouth. There was no sound. She tried to rise. Something or someone held her down.
Fingers digging into the streambed, she strained up, twisting, frantic for air. She couldn’t move.
Her lungs ached in her chest. Blood pounded in her ears. Cold. She was mind-numbingly cold. It was so dark. Random thoughts of her father and brother and mother flashed like fireflies in her mind and were gone. She knew she was going to die and there was nothing she could do about it.
Air slipped from her lungs and darkness threatened.
Suddenly she was hauled up. Rough hands held her by the shoulders. She was slammed back against a man’s chest. The skin around her eyes pulled tight as she was held by the hair.
Air rushed into her lungs. Blessed air. Nothing else mattered. Choking, coughing up water, she was too weak to do more than sag against her captor.
Water poured off her in rivulets. Her skin was colder than January snow.
The man’s face pressed against hers; cheek to cheek, he held her. His stubbled face scraped her skin, his putrid breath smelled of whiskey and tobacco.
“Not so feisty now, are you, lady?” he sneered, his lips moving against the side of her face. She shivered, this time not from the cold. Her stomach heaved and bitter bile rose in her throat.
With more strength than she ever thought she possessed, she slammed her elbow hard into his ribs. It didn’t hurt him, but it shocked him enough that he released her.
Legs too cold and stiff, she couldn’t run, but she did manage to face her enemy. She might die here tonight, but she wouldn’t surrender.
He grabbed her wrist and twisted. Pain shot up her arm. “Why you—”
“Cut it out, Lyle,” the tall man commanded from his place on the bank.
Moonlight cut across her attacker’s scarred face. He hesitated. “The hell I will. The damn bitch clawed me.” He twisted her arm harder. She had to bend to keep her arm from breaking.
The man on the bank said, “I thought you liked it rough.” Dimly she saw him lift up in the stirrups. “You’ve had your fun, now bring her. I’m hungry. We’ll see who goes first with her after I get some grub in my gut. Besides, Fred’ll want in on this.”
Her attacker, the one called Lyle, stared at her with ferretlike eyes and she thought he wouldn’t obey his comrade, then he surprised her and said, “Come on, you.”
The man half dragged her from the stream. The water-drenched skirt pulled her down. The muscles in her legs cramped and she fell. Mud oozed up between her fingers, smeared her face and clothes.
“Get the hell up.” He yanked her by the hair. Her neck snapped back. Tears pooled in her eyes and slid down her face, blending with the water that cascaded from her matted hair.
A night wind skimmed the tops of the cottonwoods. The leaves fluttered and rattled together. The gurgling of the stream faded as she crawled up the embankment. Her teeth chattered. She shook so hard, she thought she’d shake apart from the force of it. All she knew was that she was alive. For a little while, another minute, she was alive.
Think. Find a way out, a way to survive.
Twenty feet away, she could see the fire she’d started a short while ago. Bright red flames tinged with blue danced and played among the wood she’d stacked there. She remembered the flames shooting into the night sky and wondered if that was how these scum had found them.
She staggered into the camp, her dress dragging behind her like a royal train. Eddie was seated by the fire, his back to her. They both were alive—but for how long?
Across from Eddie was a third man. He had thinning blond hair and a scraggly beard of the same dingy color. His plaid shirt was pulled button-straining tight over his fat belly. A rifle was balanced on his knees, his hand caressing the metal like a lover touches his mate. He didn’t speak, just watched her in a way that made her skin crawl.
“Look see what we found, Fred.”
The