Covered with blood. Strung up like scarecrows. Like sacrifices in some bizarre and perverse ritual. Other people—townsfolk—were finishing the process of tying their arms and legs.

“They look pretty,” said a voice behind her. “Don’t they?”

Rachael turned her head, which was enormously painful to undertake. The two men who’d carried her stood there. One was coiling a length of rope. The other was lighting a cigarette. He grinned at her through the smoke.

“What the fuck are you doing?” growled Rachael, but it came out hoarse and weak.

“Maintaining order,” said the man. He took a deep drag and exhaled blue smoke into the air. “You and your friends could have had it all. Clean beds, food, shelter. Instead you had to go and piss in the punchbowl. You’re too stupid to even know when you’re on top.”

The man with the rope smirked. “I’d like to be on top of her,” he said.

The other man took the cigarette out of his mouth and pointed to the other four townsfolk. “You do that shit again, Kyle, and they’ll dime you out to the mayor. Miss Van Sloane doesn’t like it when we get grabby and you damn well know it. Or do you want to spend another week shoveling shit alongside the helpers?”

“Might be worth it,” said the second man, eyeing Rachael. “Look at the cans on her. Bet she be—”

Rachael kicked him in the balls.

She kicked him as hard as she could, and he doubled over, eyes bugging, a thin whistling wordless howl bursting from his mouth. She wanted to kick him again, harder, but a wave of dizziness and nausea slammed her back onto the dirt. The other four townies turned and came hurrying over, demanding to know what happened. The man who’d been kicked was entirely unable to manage a single articulate word.

The guy with the cigarette waved the others off. “It’s nothing. Kyle was making a joke and this little slut tried to get cute. Come on, help me get her up.”

They left Kyle on the ground and the five others crowded around Rachael, swatting aside her attempts to punch and kick, howling and cursing when she slipped one in. They slapped and punched her and finally dragged her by sheer force to her feet and as a group hauled her over to an empty post. She screamed and tried to bite them, but there were five of them and one of her, and they won.

Rachael never stopped fighting, though. Not for a moment.

— 28 —: THE SOLDIER AND THE DOG

— 28 —

THE SOLDIER AND THE DOG