Even as he took in the bound-and-gagged figure in the chair, the eyes wide with fear and warning, even as he knew what those eyes were signaling--all this passing through his mind in an instant--Chase was still too late and too slow to prevent three pairs of hands clamping him simultaneously on his hand, arm, and shoulder while behind he heard the rattle of the double doors and Nick's gasp of shock as the rifle was wrenched from his grasp.
Baz stood there grinning. "Didn't I tell you?" he boasted to the others. "Had to be." It was his moment of triumph and he was luxuriating in it.
He took a long hunting knife from its sheath, went behind the chair, and sliced through the ropes. Dan sagged forward and clawed the gag from his mouth, sucking in air. He looked old. The bones of his face showed pale through his skin. His lips were bloodless and his eyes were black circles. The flesh hung wrinkled on his elbows.
"Oh, my God," Nick said. "You bloody bastards."
Chase couldn't speak. An icy paralysis held him rigid, an iciness that burned with the most intense and consuming anger he had ever known.
"It's okay, he's alive," Baz said blandly. He held the knife upright, touching the point with successive fingertips. "We could have let him die or killed him. We decided not to."
He looked at Chase, thick fair eyebrows raised as if seeking commendation for this act of mercy. His eyes were a bright dreamless blue. He might have been drugged, mad, or both; it was impossible to say.
Chase pulled himself free and knelt in front of his son. He tried to speak and couldn't. He wanted to say that it was all his fault, his stupidity, that he was to blame for what had happened to his son and Cheryl. He shook his head dumbly, holding Dan's arms like a baby's, as if afraid they might break.
"I was coming to see you at Desert Range, Dad. I wanted you to help us--help me--but they wouldn't let me. I'm sorry for what I did, I--" Dan choked up. His eyes were moist and red-rimmed. "I can't tell you how ashamed I feel. I loved her, Dad. I loved her and yet I did that to her." He hung his head and his shoulders started to heave.
Chase released him and stood up. He turned slowly and looked in turn at each of the seven young men and finally at Baz. He said, "That's why you couldn't let him go, isn't it? It would have ruined your chances of becoming tin-pot dictator here, you and your"--he made an empty, dismissive gesture--"bunch of crazy thugs. Do you know you're insane, Baz?" He glanced around at them. "You're all stark bloody raving mad, did you know that? You've pumped yourselves full of poison and your brain cells have corroded. And you talk about survival of the fittest." Chase shook his head pityingly. "You're a dead man, Baz. All of you are as good as dead. Nothing can save you now."
Baz thrust the point of the blade at Chase's throat. The arteries on his forearm stood out, lumpy and blue, the skin hard and shiny where repeated punctures had formed scar tissue.
"You're fucking dead, Chase, not us!" He rocked forward and Chase felt the tip penetrate his skin. It felt like a red-hot needle. "All I have to do is keep on pushing," Baz said, "and pushing and pushing and we all stand around and watch you bleed to death like a stuck pig. I told you already to get out. That was your one and only chance. But I knew you'd be too dumb to take it."
Nick said, "We're going, we're getting out, all of us. If we go we're out of your way, which is what you want, isn't it? Why keep Dan here or any of us?"
"I don't want you," Baz said, easing back and pointing the knife at Dan. "I want
"Don't give me another chance, Baz," Dan said, his voice hoarse and low. "Next time I will do it."
"That's why you're not going anywhere!" Baz shouted, his eyes glazed blue. "Not any of you!" He blinked and wiped his mouth, as if coming out of a trance, and pushed a hand through his disheveled hair. Then he abruptly grabbed Chase by the shoulder and heaved him violently across the room.
Nick went for him as he strode to the door and actually got a handful of Baz's shirt before three of the others pounced on him and dragged him away. One of them swung a rifle butt at Nick's head and there was a dull solid sound like the distant boom of a cannon and Nick fell to his knees.
Baz kicked at him viciously. "Stay here and fucking rot!" He glared at Chase and Dan, chest heaving. "You're here and you stay here. Cheryl and that other woman have gone and they're never coming back, understand? They can take their chances on the road." Suddenly his grin came on, as if somebody had pulled a string. "We'll let your wife and daughter stay," he told Nick. "Now that Jo's been raped I bet she's got a taste for it." He sprayed his mad grin around at the others. "One at a time or all together, huh?"
