Lucas was led back inside where Randy Oglesby and Meredyth stood shivering together, but he didn't come in quietly, shouting rather that they were all too cowardly and too poor at hunting to give him a fighting chance. He was bolstered only by the fact that Price's quick pat down of him hadn't revealed the Bowie knife couched in the small of his back. “Some great white hunters you are!” Lucas repeatedly said. “Just what kind of sport is it to gun down three unarmed people? One of them a woman, another a boy? Where's the sport in that, Bryce?”
It was a challenge, a tossing down of the gauntlet, and Lucas prayed the white-haired mass murderer would take it as such. But Bryce said nothing; rather, his eyes moved about the room, taking in his cohorts in crime, assessing the timber of each man and woman on his team.
Lucas kept it up, saying, “Give us a five-minute head start.”
Meredyth piped in. “At least make it interesting. Give us something to defend ourselves with.”
Bryce's grim eyes lit up with a new fire. The old man of the bunch, Helsinger 1, looked from one to the other of his remaining converts. Finally, Sterling Washburn said, “Let's do it… It will be a privilege to hunt this Indian down and put an arrow through his red devil's heart.” She looked smugly in Lucas's direction.
Bullock and Price each agreed with gestures of acceptance, while Pierce Dalton suggested they simply kill the intruders here and now and be done with it.
“Four to one against you, Pierce,” said Bryce. “I'm not too old for a bit of sport.”
“We don't need the others, Bryce,” suggested Sterling, her teeth bared. “I want just the two of us to hunt them down, like old times… like we did with the last person who got in our way.”
And that would be a guy named Gunther, thought Lucas, but all he said was a repeat of his request. “Just give us five minutes lead time, to make it sporting.”
“Unarmed?” said Meredyth. “How sporting is that?”
Lucas realized he was in a room full of trophy hunters. “No guns, though,” Lucas suggested. “Only your crossbows, like Dr. Washburn says.”
Grimly, a smile spread across Bryce's lips. “Be like old times, huh, fellas? All right, Sterling.”
“Don't be a fool, Andrew,” Dalton said through his teeth.
“You hunted together as kids, during your college years, didn't you?” asked Lucas. “Do you think you have what it takes to go against the most dangerous animal in the woods, an Indian?”
It was a challenge the people in the room could not walk away from. Even Bullock and Price, the obviously younger, newer members of the kill squad, now wanted this opportunity to even the score after their failed attempt in Rapid City.
“Well?” pushed Lucas.
“We'll do it, five minutes. You'll never get beyond the property line,” replied Bryce, a hearty laugh for his colleagues in crime. 'Turn the three rabbits loose.
“Wait… wait,” said Randy, his voice quivering. “How did you make it look like Lawrence? How did you snake your communications through his computer?”
“Sorry, kid, but it would take all night to explain it to you, and we're too anxious for the hunt, aren't we, folks?” asked Bryce of his people.
They were ushered out into the night by Bullock and Price, Sterling shouting out, “Run, run, run. Five minutes, red man, and we send you back to the filthy, pagan god from which you came, but not before we cut you into little pieces!” Her banshee like laughter trailed after them.
Inside the house, the old man, leader of the group, began passing out crossbows and arrows.
Lucas ushered Meredyth and Randy along, Randy stumbling. “Make for the trees along that riverbank!” he told them, pointing.
“What trees? What river?” Meredyth marveled at his quick ability to adjust his sight from the light of the house to the darkness of night.
“Straight ahead.”
“You bought us time, but we're helpless without any way to defend ourselves,” she complained.
“There are ways, if we can put some distance between us and them. Hurry! Trust me,” he pleaded, and they ran on.
Now they were the object of a crazed manhunt; they were the sweated, chased prey. “There are weapons all around us,” Lucas informed them. “You just have to know how to see. There, that branch lying over there, Randy! Pick it up and hold on to it. You get within a few feet of one of those goons, you see how he likes wood and bark in his teeth.”
Randy grabbed on to the heavy limb as if it were a Remington rifle. He tried it out with a few swings. It felt good, comforting in its heavy solidity. Randy clung to it.
“Collect stones, Meredyth, as many as you can carry.”
She did so. Lucas knew it was good putting them to work, although it slowed their progress, and the primitive weapons were little to no match for Bryce's high-tech arsenal. And Lucas knew what Bryce had said was true. The size of the ranch made it unlikely that they would get anywhere near its boundaries.
“You think they'll come on horseback?” asked Randy on hearing the whinny of a horse.
“It's quite possible, yes.”
“With those sighted crossbows with laser beams on them, and them on horseback… damn, we don't stand a chance. They'll shoot us down like rabid dogs. What does it matter if it's with guns or arrows? Damn it, goddamn it to hell, they're going to murder us and there's not a bloody blasted thing we can do about it!”
“Shut up and search for a place to hide!” Lucas angrily shouted.
They ran on into the night, now hearing the pounding of hooves behind them.
Randy ranted further. “Damn it, they're right on us, heading straight for us. How do they know?”
The howling of dogs gave them the answer.
“Some sporting chance,” muttered Meredyth.
'Take off your clothes,” cried Lucas.
“What?”
“Some of your clothes! Take them off! Both of you!”
Randy started to protest but thought better of it, stripping away his shirt.
Meredyth hesitated. “What about you?” she asked Lucas.
“Strip down, Meredyth! Now, no questions!”
She joined Randy, stripping down to her bra and panties Randy down to his boxer shorts. Lucas collected the clothes and said, “I'm going to take the killers off your scent. Keep following the river south. Eventually, it should take you out to the road. Try to flag down help and get to a phone.”
“But what about you, Lucas?” Meredyth didn't like this plan. “They'll follow you and kill you.”
“Follow me, right… that's the idea. Kill me? Not without some doing. Now go! Randy, take her and go!”
Lucas raced off northward along the riverbank, carrying their clothes with him. They watched him disappear into the thick brush and trees until Randy was able to pull her away, saying, “We've got to trust he knows what he's doing, and there's no better game in town, and they're coming, Dr. Sanger. Come on. Come away…”
At the river's edge, Meredyth spotted an uprooted tree that might provide them with some cover. Behind them, the thundering hooves and the howling dogs had come nearer and nearer. Randy agreed to the hiding place, slamming down behind the tree with her.
The dogs-three in all-slowed at the spot where they'd split from Lucas, circling the spot for a moment, separating momentarily until the leader yelped and hauled himself off in the direction Lucas had taken. The other two followed, but then one of them circled back and slowly, easily sniffed its way toward the overturned tree.
Riders on horseback came over the rise and tore down toward the river, hearing the yelping dogs that now pursued Lucas. The riders reined in and turned their horses in the new direction, not seeing the lone dog making its way toward the downed tree behind which Randy and Meredyth had stopped breathing. She realized as if for the first time she was holding fast to two heavy stones, but they were useless against a snarling dog, she told herself. Even as she thought this, she was glad to have something firm and solid to hold fast to, and if the dog should get within range, begin tearing at her and Randy, she could, if called on to do so, bring the stones to bear on the animal's skull. Lucas was wise. The stones in her grasp gave her courage, hope.
The horses thundered away, momentarily confusing the hound that made its inexorable approach toward Randy, who was closest to the animal.
“What're we going to do?” Randy whispered.
“Shhhh. Use your weapon.”
The dog leaped, its teeth bared, straight for Randy, who stuck the pointed and jagged edge of the tree limb straight up and out. The dog's chest and shoulder area came down on the limb, ripping its skin and sending it sideways, snatching the limb free from Randy's hand. The dog was stunned, slowed, but not incapacitated. It had yelped in pain and now growled as it worked its way up, fell, and stumbled to its feet, trying to get to all fours again.
Meredyth dropped one of the stones she had held on to and pushed past Randy, crouched over the snarling beast, and brought the stone down on it, striking the bared teeth and snout, sending it reeling back in shock.
Meredyth dreaded striking a second blow, feeling the animal's pain, but she hadn't a choice. As Randy looked on, she brought the stone down a second time, striking the dog in silence with a blow to the side of the head. Meredyth's hands and the stone came away bloodied.
Randy felt his stomach give a dry heave, the pain excruciating. He had been bitten by the dog somehow in the moments between hitting it with the stick and Meredyth's attack on the little monster. He now doubled over and this time vomited his evening's meal.
“Damn,” he tried to joke it off, “now when they find my body and they do the autopsy and try to learn my last meal, they won't find a damned thing…”
“Nobody's going to find your body. Remember? They're going to stuff us all below a manure pile by the stables. We'll never be located. We will have simply disappeared.”
“You really know how to comfort a guy,” he replied, and then began to laugh hysterically.
“What is the matter with you?”
“Darlene. I'm in love with her. She loves me. My screwed-up life was just getting in order. Now this. Now I'm a dead man.”
She was in tears. Randy crawled to her, exhausted, frightened, cold with the chill of a cold Texas night breeze sprinkling raindrops like confectioners' sugar on his bare skin. He tried to comfort her, but she pulled away, saying, “We've got no time for tears and self-pitying blubbering damn it! We've got to help Lucas.”
Randy looked stricken. “Are you crazy? He told us to get the hell out of here, led them off in his direction so we'd have a fighting chance to get to the road, flag down help. It's what he wants.”
“He could be dead by the time we get help.”
“If we go after him, we could be dead even sooner.”
“I'm not arguing this. I've got to find Lucas and help him. You do whatever you think best, Randy. Go on, get to the road, get help! It's a good plan.” We saw a hell of a lot of traffic out on the road leading in, she sarcastically thought but did not say. She shoved at him, nodding, telling him it would be smarter.
“No, no, no… He said for us to both find the road, get help, remember? He wanted me to take care of you.”
She almost stated the cruel and obvious truth, that he could not in his wildest dreams take care of her. “You find the road. I'm going to find Lucas.” She pulled away from him.
He chased after her, tackled her, and held on. “You can't! I won't let you!”
She pounded him with her fists. “Randy, I'm not leaving him to the… to the dogs.”
Randy was over her now, pinning her arms, staring into her eyes, breathing wildly, a human umbrella against the falling raindrops. “Are you just plain crazy, Meredyth?”
In the distance, a lightning bolt streaked across the sky.
“Let me up! Let me go, Randy, now, damn you!” God, but she hated the helplessness of her female weakness against his male strength.
Randy found himself helplessly drawn to her, despite his professed love for Darlene. Meredyth just felt good beneath him, and she was down to her bra, and Randy was getting randy for her. He held her there longer, staring down at her, saying, “God, Meredyth, you… you're even prettier when you're mad.”
She pushed and shouted. “Goddamn it, Randy, let me go!” She kicked out, her knee catching him in a vulnerable place, sending him reeling in pain.
He relented, rolling to one side, helplessly groaning as she skittered away. In a moment, however, his groans turned to laughter at her.
“What is so bleeding funny?”
“You… you and me. What possible good can we do here, Meredyth? We're unarmed, and even if we were armed, neither one of us can shoot straight.”
“Lucas gave me some lessons,” she said defensively, even knowing he was right.
“Just the same, we have no weapons. A stick and a stone against a hunting dog is one thing, but against five mad humans? Please, please be reasonable and come away with me.”
The silver drizzle began slanting in at them from the south, from the direction where the road must be. Dark clouds overhead swirled as if stirred, a celestial cauldron filled with gray, black, and purple ingredients. She said nothing, mulling over his words, Randy hoped.
“It's suicide, Meredyth, and even if you never knew it or never acknowledged it… I… I love you… and if anything should happen to you… I'd never forgive myself…”
She stared at him, realizing for the first time why he had gotten himself so deeply involved in this most deadly of games, why he had never once said no to her. “Damn you, Randy Oglesby,” she muttered, found her footing and stormed away, running off in the direction the horses had taken. Randy was left with the blank night and the unconscious dog and his tree limb. He finally decided to follow Meredyth, the rain drenching them but also drenching any odor trail left by Stonecoat for the dogs to follow. Had Lucas Stonecoat somehow conjured up the rain? Randy wondered. Did he know the rain was imminent when he had so heroically made off with their clothes to create a false trail for the dogs to follow?
Randy wasn't so sure that the Indian didn't possess some magic or medicine bag of tricks he kept tucked away. In any case, Randy was now shivering, sloshing through a black forested area in the cold rain in his skivvies, one part of his brain wishing he were a little kid again, at home with his parents yelling up the stairs for him to come away from his computer games and down to dinner, another part of his brain wondering why he was not going in the direction of safety but in the direction of danger in senseless pursuit of a woman whom he could never have, trying to keep up with a woman who often had made him feel weak and foolish, a woman who had saved him from the fanatical fangs of a wounded and angry dog, a woman who was tough and resourceful and beautiful and stubborn as hell.