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“No one told you to stop digging, Hickman,” snarls Romano.
The hole is deep and wide. The earth smells sweet. Flies buzz, biting where sweat streaks down my face and neck.
“That’s enough.” Romano stands above me, legs akimbo as he looks down. “Toss out the spade, then get out. Kneel. Hands locked behind your neck.”
Climbing out, I thrust the spade in the loosely piled earth. Armando and Schmidt stand clear, weapons still aimed.
Romano’s lip curls. “Hickman, I instructed you to kneel. When are you going to learn that I expect my instructions to be followed?” Still, I hesitate. He snatches Katya by the wrist then, his arm locked around her, he smirks, the knife-tip pricking into her neck. “Do as you’re told, Hickman, or I’ll have my fun with her now.”
He angles his face around to hers, speaking as though in the tones of a lover, but his eyes glint as he caresses her throat with the blade. “What do you think, my dear? Schmidt wants to enjoy the benefits you’ve been handing out so freely. After him, Armando. And I suppose I should say that the longer you keep the two of them entertained, the longer you’ll live. Hickman can watch. He’s already proved he enjoys you being fucked. After that…”
Would the spade be enough of a weapon?
“Romano, she’s done nothing. You know she’s done nothing to deserve this.”
His head cants. “Are you pleading for her life, Hickman?”
“Yes.”
He fakes a smile. “I did consider letting her live. If she wants to make her way through the world by spreading her legs, that’s easy enough to arrange. On the other hand, it could lead to…” He spreads his fingers, rocks the hand… “… complications. No, I think we’ll wrap it all up today. Nice and tidy.”
He shoves Katya forward, releasing his hold on her. “Schmidt and Armando want to see what they’ll be fucking. Strip.”
“Leone, please…” Her voice is brittle. Cold. Beyond terror.
“Fucking strip!” He forces forward, shoving the knife into his belt... “Or I’ll do it for you…” … reaching double-handed into the front of her blouse and ripping it open…
She shrieks, her terror rippling through the cry, and as she screams, once more Romano jabs a hand toward me. “Hickman, I gave you an instruction. Kneel… Kneel!” he screams.
I shuffle, making as though to drop to my knees. Romano nods Schmidt toward me. Gun aimed, he steps forward, …
… I lock eyes with Katya…
Abruptly calm, she lifts her chin…
And as the pistol angles toward my temple, I drop and roll, swinging my legs, scything under Schmidt… Unbalancing him…
In the same instant, Katya barrels into Romano. He yelps astonishment... “Bitch!” …backhanding her to the ground…
… and as Schmidt screams, arms windmilling, I grab the spade, swinging for his gun-hand, following through to his torso. The pistol arcs away as he topples, then nose-dives, into the grave. I don’t stop to watch, scrambling for the weapon as it drops into the leaf-litter.
Armando stamps for my hand, but misses...
… and my fingers curl around the grip of the gun…
He kicks for my face, but I roll and swing, snagging an arm around his knee, and he too topples, crashing to the ground next to me. As he impacts, for a bare instant, astonishment washes over his face, morphing to fear, then blanking out as I put a bullet squarely through his forehead.
Behind me, something snatches at my ankle, Schmidt, climbing up, climbing out, grabbing for my leg and dragging me back…
Somewhere I’m conscious that Katya is shrieking… “You bastard!”
… but it sounds like rage, not fear…
Kicking backward with my free leg, I’m rewarded with a grunt and the crunch of cartilage. I kick again. The grip on my ankle releases and, aiming as I roll, I fire…
Schmidt shrieks, then gurgles, as the neck artery spurts, and clutching at his throat, he drops back down into the grave. Scrambling up, I fire again, this time planting the shot through the forehead.
Spinning around, I find Katya locked with Romano, not so much fighting him as hindering him. He’s much larger and stronger than she is, but she’s locked herself around him and he can’t shake her off.
