At a sign from his chief, one of the sec men stooped and picked up a paddle from the nearest canoe. He slapped it a few times on the water, the noise echoing across the lagoon until it faded. Tourment waved his hand again, and the man stopped.
“I decided this would be best. It will show you and the others what happens to those who stand against me, show the pack in Lowellton what awaits them. And I shall take some fucking delight in it. Start, dear Mephisto.”
The sec boss moved in front of the old man, weaving the knife in his fingers. He glanced, around to make sure the pitcher of hot tar was ready and then bowed to the two women.
“Watch,” he whispered to them.
J.B. REMOVED HIS FEDORA and banged it against the back of one of the seats, raising a cloud of dust. “We’re wasting fucking time,” he said, his voice grim. “You’re more like damned kids than men who want to fight.” He looked around the old cinema at the faces of the gang, mocking them with obvious anger. “We got to go first. We got to have the best blasters. We got to drive the swampwag. We got to mother-fucking stupes.” He rubbed his eyes, showing his fatigue.
“He’s right,” said Ryan. “It’s close to dark. We got us a good plan. One that might just work. And all we’ve done for the last hour is pick our asses and chew round and round and waste time.”
Jak Lauren stood up and moved to join Ryan. “This is our ville, Ryan. Our enemy. Our battle.”
“Then fucking fight it on your fucking own,” spat Finnegan, shaking his head in disgust. “You’re like fucking kids at a fucking game. It’s my ball, so you can’t fucking play.
There was a burst of chattering and shouting angrily directed at Finn. But Ryan shouted louder than anyone and even considered firing a triple burst into the star-embossed ceiling.
“This is it,” he called, when the noise died a little. “Our way or not at all. It’s what we do and we do well. It’s not up for argument. Get it?”
Lauren nodded. “Sure. Guess it’s the only way. Your way.”
“Sure. Now we can talk details. Just you and us and six of your best.”
The kid sucked on his teeth. In that unguarded moment Ryan glimpsed the child of fourteen living inside the body of the trained killer. “Yeah. Not all of us are good with blasters. You see, Ryan, we all read an’ write. Pa made sure of that. Years ago. And his Pa. There’s men and women here with all the skills. They know ‘lectrics, power, water, farming, crops, land how to do all that. They all got a real skill.”
“What’s your skill, young fellow?” asked Doc Tanner.
The snow wolf didn’t hesitate. “I’m the best at butchering men,” he said.
LORI WAS DOUBLED OVER on her knees, her skirt riding up to reveal her buttocks and attracting lustful glances from many of the sec men. She was vomiting copiously, threads of yellowish vomit dangling from her mouth, splattering on the concrete. Krysty stood close to her, watching what Mephisto was doing, determined not to give way and show any weakness.
First he had sliced off all the old man’s fingers, one by one, first holding the wrist on one hand, then the other, to gain enough purchase to force the blade through the knuckle joints. Blood spurted, and the old man struggled and cried out, but the sec men were too strong for him. That was when Krysty saw the reason for the caldron of smoking pitch.
At a nod from Mephisto, the guards thrust their prisoner’s hands into the scalding, sticky liquid. Instantly there came the hiss of steam and the smell of scorched flesh. “Lauren’s body stiffened, then went limp. Tar coated his wrists, sealing off the leaking stumps of his fingers so he didn’t bleed to death.
“Bring him round. I want him conscious for all of this,” said Baron Tourment quietly.
The nearest sec man slapped the old man hard across the face. A ringing round-arm, blow that jerked the skull on the thin neck. His cheeks swollen and bruised, Lauren jerked back to awareness. He started to moan; Tourment gripped him by the jaw.