“Time has come, outlanders,” Mandeville announced, tapping the whip against the side of his boot.
Before he said anything else, he was aware that everyone was looking past him to a small staircase, where Marie stood looking at the assembly.
She wore a simple white blouse, with a ruffle of lace at her throat, black leather riding breeches so tight that they looked like they’d been sprayed onto her, and the same soft maroon boots she had on when they first saw her, with the same savage Mexican rowel spurs. Her gloves were scarlet leather, and she carried a vicious quirt. Her astounding hair was pulled back and tied with a ribbon of azure silk.
Her slit eyes burned toward Michael, but he, to his great credit, held his nerve and smiled at her, then turned away and spat on the stone floor.
“I hope you keep that courage after the hunt when you and I are alone again,” she said.
“Fuck you, lady.” It was Mildred speaking, and she gave Marie the finger. “Let’s get on with this sad and sorry charade, shall we?”
THE BARON HAD GESTURED for his sec boss to tell Ryan and his friends what the rules of the game were. Outside the ville, they could all hear occasional rumbles of thunder, promising a return of yet another of the vicious chem storms that were whirling around Kansas. Through the tall windows it was possible to see that the day had become darker.
“You have a fifteen-minute start by my chron,” Guiteau told them. “You get to the main gate and go from there. Stay together or split up. Doesn’t matter. After the rain, there’s no way you can hide your tracks from us. We come after you. Run or hide. Up to you. We catch you and you all get chilled.” He hesitated and glanced at Marie. “One way or another, fast or slow. Remember what I said to you, Cawdor.”
Ryan nodded, saying nothing.
“No questions, outlanders?” the baron asked, beaming at them as though he’d just wondered if anyone wanted more chestnut stuffing with their Thanksgiving turkey.
Nobody spoke. In the silence Marie gave a small, uncontrollable giggle of anticipation that was one of the most chilling and obscene sounds that Ryan had ever heard.
“I NEVER SAW so many sec men,” J.B. said, observing the proceedings for the hunt with a dispassionate fascination. “Going to leave the ville short.”
“Yeah,” Ryan agreed.
Mildred was at their elbow. “No point in at least asking if they’ll spare Dean, is there?”
“No.” Ryan looked around him, seeing that the chem storm was not that far away, with lightning lacing the sky. The wind flurried, and he felt a brief spatter of small rain in his face. Tasting it, he found that it didn’t have the bitter acid tang of the previous storm.
Both the baron of Sun Crest and his daughter had disappeared into the ville, no doubt to take some last-minute refreshment before hunting seven human beings to a brutish death.
But dozens of sec men circled the courtyard, watching the prisoners. Harry Guiteau stood among them, peering down at his chron in the gathering gloom. “Looks like you’ll die wet, Cawdor,” he shouted, getting a burst of laughter from his men.
“I can live with that.” Ryan’s retort also brought the reward of broad grins.
“I reckon time’s about up, outlanders. Fifteen minutes from Now!”
Chapter Thirty-One
The gaudy was on the eastern edge of the old town of Everett, thirty miles from Seattle, overlooked by the magnificence of the Cascades. But nobody was that interested in the view of the snow-topped mountains.
Everyone was much too busy watching the developing situation at a quiet table in one corner, near the stairs, watching the skinny little guy with the droopy mustache and the older, grizzled man who sat with him.
They’d been in the area for several days. All that was known was that they’d been making a point of approaching any travelers or packmen, giving them a generous handful of jack and a message to carry. Local curiosity had immediately revealed the nature of the message.
It was for the traders to give to a one-eyed man named Ryan Cawdor, if they should encounter him on thek travels. Or a small, quiet man with glasses named John Dix. The message had been short and simple.