`They were after both of us,’ I said. `They figure Hubble talked to me in prison. They figure I’ve told you all about it. So they think you and I know whatever it was Hubble knew.’
She nodded, vaguely. Then she moved away and leaned up near her back door. Looking out at her neat evergreen garden. I saw her go pale. She shuddered. The defences crashed down. She pressed herself into the corner by the door. Tried to flatten herself onto the wall. Stared into space like she was seeing all the nameless horrors. Started crying like her heart was broken. I stepped over and held her tight. Pressed her against me and held her as she cried out the fear and the tension. She cried for. a long time. She felt hot and weak. My shirt was soaked with her tears.
`Thank God we weren’t here last night,’ she whispered.
I knew I had to sound confident. Fear wouldn’t get her anywhere. Fear would just sap her energy. She had to face it down. And she had to face down the dark and the quiet again tonight, and every other night of her life.
`I wish we had been here,’ I said. `We could have gotten a few answers.’
She looked at me like I was crazy. Shook her head.
`What would you have done?’ she said. `Killed four men?’
`Only three,’ I said. `The fourth would have given us the answers.’
I said it with total certainty. Total conviction. Like absolutely no other possibility existed. She looked at me. I wanted her to see this huge guy. A soldier for thirteen long years. A bare-knuckle killer. Icy blue eyes. I was giving it everything I had. I was willing myself to project all the invincibility, all the implacability, all the protection I felt. I was doing the hard, no-blink stare that used to shrivel up drunken marines two at a time. I wanted Roscoe to feel safe. After what she was giving me, I wanted to give her that. I didn’t want her to feel afraid.
`It’s going to take more than four little country boys to get me,’ I said. `Who are they kidding? I’ve shit better opponents than that. They come in here again, they’ll go out in a bucket. And I’ll tell you what, Roscoe, someone even thinks about hurting you, they die before they finish thinking.’
It was working. I was convincing her. I needed her to be bright, tough, self-confident. I was
willing her to pick it up. It was working. Her amazing eyes were filling with spirit.
`I mean it, Roscoe,’ I said. `Stick with me and you’ll be OK.’
She looked at me again. Pushed her hair back. `Promise?’ she said.
`You got it, babe,’ I said. Held my breath.
She sighed a ragged sigh. Pushed off the wall
and stepped over. Tried a brave smile. The crisis
was gone. She was up and running.
`Now we get the hell out of here,’ I said. `We
can’t stay around like sitting targets. So throw
what you need into a bag.’
`OK,’ she said. `Are we going to fix my door first?’
I thought about her question. It was an important tactical issue.
`No,’ I said. `If we fix it, it means we’ve seen it. If we’ve seen it, it means we know we’re under attack. Better if they figure we don’t know we’re under attack. Because then they’ll figure they don’t need to be too careful next time. So we don’t react at all. We make out we haven’t been back here. We make out we haven’t seen the door. We carry on acting dumb and innocent. If they think we’re dumb and innocent, they’ll get careless. Easier to spot them coming next time.’
`OK,’ she said.
She didn’t sound convinced, but she was agreeing.
`So throw what you need into a bag,’ I said again.
She wasn’t happy, but she went off to gather up some stuff. The game was starting. I didn’t know exactly who the other players were. I didn’t even know exactly what the game was. But I knew how
to play. Opening move was I wanted them to feel like we were always one step behind.