The purple walkie-talkie chirped once and then a familiar voice said, “The dogs are approaching the kennel. I repeat, the dogs are approaching the kennel.”
A second voice broke in, somewhat softer but definitely irritated, and said, “Stop fucking around with that and give it here, you—”
Dogs barked in the background. And then continued to bark somewhere on the other side of the house. A big car, maybe two, pulled up on the street. A door slammed. Another two doors followed, almost on top of each other. The dogs went crazy, howling now like crazed women.
Butthole grinned. “Ready for the greatest show on earth?”
“Jesus fuck,” Hayes said.
“That’s right,” Butthole said, “Jesus fuck.”
“I knew there were more, Lynn. I told you.” Logan nodded his head, pleased about this for reasons only known to him.
I tried to hush him with my eyes.
Metal rattled and clunked on the other side of the house. The sounds the dogs made changed, their voices quieter but more intense. Butthole stood up and turned toward the carport. I knew I had to move. My mom craned her neck to watch me. Three steps, two seconds. I slipped the knife out of my waistband and put it into Logan’s hands while I hugged him. For whatever reason, Butthole hadn’t made his bindings as tight as the others. His hands had a little play.
“You know what to do,” I whispered against his neck, having absolutely no idea myself.
“I won’t let them,” Logan said. His eyes shined. He smiled.
I kissed him on the mouth.
“Hey, now,” Butthole shouted, all the jolly out of his voice, “none of that shit.”
“I just wanted—”
“Sit your ass down. Don’t make me—”
“Leon,” someone yelled, all hale and man-friendly, “I knew you’d wrap this shit up. ’Bout fucking time, too.” It was that bastard Marty. But I’d known all along he’d come, even if I hadn’t thought it outright.
“Yup,” Butthole said.
Marty came striding around the corner of the house and looked for a moment as though he might wrap Butthole in a bear hug and then thought better of it. Instead, he brought his hands together in a porkchop clap to give him an excuse for the silly gesture. The man looked even bigger than I remembered. Fat, yes, fat as hell, but with a broad back and big arm muscles underneath all that padding. A few steps behind him, four or five dogs strained against leashes. With all their jumping and yipping, I couldn’t keep them straight. They pulled my old friend Travis so hard he slipped and nearly wiped out coming around the corner. Burns trailed behind, hands stuffed in the pockets of his bomber jacket. A drop of rain hit my arm, but none followed.
“Hey, Leon.” Burns waved a hand, wearing a grin so wide and tight it nearly split his lips at the corners.
“If you ever call me that again, I’ll cut your dick off and make you eat it,” Butthole said.
Travis laughed.
“You neither.” Butthole pointed his purple walkie-talkie at him. In his hand, it looked like something vicious.
“Don’t worry about them, but—” Marty frowned and pointed at Logan. “Who the fuck is that one?”
“Come here, chief.” Butthole led him around the corner into the shadow of the carport.
“I’m glad we ate,” Travis said, speaking over his shoulder at Burns. “This looks to be a long one.” The dogs yanked so hard he slid a couple of feet in the damp grass. Those dogs looked like they were fixing to eat us.
“Nah,” Burns said, sitting on the porch chair so hard it screeched and shed flakes of rust, “he’ll fold up faster than that little girl. We’ll be out of here in under an hour. Tops. Look at him over there. He’s crying.”
“Fuck you,” Hayes said, but it sounded more like a question than a curse. And the man was right about the tears.
Burns jerked forward in the chair with his arms spread boogeyman-style, playing like he was coming to get him. Hayes flinched away so hard my mom let out a little gasp of pain. She muttered something to him. Hayes hung his head and stared at their feet.
“See what I mean?” Burns said.
“Hey, Hayes. H.K. got drunk and accidentally ate your finger.” Travis giggled.
“Shut up,” Burns told him. “That’s stupid.”
“Well, he almost did. That’s what Benny said.”
Burns shook his head.
“New plan,” Marty shouted, rubbing his palms together as he marched around the corner. “Come over here. Leon’ll fill you in.”
“He’s the one, ain’t he? That fat one. The one who came over the other day,” Logan said, voice raspy and tense.
“Yeah,” I said, trying not to move my lips because Marty stared at me as he came across the yard.
“Alright, then.” Logan nodded his head. “Alright.”
“You!” Marty bellowed, pointing a finger in my direction. “With me. We got some things to discuss.”
“Leave her the fuck alone!” Logan yelled, spittle flying with the words.
Marty paid no mind. He stooped over and pulled me to my feet by the crook of my elbow. Halfway to the kitchen door, my mom made a noise and he stopped to look at her.
When the time comes, I’ve got to move, I told myself. No matter what.
“Please,” my mom said, her voice ragged and pitiful, “let her go. She ain’t got nothing to do with this.”
“That depends on you, ma’am. I don’t get any pleasure out of hurting little girls,” Marty said.
“Bullshit,” Logan said.
Marty glared at him for a long moment. Then he dragged me into the house. All the time I worried about what he meant to do with those dogs. The dogs themselves seemed to know. Their joyful, angry barks told me they were ready to go and happy to do it. What’s the holdup? they barked to Travis, who had a hell of a time holding onto them. We’re ready to eat these people now!
As Marty closed the kitchen door, I heard my mom ask a question and Logan answer.