The one called Harshaw woke up and instantly started cursing, so Zeke stuffed a rag into his mouth and tied it in place. They hauled the four men back to a clearing some dozen or so paces off the road, then lashed the four to trees using the Greers’ own rope. Kevin sat on a rotting log while Caleb lit a lantern they found in one pack and Zeke tested all the bonds. The older son, the one Kevin had knifed and struck, moaned softly but did not wake up. The other son remained limp, his breathing shallow.
Kevin tried to steel himself against what was coming. But the night’s events seemed scripted to him, right down to the revulsion in his gut. He told his new friends, “I know these three. Matter of fact, I arrested them. Twice.”
“And both times the militia’s sprung us.” Old Man Greer sneered. “What do you think is gonna happen when Hollis hears about this?”
Caleb set the lantern on a stump between them and the captives. “What did you arrest them for?”
“Mostly they prey on refugees. They hunt out the pretty women—the younger, the better. Feed them to the hotels the militia run. Least, they’re called hotels.”
Old Man Greer wrestled with his bonds. “Boy, you are looking at trouble you can’t even . . .”
Zeke darted in from beyond the lantern’s reach, a swift dancing motion. The old man sagged against his ropes.
Kevin asked, “Did you kill him?”
Zeke moved back far enough to mask his response from the captives. His blade was clean.
But Harshaw did not know this. He started huffing hard against his gag. His eyes looked ready to pop right out of his head. Kevin walked over and squatted down. His knife rested on the man’s thigh. “I’m going to give you the same choice I gave the bounty hunter. Nod if you understand me.”
When Harshaw jerked his head, Kevin cut the tie and pulled the rag from his mouth. Harshaw coughed and drew a few hard breaths, then gasped, “You done killed that man!”
From behind him, Caleb demanded, “What were you planning on doing to me?”
“Hey, boy. I didn’t mean nothing by that!” His face was greasy-slick in the lantern light. “Come on now, cut me . . .”
Kevin held the blade directly before his eyes. “I ask, you answer. That’s how it’s going to be. Now tell me how you hooked up with the Greers.”
“I seen them around. I used to cart shine into the township. But . . .”
Caleb finished, “He got drunk on his own product, started a fight, spent a month in the lockup, and was banished from Charlotte and Overpass both.”
Kevin wondered if he’d come across the man before. “Go on.”
“They came looking for me. Said there was a bounty on you and your ma.”
“How much?”
“A hundred silver bars.”
Kevin rocked back. Caleb said, “What?”
“I didn’t believe it either. They showed me the paper. Hundred bars, but only if they brought you in alive. Somebody told them you’d been seen riding off in this direction.”
“Just like you suspected,” Zeke said.
Now that Harshaw was talking, the words tumbled out. “Me and some of the boys were ready to jump all over that. But Greer said they only wanted me.”
When he stopped, Kevin pressed, “Tell us the rest.”
“The old man said there was another bounty on the boy. Not him directly. His kind.” Harshaw swallowed hard.
“How much?” Zeke asked.
“Fifty silver bars for any what can do like him. I done seen that paper too.” Harshaw’s neck trembled as he searched out Caleb. His gullet jumped as he forced down a swallow. His voice raised a full octave. “Two quarter shares would set me up for life. It’s the only reason I hooked up with them Greers.”
Kevin knew it was time to end it. But his knife suddenly weighed a thousand pounds. He could not raise it from his knee. He tried to force himself to act. The strain caused him to pant softly.
Harshaw must have seen his struggle, for his voice rose to a high-pitched whine. “I done answered your questions. Now you got to let me . . .”
Zeke darted in, shockingly swift. The hilt of his knife came down hard on the back of Harshaw’s head. His eyes fluttered, then he slumped over. Zeke was already moving toward the two others.