TWO MOTORCYCLES CIRCLE THE OVERLOOK AND STOP AT THE brink. Jesse worms on his belly for a clear view. The bikes’ engines cough and die, and two bearded men—one tall, one short—step off the Harleys. Jesse’s heart freezes. Rovers. There’s a patch on the back of their jackets, a grinning skull with goat horns. A banner above it proclaims FIENDS, another below HELL. Jesse’s heard stories about the Fiends, rovers who travel in a pack, killing anyone, turned or unturned, who crosses them. Bad news all around.
Johona creeps over to lie beside him.
“Biker trash,” she says.
The shorter Fiend takes a sack out of a saddlebag on his bike, and he and the other start down a path that ends at the bones of a cabin on a ledge below the outlook. Jesse can just make out the crumbling structure from where he and Johona are hiding.
Edgar, back at the boulder they were sitting on, stands to look at the bikers too.
“Rovers!” he says.
“Get down,” Jesse whispers.
It’d be too risky to try to sneak back to where the car is hidden. Better to lie low and wait until the Fiends leave. “We’ll sit tight—” Jesse begins but is interrupted by the piercing cry of an infant in distress.
The Fiends halt on the trail. There’s a baby in the sack they’re carrying. They discuss how to quiet it, and when one threatens to stomp it, Johona gasps. The infant settles, and the bikers continue their descent.
Johona asks what they’re doing with a baby. Jesse says he doesn’t know, but he’s pretty sure he does.
The Fiends reach the cabin and slip from view inside it.
“Maybe they’re devil worshippers,” Johona says.
The bikers reappear behind the cabin and pass a bottle. Jesse hears a rustle and turns to find Edgar on his feet again. “Those sonsofbitches are gonna do us in,” he says and sets off for the car at a run. Jesse throws an arm around his neck and drags him to his knees. Edgar twists and turns, trying to free himself, extra strong because he’s scared.
“Easy,” Jesse croons. “Easy.”
His brother bucks a few more times, then collapses, breathing hard. Jesse strokes him like he would a spooked horse.
“We’re safe up here,” he says. “All you have to do is keep quiet.”
“Give them the girl,” Edgar says.
“We’re not giving them the girl,” Jesse says. He spies a small cave at the base of the boulder, a niche barely visible behind a creosote bush.
“Look,” he says. “An Indian hideout.”
Edgar lifts his head, intrigued.
“They’ll never find you in there.”
Edgar crawls to the cave and backs into it.
“Can you see me?” he says.
“Not a hair,” Jesse says.
“There’s room for you.”
“I’ll keep watch. Soon as it’s clear, I’ll come for you.”
When Jesse gets back to where he left Johona, she’s gone. He spots movement below, on the overlook. The girl is sneaking toward the trail that leads to the cabin. The Fiends are still on the ledge behind the ruin. One of them has a gun.
The baby starts crying again as Jesse races down to retrieve Johona. She’s crouched at the edge of the overlook, straining to make out what’s happening below, but the cabin blocks the Fiends from view. She flinches, startled, when Jesse appears out of the darkness and kneels beside her. “Come with me,” he whispers, but then the click of a revolver’s hammer on an empty chamber rings out. He and Johona watch the cabin, holding their breaths. One of the Fiends yells “Goddammit,” and another click rebounds off the surrounding hills.
Jesse’s worried. He and Johona are on the path the Fiends will use to return to their Harleys, and they’ll see them as soon as they leave the cabin. He needs to move the girl now, while the bikers are occupied. He tugs her arm, but she frowns and pulls away.
“The baby,” she says.
A gun goes off, making them both jump. The child stops bawling mid-wail.
“Oh, my God,” Johona says.
What Jesse sees is Claudine. Claudine confused, Claudine terrified. He flashes back to her final moments, and when Johona jumps up and starts down the trail to the cabin, he follows without hesitation, thinking only that she’ll not die in front of him like Claudine did.
They’re completely exposed on the mountainside, no cover at all, and flying blind, their view of the Fiends still obstructed by the cabin. Jesse catches up to Johona. Me first, he mouths, and squeezes past her to take the lead. She rests a hand on his shoulder to steady herself, and he goes as slowly as he dares.
They take cover behind a stunted palo verde tree when they reach the ledge. The baby cries again, the wails coming from inside the cabin. Jesse sees the shorter, stockier Fiend through a gap in the wall, facing away from them. There’s no sign of the tall one. Jesse twists to look over his shoulder, worried he might be creeping up on them, but the only thing moving is a sheet of plastic caught on a rock.
He turns back to find Johona crawling across the open ground between the palo verde and the cabin. He starts after her, then thinks better of it, staying hidden and keeping an eye on the Fiend out back instead. Johona pauses when she reaches the doorway. Jesse waves for her to return, but she shakes her head and continues into the cabin. The next thing Jesse knows, he’s in the doorway, watching her grope for the baby in the darkness. He sees where the child is lying, still closed up in the sack, but doesn’t dare risk directing Johona to it, not with the shorter Fiend ten feet beyond, grinning down at the body of his companion on the ground beside him.
“You lose, motherfucker,” the shorter Fiend says as the taller one sits up and shakes his head.
Jesse wonders whether he should grab Johona and flee or rush the bikers. The choice is made for him when Johona finds the sack, snatches it up, and crawls back toward the door.
The short Fiend pulls a knife. “To the victor go the spoils.”
Jesse yanks Johona to her feet and hurries her to the palo verde. They drop behind it as the Fiend enters the cabin. Finding the sack missing, he yells, “Where’s the kid?” Any second now, he’ll spot them. The best Jesse can do is give Johona a fighting chance.
“Go,” he says.
She hugs the sack and runs up the trail toward the overlook. The shorter Fiend sees this and starts after her. Jesse pops the blade of the stiletto he carries. He covers the yard of the cabin in two leaps, ducks when the Fiend slashes with his knife, and plants the stiletto in the biker’s barrel chest, leaving it there when the man sinks to his knees and flops onto his back.
The tall Fiend staggers through the cabin, brandishing his own knife. Jesse blocks an overhead stab and punches him in the face. The biker’s legs wobble. Jesse hits him again. He drops his knife, and Jesse dives for it. The man is too quick. He falls on the blade, covering it with his body.
Jesse tries to roll him over, but he grabs Jesse’s hand, twists it, and snaps a bone in his wrist. The pain makes Jesse woozy. He runs out the door, stepping over the shorter biker’s body. Johona is halfway to the overlook when he catches her. He takes her arm and forces her to speed up.
The tall Fiend is on his feet. He recovers his knife and steps outside the cabin, where he sees Jesse and Johona scrambling up the mountain. He bends over his partner and pulls Jesse’s stiletto out of him before giving chase.
Jesse and Johona near the overlook, the tall Fiend closing on them. Jesse hands Johona the keys to the Grand Prix, meaning to stand and fight. Even if he goes down, he might hold the bikers off long enough for the girl to escape.
“Get to the car and go,” he says. “Don’t stop, don’t look back.”
Johona continues up the trail as Jesse picks up a rock and turns to face the tall Fiend’s attack. He’s smaller than the man, lighter, and he hopes faster. The biker’s knife flashes like a shooting star as he raises it, running full tilt.
Jesse fakes like he’s going to meet the man upright but ducks in the instant before the Fiend crashes into him and jams his shoulder into his belly. All the wind goes out of the biker, and he doubles over. Jesse brings the rock down on the back of his head, hitting him again and again until he feels the man’s skull give way.
Somehow managing to keep standing, the biker staggers backward. Jesse rushes him, only to run into a whistling haymaker that smashes into his temple and sends him to the ground cockeyed, ears ringing. The Fiend lifts his knife, but as he’s about to bring it down, his eyes roll back, and he topples, the blows from the rock finally taking their toll.
Jesse looks toward the cabin. The shorter Fiend has healed enough to sit. He spies Jesse, struggles to his feet, and stumbles to the trail. Defying dizziness and pain, Jesse grabs the taller Fiend’s blade. He tilts the man’s head back to expose his throat and begins to saw. Blood spurts, slicking the handle of the knife. Jesse tightens his grip and keeps cutting. Soon all that’s keeping the head attached is the spine. Jesse wedges the knife between two vertebrae, bears down, and twists the head free. He’s startled when the man turns to ash. He knew it would happen, but he’s never dusted a rover before.
The shorter Fiend is coming quickly up the trail. Jesse dashes the last fifty feet to level ground and turns with the dusted biker’s knife in his hand. The shorter Fiend plows into him like a bull before he can get set. He goes flying and lands hard but pops up ready to fight. The Fiend spits as he approaches. He’s smaller than the dusted one, but beefier and has a bigger knife. He tosses it in the air and catches it by the handle, showing off. There’s a grin on his face, but his eyes are rage-fueled furnaces.
“Greetings, brother,” he says, sarcastic. “How long have you been tailing us?”
“I’ve never seen you before,” Jesse says.
“Bullshit.”
“It’s the truth.”
“Were you stealing the kid to feed on, or were you trying to save it?”
“Does it matter?”
“No. No it doesn’t.”
Everything inside Jesse wants to run, but he goes into a crouch and cocks his knife arm. The Fiend charges, aiming to bowl him over again. Jesse drops and rolls out of his path. As he passes, Jesse slashes one of his calves to the bone. The man stumbles but regains his balance. He shuffles sideways, circling Jesse, stalling while the wound mends. Jesse turns to keep him in front of him.
He spots an opening, darts in, feints right, goes left, and stabs the Fiend in the side. The Fiend strikes at the same time, jabbing his knife into Jesse’s upper back, the blade puncturing one of Jesse’s lungs. Jesse lurches out of reach, coughing blood. The Fiend limps toward him, but Jesse can’t work up the momentum to run. Every time he moves, it’s like he’s being stabbed again.
He waves his knife. The Fiend slaps it away and raises his own blade. Jesse bows his head to await the strike, but it doesn’t come. The Fiend grunts, and Jesse looks up to see that Edgar—twice as big as the biker and twice as strong—has him in a chokehold.
“Don’t let go,” Jesse says.
He picks up his knife and dashes toward Edgar and the Fiend. His haste makes him careless. The Fiend lifts both feet off the ground and, supported by Edgar, kicks with all his might. Jesse takes the blow in the stomach and falls backward.
The Fiend turns his attention to Edgar, stabbing blindly over his shoulder. Edgar bellows in pain but keeps choking him. The biker weakens, can’t keep his knife up. The blade slips from his fingers, and he sags in Edgar’s arms.
Jesse runs at him again. His thrust is deflected by a rib, though, and with a final, desperate spasm, the Fiend snaps his head back and slams his skull into Edgar’s face. Edgar releases the biker and presses his hands to his broken, gushing nose.
The Fiend pauses—panting, thinking—then says, “You know you’re a dead man, don’t you? Wherever you go, we’ll find you.” He turns and bolts for the edge of the overlook. Running full speed, he hurls himself off the precipice.
Jesse, right behind, pulls up short. The Fiend soars briefly out into the night, a black angel bound for the stars, before falling. He slams into the mountain two hundred feet below and tumbles another hundred before finally skidding to a stop, a bloody sack of broken bones and ruptured guts.
There’s no easy way down to where he is to finish him off, so Jesse decides to flee. Edgar moans when he crouches beside him.
“You all right?”
“I got blood all on my shirt.”
“I’ll get you a new one.”
“Mickey Mouse?”
“Whatever you want. You did good, buddy.”
Johona watches wide-eyed from the thicket where the Grand Prix is hidden. The baby, freed from the sack, sucks one of her fingers.
“Get in the car,” Jesse calls to her, but she doesn’t move.
He tells Edgar to come with him. They walk to the Fiends’ motorcycles. He takes hold of one and has Edgar grab the other. They roll them to the edge of the overlook and push them off, sending them crashing down the side of the mountain. Edgar whoops and pounds his chest like a gorilla. Jesse hurries him to the car.
Johona backs away as they approach. She’s just watched Jesse cut off a man’s head and seen that man disappear. “Please don’t hurt me,” she says.
“I’m trying to save your life,” Jesse replies.
“I want to get out of here.”
“So do I. And I want to get the baby out of here, too. So let’s go.”
Johona moves cautiously to the Grand Prix, keeping plenty of distance between her and the brothers. She slides into the back seat, and Jesse gets behind the wheel. Edgar climbs in on the passenger side. Checking constantly for more Fiends, Jesse backs out of the thicket, squeals onto the road, and races down the mountain.