| |
At the first terrible verse, Nigel's head jerked up, and Devi swore again. Between them, arms crossed on his bloody chest, Monty's eyes squeezed shut.
"It's a distraction," Devi whispered.
"The truck's full of dynamite—"Nigel began, and she finished, "He's about to blow us up."
Monty's lips moved, then he managed, "Get out."
Smitty's voice approached, getting louder. "Make him bleed out on a two-bit hooker, make him bleed out—"
Nigel felt some grudging admiration for the man's creativity.
With a thud of boots, Smitty landed on the deck overhead. Devi's fist clenched, her head bowed. From above, Smitty could readily take pick them off, regardless which exit they chose to employ. They sat trapped like rabbits in a warren, penned by the dogs.
Devi caught Nigel's shoulder, pulling him closer, her lips to his ear. "If Gator's going for the truck, he's distracted, cutting north and west. You copy?"
"Yes."
"I go starboard, get Smitty's attention, you break to port and make for the hills."
"I can't simply—"
She pushed him back. "Yes, you can." Her gaze dropped to Monty. "I can get Smitty's gun, or Flick's. I can take out Gator. Don't die. Either of you."
Monty gave no answer, but he swallowed. All too easy to imagine the blood that flavored his mouth.
She was already creeping past Nigel, agile as a cat. "Nigel. Get out. Take cover."
Easing down to the narrow space at Monty's side, Nigel made sure to take his weight on his arm. The pain flared, and the bit of light showed a stain of blood on his torn sleeve. Nothing to what Monty suffered.
"You weren't there," Nigel said, "when they killed Joe."
Monty's brows crumpled, his eyes flaring open. He groped toward Nigel, who seized his hand.
"I know you're not without sin," Nigel murmured, "but you didn't cast that stone." Tears sheened the downed man's eyes, or so Nigel thought. He was suddenly blinking rather hard himself.
Overhead, Smitty's terrible song went on, then changed direction. He must've spotted Devi. Nigel had to go, and he had no way to bring Monty with him, no way to save him if Devi's plan failed.
He shifted, and the camera at his belt snagged a shard of wood. Nigel pulled it free the clip and pressed it into Monty's bloody hand. "Keep this for me. I'll be back."
Monty offered a bent smile, the camera clutched in his bloody hand like a talisman.
Smitty gave a sharp whistle, then bullets flew, and Nigel dove out the gap in the hull toward freedom.
––––––––
