Matt Hilton: Slash and burn

'It wasn't the Ballard bitch, then?'

'Nope. Some other bitch. Guy with her shot Tom and Richie, but the woman was also armed. The boys on the pick-up had to take cover when she opened up on them.'

'So where are the assholes now?'

'Following the couple this way.'

'Get back on the radio,' Larry said. 'Tell them not to get too close. We'll deal with this.'

Trent grinned as he picked up the handset. 'Do we get to keep the woman alive for a little while, Larry?'

'Don't see why not. It's Imogen Ballard that Huffman wants. Can't see why we can't have a little fun with any other bitch that throws herself into our laps.'

Larry buzzed down the window. Leaning out, he could hear the sounds of engines on the trail above. The acoustics of the canyon made it difficult to identify how close the approaching vehicles were, but he guessed that any minute now the fun would start. As he stepped out of the truck the chassis rose by a few inches. He lifted the Magnum and stalked forwards. Behind him he heard his little brother get out the truck and follow. Trent racked a shotgun – nothing smaller than the shotgun felt worthy in his huge hands.

'We'll take them as they come through the pass,' Larry said. 'The guy's driving, right?'

'Right.'

'So make sure you shoot for him. The bitch ain't gonna be much good to us with a face full of lead.'

'Ain't her face I'm interested in.'

Larry glanced at his brother. Rape he could go along with – it wasn't as if he hadn't tasted a little unwilling flesh in his time – but Trent's suggestion wasn't something that sat well with him. Of course, his little brother probably wasn't suggesting that they rape a woman with her actual face shot off, but then again, who knew? There was something decidedly unhealthy going on in that mind of Trent's, and it was more than just the crazy gleam of his wall-eye that told Larry so; the ear that Trent had cut off William Devaney and now kept on his key chain had a little to do with it too.

Larry thumbed back the hammer on his Magnum. Momentarily he considered putting a bullet through his brother's brainpan. A mercy killing. His brother was getting to be a problem that maybe even Robert Huffman's money couldn't save them from.

He turned back towards the two boulders encroaching on the road. Let Trent have his crazy thoughts, he decided. They didn't harm anyone who wasn't in need of harming. Plus, that ear thing? Well, William Devaney didn't need it any more. There wasn't much to listen to in his unmarked grave up in the wilderness beyond Great Wells waterfall.

The sounds of approaching engines made a steady rumble now. Larry could even hear the catcalls of the stupid rednecks pushing the strangers towards the trap. Shots were fired. He gritted his teeth. 'Those motherfuckers better not get them first.'

'Only thing those assholes are capable of is getting themselves shot,' Trent said as he stomped across to the other side of the trail. 'In fact, after this, I think we're gonna have to smack a few heads, just to straighten them out a bit. What do you say, big bro?'

'Sounds good to me.'

'That's the only problem with shooting people if you ask me. Way too fast. I'd prefer to smash this asshole first.'

'I hear you, Trent, but we can't be takin' any chances. Whoever this dude is, he knows how to shoot. We have to take him out… first possible opportunity.'

'Heads up, then, bro,' Trent said as he lifted his shotgun. 'Sounds like he's almost here.'

Larry heard the vehicle coming. He thought that the timbre of the engine changed, as though slowing, but that could have been to do with the way the sound reverberated off the two boulders forming the pass. He saw headlights on the rock on the right, and now the engine of the approaching 4?4 definitely did sound like the foot had been taken off the throttle. Made sense, he thought, as the guy approached the narrow pass. It was why he'd chosen the spot for the ambush, allowing them to shoot the driver when he had to slow down to negotiate the narrow road and the tight curve that followed.

He lifted the gun in anticipation. Took a step forwards.

There it was. The blocky shape of a Ford Explorer, exiting the gap between the boulders. The headlights were flicked to full beam and Larry had to scrunch his eyes against the glare, but it didn't hinder him none. He knew exactly where the driver would be. He fired his handgun and it bucked in his hand. Purposely he aimed through the driver's side, allowing the gun to dip in line with the top of the steering wheel; just where a ducking man's head would be.

Across from him, Trent opened up with the shotgun. He fired one load into the driver's side, then followed it immediately by sending his second load into a front tyre.

The Ford dipped as the tyre exploded, then it swerved, but continued moving. The cant of the road sent the swerving 4?4 past Larry. As it did so he fired another shot into the cab. If it hit the woman, so what? She was going to die anyway, and if that meant he wouldn't be getting his rocks off tonight, then so be it. There was plenty pussy back in town for the taking. Trent could have the bitch all to himself!

Larry steadied his Magnum for a third shot, but it was unnecessary. The Ford slewed off the trail and into a ditch and then slammed into the trunk of a tree with such force that the top of the tree swayed like it was in the middle of a hurricane. Pine needles rattled down all around Larry and he had to brush some out of his spiky hair. He looked for Trent, and his brother was already crabbing across the trail with his shotgun held to his shoulder.

'You get the woman, Trent. I'm gonna make sure the asshole's dead,' Larry said.

'Watch how you go, big bro,' Trent said, a show of concern that Larry found touching. And to think he'd considered shooting his brother only moments before! He winked at Trent, flashed him a grin.

Then he moved to the driver's door and leaned in through the open window. When he glanced up, Trent's quizzical face was framed in the opposite window.

They stared at each other across the empty seats.

'Where the fuck did they go, Larry?'

Kate's revelation rocked me more than the collision with the SUV up the trail had.

She was a cop?

And she'd come looking for me to help find her sister?

Surely she understood that I didn't work from any law and order rule book. In fact I'm notorious for working outside the boundaries of the law – it's why I've survived the things I have. It's why some people have labelled me a vigilante, and others have even seen me as a hit man. In my opinion I'm neither, but what good is that when weighed against the opinions of thousands?

'You should've told me that you're a cop.'

'If I had, would you have still helped me?'

I gripped the steering wheel, setting my jaw.

'Would you have refused me, Joe?'

Not really sure what I was mad about, I snapped angry eyes on her and grunted, 'Of course I'd have helped. Just…'

'Just in a different way?'

Snorting, I down-geared, traversing a particularly steep drop of the hill.

Kate said, 'Would you have been so quick to shoot those men if you knew a cop was beside you?'

'Like I said, they were too close to miss.'

It was Kate's turn to snort. 'What do you think I'm going to do, Joe? Arrest you?'

'It just makes my job more difficult, that's all.'

'How? We both want the same thing, don't we? We both want to find Imogen.'

Sending the Explorer round a bend in the trail, I looked across at her. She looked mad, too. But her anger seemed to be directed not at me but inwards, like she was berating herself for letting her identity slip.

'There are things that I have to do, Kate, things that don't fit the sensibilities of most people. Sometimes I have to kill, yes, but I've never killed anyone who wasn't trying to kill me or wasn't hurting someone else. If that doesn't sit too well with you, I'll take you back to Little Fork and you can get a flight back home. We'll call it quits.'