Robert Moore - Hard guys and hostages

Pete was standing exactly where they had left him, except that he had put a foot on Connie's ass. He held her planted to the ground and Connie lay still as though unaware of it. But her eyes were open, and Julie could see that she hadn't sunk back into her former torpor.

"Smartass here tried to part my hair with a scythe," Max said to Pete. "Let's get 'em all inside. I don't like to leave the man of the house alone too long."

Julie walked ahead of the others, with Sally behind her and slightly to one side. Pete kept ramming his pistol butt into the small of Connie's back, to keep her moving. Connie was crying, as was Sally, but they offered no more resistance. For the moment, they seemed to have learned their lesson. It had been a singularly costly lesson. They weren't likely to win the men's trust again soon, and the loss of one of the men meant that they could get along with one less woman.

"All right," Max said when they were back in the kitchen. "Which of you dames killed him." He pointed to the huge corpse in the middle of the floor. Blood had already begun to congeal on the worn linoleum. He asked the question of them all, not looking directly at any of them. None of the women said anything. "I'm not going to fuck with you," he said. The rifle leveled at the wall between Julie and Sally. "Now, I won't mention any names, but if I don't get some answers starting right now, I plan to gun one of you down in just one and a half seconds."

"She did it," Julie said, pointing to Connie. "She got the shotgun from where it was leaning against the wall and killed Butch while he was on me."

"Serves the son of a bitch right," Pete mumbled. "That's what he gets for fucking somebody else's woman. He had his own woman, and if he'd fucked her, she wouldn't have been able to get at the gun. Besides, he was supposed to be guardin' the women, not playing grab-ass."

"That's beside the point." Max swung the muzzle of the rifle about, bringing it to bear on Connie. The girl's eyes went wide as saucers, and she drew back against the wall.

"Yeah?" Pete asked quietly. "Well, just what is the point, Max?"

"The point is we can't afford to let this little cunt get away with something like that. If we do, she'll do it again. And so will the others. They'll have everything to gain and nothing at all to lose. That's the point."

"Butch was stupid. We ain't gonna be that stupid. She won't get another chance like that."

"You're fucking right she won't. Because I plan to put a thirty caliber slug through her lower intestinal tract before she does."

"Just a minute, Max." Pete's voice was low and businesslike. "I don't like the idea of killin' her."

"Are you kidding? You were the one who wanted to kill that guy in the living room just a few hours ago, as I recall. How come the big change?"

"I'm still for killin' him. But I let you have your way that time. I'm not for killing a woman, though."

"I didn't know you had scruples like that, Pete."

"Don't talk like an asshole. I'll kill her myself when the time comes, it won't bother me none, and when she's still some good to us. We got three dames to two men now. That's good. That means we got an extra, and we can trade around. This place is loaded with food. And when that's gone there's a lot of animals to kill. We can stay holed up here for four, five months if we want to, and I think that's the smart thing to do."

"All right. What's that got to do with this little twat?"

"I don't see any reason to make the place less pleasant to live in while we're here. If you want to kill her when we leave, that's fine with me. And if you want to beat the piss out of her to teach her a lesson, I'll hold her still for you. But I don't see why we should kill her. That don't make sense. Not now."

"Shit, we have two women, and there are two of us. Why do we need an extra?"

"Let's just say I'm a pig. I like more than I need. Besides, you told me outside that this one," and he pointed at Sally, "tried to kill you with a scythe. You want to kill her, too? Then we'll have only one woman. And she'll be my woman. Remember? You're the one who traded her to me for the young stuff. I don't see nothing wrong with keeping a spare handy. We might have to kill one of the others later on, if they try to escape again."

"For Christ's sake, Pete, talk sense will you? We have to teach these other cunts a lesson, and this is how we do it. If you get out of line, you get a fresh hole blown in you."

"I just don't agree, Max." Pete handled his pistol meaningfully. Julie felt her blood run cold in her veins. This was something very dangerous now. Pete hadn't really made anything out of the disagreement yet. But he had left it up to Max to make something out of it if he wanted to. Max looked at him for a long time, and Julie had the feeling that the whole matter was riding on the question of whether he felt he could bring his rifle to bear before Pete could fire his pistol. It would be close, she thought. "Like I said, Max, I gave you your way about Farmer John in there. Now I think it's time you gave me my way on somethin'. What do you say?"

Max looked at him for a moment longer, then shrugged and lowered his rifle's muzzle to the floor. Connie gave a scream of relief and fell to the floor, sobbing.

"You want her so bad, why don't you take her to bed right now?" Max spat disgustedly.

"Why not?" Pete walked forward and grabbed Connie's arm. She came to her feet without hesitation, ready to do what he wanted.

"Before you take your little lovebird away, help me tie up the others," Max said. "I don't want something like this happening again."

Julie let herself be led to a chair and tied in it. Max yanked her arms behind her and fastened her wrists together firmly, then tied one of her ankles to each of the chair's legs. Her robe fell away from her body, draping down on either side of the chair.

With Sally he had a different idea. Pete stood by covering Connie while Max tied the two women. When he was finished with Julie he pulled Sally over to the sink and tied her feet together. He tied the other end of the rope to the pipes under the sink, then fastened her wrists behind her back with another piece of line. He tied the opposite end of that piece to one of the taps, tying a half dozen knots to keep it from slipping. It left Sally in an uncomfortable position, her shoulders pulled back and her knees slightly bent because the length of the rope on her wrists wouldn't allow her to stand upright.

"A few hours in that position and maybe you won't be so eager to pick up a scythe," Max said. He pinched her cheek hard, making her cry out from the pain. "Okay," he said. "You take your little slit into the bedroom now, Pete. I'll go check to make sure Farmer Brown is all nice and snug." The two men left the kitchen.

Sally looked over at Julie. She had to throw her head back to clear her hair from her face. "Why?" she asked cryptically, and then, after a moment's pause, "Why did you do it, Sis? I could have killed him. We could have been rid of them all, maybe, if you hadn't warned him. And then squealing on Connie like that. Why?"

"If I'd let you swing on him with that scythe you might have killed him and you might not," Julie said.

"Well, it was a pretty good bet. And even if the first swing hadn't killed him, he never would have been able to hurt us. I'd have fouled him up pretty good, wouldn't I?"

"Is that all you can think of? What about how you would have fouled us up?"

"I don't know what you're talking about. There would have been just one of them left if I'd killed Max."

"That one alone could more than handle us. Now you know that if you'll just think about it sensibly, Sally. He was out there with Connie, and he had a gun. Two guns."

"A pistol and a shotgun. Neither of them would have been much of a threat to us in that barn. And we would have had Max's rifle."