Jason Frost - Badlands

She shook her head, unable to speak as his thumb dug deeper into her throat. "Don't… know," she finally croaked.

He released his grip.

Paige coughed twice and clutched her own throat, rubbing feeling back into it. "We argued," she explained. "I wanted to get back to the ship as quickly as possible and take off. He wanted to stay around here, try to get his son back."

Tim stood up.

Fallows's smile turned cruel. "Where is he now?"

"I don't know. I told him I wouldn't help him and we split up."

"He let you go, huh?" Fallows said skeptically. "Just like that?"

"He didn't want to," Paige said. "But his crossbow is no match for an HK 93."

Fallows studied her a moment. That ache inside, the animal that gnawed at his guts every time he thought of Eric Ravensmith, was at it again. Worse than ever. There was still time. Time enough to find Ravensmith and still get to the shuttle. If he knew where to look. "Where did you split up? Exactly."

Paige shrugged. "I don't know exactly. Not too far from the house with those, uh, kids."

"Yes, them. Creators of the New California Diet. Well, they won't be dining out anymore."

"You killed them?" Disbelief.

"Of course. It's not wise to leave enemies behind, especially here."

Paige looked into Tim's eyes, but he stared at her without any expression.

"Now, Dr. Lyons," Fallows said. "Once more. Exactly where did you leave Eric?"

"I told you where. I can't be more exact."

"Do you know what direction he took when he left you?"

"South, I think."

He shook his head. "Why do I have trouble believing you, Dr. Lyons?"

"I'm telling you the truth."

"Perhaps. But then again, perhaps not. Only one way to be sure." He slid his knife from the sheath. "Palmer, take her into the garage and tie her across the hood of the Rabbit."

Palmer grinned. "Like a deer, you mean?"

"Arms and legs spread."

He licked his lips. "Naked?"

"Naturally."

Palmer grabbed Paige's ponytail again and dug the HK 93 into her back.

"But I told you the truth," Paige pleaded.

"You probably did," Fallows agreed. "But a little pain will help convince me." He followed behind them, tapping his knife in the palm of his hand.

Eric listened to the screams as he cooked the last of the squirrel. The orange sky was draining into gray as the bright smear of the sun was replaced by the pale smear of the moon.

Another scream. Paige's husky voice stretched into a high shriek of horror.

He poked a stick at the squirrel brains as they cooked. They were not only edible, but they could be used to tan hides. That's what he liked about nature, it was so damned efficient. Nothing is wasted. The skin, tongue, heart, liver and kidneys-all edible. Even the cheek pads. The eyeballs contain a liquid that can be used for paints and dyes, or mixed with pitch to make a hard-setting glue. Behind the eyeball was a small piece of tasty fat.

Paige's scream pierced the air like a sonic boom.

And then there's the blood. Rich with iron, salts and other nutrients. Makes a good stew or soup.

He tore a chunk of cooked meat from the squirrel's rib. Some hunters claimed squirrel tasted like chicken or rabbit. It didn't. It was more exotic than that, as if it had been seasoned with rare herbs.

"God, please," Paige cried. Her sobs bounced along the deep crevice and into Eric's ears as he sat barely a quarter mile away from the Union 76 station. But on the other side of the ten-foot cleft. The crevice was even wider further north, spanning almost twenty feet at one point. About a mile south, where he and Paige had crossed on the way up and he had crossed a few hours ago, the rift in the earth disappeared completely. He'd looked over the edge earlier, but there was nothing to see but endless dark. He'd thrown a rock over, but he'd never heard it hit bottom.

Paige cried out again, her voice hoarse from abuse. It was a long scream this time, maybe ten seconds. Eric could imagine what Fallows was doing. He'd seen it all before.

But he wasn't thinking about that now as he pulled off another strip of squirrel meat. He wasn't thinking about Paige. He was thinking about Tim. About the look on his face when Fallows had shot Peter in the head. The lack of expression, the missing cry of outrage. Was this the same boy who'd once accused Eric of murder for overwatering the Boston fern? The same young face but with hollow eyes and an indifferent mouth. Eric wondered if he looked as dispassionate as his Tim had, as he sat there eating squirrel and listening to Paige's screams.

"You've got four hours," Fallows told them, his arm around Tim. "Four hours to track him down and bring him back to me."

"Alive?" Phelps asked.

"If possible."

The twelve men stood around Fallows checking their weapons. The torture of Paige Lyons hadn't taken more than fifteen or twenty minutes. She hadn't said anything new.

Fallows stooped down and drew a map in the dirt with his knife. Some of Paige's blood was still on the blade. "This ravine curves down here for another mile, then ends. Ravensmith could cross anywhere along here. It would take him too far out of his way to go any further south."

Palmer glanced over at the ravine that split the service station. "That's a ten-foot jump across, Colonel. Not to mention eight feet up. Only way to get to the other side from here would be to leap across and grab hold of the edge of the cliff there, then pull yourself up." He shook his head. "Hell of a chance."

"Believe me, one this man would take. Besides, the cliff levels out the further south you travel, so chances are he'll be down there somewhere, probably waiting for us to cross so he can start picking us off."

"With nothing but a fucking crossbow?" Phelps scoffed.

Fallows smiled. "How's he done so far?"

The men exchanged nervous glances.

"One other thing," Fallows said. "If you don't find him, don't come back. Ever."

"We'll find him, Colonel," Phelps said. "Don't worry."

Fallows turned around and guided Tim away.

"All right," Phelps snapped, "let's move out."

The men double-timed down the road, their heavy boots pounding like a team of horses.

Fallows deployed the remaining men to positions deeper in the woods. "Anything moves," he warned, "blast it. This is one time I don't care if you waste bullets."

Tim said, "What about her? The lady astronaut?"

Fallows looked over his shoulder into the darkening garage. Paige was still tied across the hood of the Rabbit. Her clothes lay in a pile next to the car. "What about her?"

"What are you going to do with her?"

"What do you think?"

"Kill her."

Fallows grinned. "Bingo. But not yet. Not until we see if my men can find good ole Eric. Besides, we might need her to bargain our way aboard the shuttle."

This was the first Tim had heard anything about going aboard the craft. "What do you mean?"

Fallows lowered his voice, even though he and Tim were the only ones left in camp. "I'm taking you out of here, kid. I mean off this crazy island." He walked over to the campfire they'd built on the far side of the garage.

Tim followed eagerly. "I don't get it."

"I told you before, Tim, the time would come when you'd see who really had your best interests at heart. Your dad wasn't able to protect your mom or sister. Or you. And for all his chest-beating, has he even come close to getting you back? Weren't we the ones who chased after him? Huh?"

Tim didn't say anything.

Fallows tossed a log onto the fire. Sparks burst up into a tiny fireworks display. "Come on, we'll get some more wood. We've got a four-hour wait."

They walked along the chewed-up pavement, gathering dried branches from the side of the road. Fallows spoke as they walked, his tone easy and caring, a stiff imitation of Eric's. "But when I promise something, Tim, I deliver. You and I are going to get off this island, courtesy of NASA."