“I did!” The irresponsible brother lifted his hands in a surrender gesture. “It’s her.” He pointed at me. “She sent a curse out! I saw her mouth moving.”
This bunch was an intelligent one. I rolled my eyes, or thought I did. They felt frozen in their sockets. My mouth was moving because my teeth were chattering.
Rattler’s eyes came back to mine. He narrowed them at me. Swirled the hay around.
One of the brothers peeked his head around the barn door. “Something is scaring ’em. They’re not far off. They’re panicked. They’re going to tear this place down in a rush.”
Rattler kept his dark stare on me. It was colder and more dangerous than the snake’s had been. He had thoughts behind his.
He cleared his throat. “Say hello to your brother for us, will you, Watt? He often forgets to watch his back when he’s busy.”
The herd of cattle had reached us. I could hear them hitting the barn to get away from whatever they were running from. The brothers left in haste. Probably going to try to get their herd back.
Atta sat there, her eyes dazed, her lips and skin blue, not able to move. I had more energy since I had not been without proper clothing as long as she had been.
“Atta, listen to me.” I took careful movements to reach our pile of clothes. I gasped and fell back when the rattlesnake slithered out of a jacket, hiding in the hay again.
“Leave them,” Atta barely got out.
I nodded, wrapped my arms around her shoulders, and we heaved ourselves up, using the wall as a solid foundation. I could still hear thumps of the cattle that were reckless in their escape.
We took careful steps out of the barn, careful and slow, until we both saw the truck, a beacon with its lights still on, and moved as fast as we could. We were like cattle ourselves, running from predators.
No, not cattle—bison.
I had to help Atta into the truck, and instead of rushing to the driver’s side, I slipped in next to her. The truck was dented, the windshield broken. The bison had hit it hard enough to make it look as if it had been in an accident.
Accident or not, it started, and I flew down the crude road, turning the heat to high, knowing that, even if a wild animaldarted in front of the truck, nothing was going to stop me. I hit a deep dip, the truck complaining about the blow, and Atta hissed.
My eyes whipped to hers.
She held up a trembling hand. “I’m all right, for the most part. Just sore. Keep your eyes on the road.”
My eyes flew forward, my hands thawed enough to squeeze the wheel, but the longer I drove, the lighter my foot pressed on the gas.
“Sistine,” Atta whispered. “Keeping going straight. Donotturn back.”
She was right. I was about to turn back. Wait for them to make it home. Hide in a tree or some brush and pick them off one by one. Blow up their shriveled cocks and laugh while they burned from the heat.
“Sistine.” Her voice was firm. So serious as, miles away from the condemned barn, I pulled to the side of the road.
She sighed. “Neither one of us will ever forget this night, but we can never speak of it again.”
“Atta,” I whispered, but it was only because I did not understand. How could we allow them to get away with this?
“That threat he left us with—he’ll kill my little brother. My baby brother, who looks so much like my daddy. Who has a smile that can bring out the sun. No.” She used her hand to make a stop gesture. “We can’t do anything about this. Remember that line inRomancing the Stone? ‘Bastards always have brothers.’ And if not brothers, they have uncles or cousins.
“If we make a stink about this, or one of them get hurt, they’ll find out. They’ll kill my brother. They’d kill my family over the ranch. They’ve always wanted it. One less Watt to worry about causin’ a stink.”
I stared at her for a moment, until I looked forward, watching as the snow twirled in front of the lights. I jumped when Atta set a blanket around my shoulders.
“You’re shivering,” she whispered, setting one around hers. “My daddy always stocked our cars with blankets and hand warmers. Never know when you’ll need ’em around here.”
We both stared at the snow falling in silence, the world beyond it a black void that could not be penetrated, not even by lights.
Atta sighed. “This is what we’ll say to mamma and granny. We swerved to avoid an animal, and we slammed into a tree. The truck is beat up, the windshield cracked. It’s believable. We were out, just to listen to music and have fun.”
“Is this why he did this?” I whispered. “Does he want the ranch? Or did he do this for fun?”
