Chapter 27 #3
Hattie racked the rifle. The hollow sound made her heart sink. She was out of bullets, and Cutter was about to come around the corner of the barn. Her hands shook as she popped open the lever again, hoping beyond all hope that she’d been wrong, that the bullet had simply gotten stuck.
But no. It was empty.
Cutter came around the corner of the barn. His scarred face was red with fury. Spittle flew from his mouth as he charged at her, holding his knife high. It was clear where he got his skills from, but he was a far bigger opponent than his mother was.
“You little bitch!” he roared. Cutter threw the knife. It left his hand like a bullet and raced toward her, flashing in the sun.
Hattie ducked, but she felt the air whizz by her ear. The knife thunked into the wood siding of the barn just behind her.
That wasn’t the last of Cutter’s weapons. He’d brought another blade with him from the barn, a terrifyingly curved knife. His eyes shone as he bore down on her.
Hattie scrambled backwards and felt a hard, cold shape against her stomach. The pistol! She whisked it out of her belt, thrust it forward, and fired. Cutter kept running. She fired again.
His steps slowed. The bullets were a small caliber, but his heart was beating fast, and the blood was beginning to seep through his jacket. He staggered, sliding a little as he fell to the ground. Cutter grunted, still gripping the blade, but then it, too, fell into the snow.
Hattie waited a few seconds, catching her breath. She waited for someone else to come bursting out of the inn, for someone else to come after her, for someone other reason to keep fighting for her life.
The inn stayed silent, with only a thin curl of smoke emanating from the chimney.
Slowly, keeping her pistol aimed, Hattie stepped over to Cutter. Blood foamed from his lips and outlined his teeth.
“Go on, girl,” he ground out. “Kill me just like you killed your fiancé. Just close your eyes and pretend I’m Oscar all over again.”
He was goading her. He was saying it because he thought she wouldn’t follow through. Hattie wanted to tell him how wrong he was. She wanted to justify everything she’d done since that fateful day, but her words would be lost on someone like him. He couldn’t absolve her of anything.
“You’re the killer.” Her voice, low and harsh, sounded as though it came from someone else entirely. “I’m just finishing the job that you started.”
She pulled the trigger again. Cutter’s feet jerked, and then he was still.
Tucking the pistol in her belt and retrieving the rifle, Hattie hurried into the barn. Ben was a gristly sight. Blood dripped from his nose. His skin was covered in purple bruises. He hung so limply from his wrists that she wasn’t even sure he was alive.
“Ben!” Hattie grabbed one of the knives Cutter had left on the table. Its wooden handle was dark from all the blood that’d washed over it through the years. She was too short to reach the rope. Looking around, she found a small crate and dragged it over, hoping it was enough to hold her weight.
“I’m sorry,” she said as she sawed at the rope. “It’s going to hurt when you fall.”
The last fiber of the rope snapped, and Ben crumpled to the ground. Hattie jumped down from the crate and cut the last of the ropes from his wrists. “I’m going to get you out of here.”
“I can’t,” Ben groaned. “I can’t go anywhere.”
“I know. But we can’t stay here. Just hang on.”
The stable boy peered at her cautiously from the tack room as she entered the stables across the street. “What’s goin’ on out there?”
“A lot of bad things,” she said miserably. “I need my horses and wagon. Can you help me hitch them up?”
“What’s in it for me?” he asked, scuffing his boot through the dust.
She opened the first stall, but mentally she paused. Hattie had nothing to give. “Never mind.”
“Where are you headin’?”
That gave her pause, too. Where would she go? Hattie had been facing that problem ever since she’d left home. She was a wanted woman, for sure. She’d killed her fiancé, and now she’d killed others.
Ben needed a doctor, though. “Antelope Springs.”
“Take me with you,” the boy insisted as he opened the other stall and brought out the second horse.
“Why? What about your parents?” Hattie led the horse down to the far end of the barn where the wagon was.
“That’s where they are!” the kid exclaimed, following her. “They sent me her to get work with Mama Kincaid. She’s my mam’s cousin, but I don’t like her. She’s mean, and I just want to go home.”
“Do you know how to harness them up?” Hattie asked.
“Sure do.” The boy started working right away, his little hands deftly buckling the leather.
He’d be running with a wanted criminal. Hattie didn’t want that for him, but she could return him to his family. It was the only choice. “All right, then. I’ve got to get my friend from the old barn behind the inn. I’ll be back.”
Her lungs were burning by the time she fetched Ben from the barn. “Can you walk?”
“If it gets me out of this hell, then I’ll do anything,” he promised as she draped his arm across her shoulders.
They slowly limped out of the barnyard. Hattie would take him to Antelope Springs. It was what he wanted, what he needed. But she was sure she wouldn’t be welcome.