Chapter 117
Chapter 117
Louis did not answer fast enough. Norris’s hand dropped toward the carbine slung at his side. His other hand stayed at his belt, his shirt half tucked. The sleep went out of his face.
“I asked you a question,” Norris said. “What the hell are you doing?”
Savannah’s wrists hung together in front of her, the loose rope looped well enough to pass at a glance. Louis kept one hand on her upper arm and the M14 low in the other. He could feel her breathing beside him, shallow and controlled.
“Pike sent me,” Louis said.
“For what?”
“Transfer.”
Norris’s eyes moved to Savannah’s hands. “Nobody told me about a transfer.”
A door opened behind them in the side passage. Pike came first, stepping out with his suspenders still hanging loose. Nicholas followed half a step behind him with the M14 in one hand, hat low. His eyes went to Norris first, then to Savannah’s hands.
Pike looked from Norris to Louis.
“What’s going on here?”
Norris turned slightly, not taking his eyes off the others. “This new boy’s got the prisoner out of the room.”
Pike turned on Louis. “Harris.”
“Sir.”
“You told him to move her?” Norris asked.
“I told him to stand ready for transfer.” Pike’s voice had recovered its office tone, dry and irritated. “Apparently he heard half the sentence and decided to supply the rest himself.”
Nicholas made a low sound through his nose.
“Boy’s new,” he said. “Too eager. Thought if he brought her out first, he’d get credit for being quick.”
Norris stared at Louis. “That true?”
Louis kept his eyes on Norris. “Yes, sir. I wanted to show initiative.”
“Jesus Christ.” Norris started closer, his eyes dropping toward Savannah’s hands. “You pull a prisoner before relief again, I’ll put you in there with her. You understand?”
“Yes, sir.”
Savannah did not move. Norris pointed at her wrists. “And what is this? That knot looks like you tied it one-handed.”
Pike looked at the rope. Nicholas stepped forward before Louis could speak.
“I’ll fix it,” he said. “He’s made enough mess.”
Norris hesitated, then jerked his chin. Nicholas took Savannah by the wrists hard enough to shift her shoulders. It looked like he was only correcting bad work: pulling the rope through, turning it once, then again, setting the knot flatter against the inside of her wrist. His fingers moved slowly, clumsy enough for Norris to follow. Louis saw the slack he left under the knot. The rope seemed tighter when he was finished. It lay over the red marks already pressed into her skin.
Savannah’s face did not change. Only her thumb moved once, testing the slack Nicholas had hidden under the knot. Nicholas let her hands fall.
“There,” he said. “Done. Can we get on with our damn night?”
Norris grunted. He looked at the knot once more, then looked away.
Pike took a paper slip from his pocket and thrust it toward Norris. “Montgomery came back on the girl. She’s no longer county business.”
Norris looked at the slip, then back at Pike. “Since when?”
“Since they decided she might be attached to the Collins notice.”
At the name, Louis kept his eyes down.
Norris exhaled through his nose. “She’s headed where, then?”
“That will not be your concern,” Pike said. “I need her moved to transport right now.”
Norris looked at Savannah, then back to Pike. “Fine by me. I’m going to sleep if you don’t mind.”
“Go,” Pike said.
Norris walked away down the hall. Louis tightened his hand on Savannah’s arm and started down the hall. Nicholas fell in behind them. Pike followed last, close enough to hear.
“Tell me this is just an excuse to get her out,” Louis said under his breath.
“It’s more than an excuse.” Nicholas kept his voice even. “They’re sending her to Montgomery for questioning.”
“Shit,” Louis whispered.
“I put you two on the escorting list,” Pike said behind Louis. “You better know what you’re doing.”
“I do.” Louis turned to Savannah and lowered his voice. “We’re going to get you out. I promise.”
Savannah glanced at him. “You better not be lying to me.”
“I’m not,” Louis said.
Her head stayed down. She tightened before they entered the front room. Men who had been asleep now sat upright or gathered gear, angry at being pulled awake. The clerk was copying a line from one sheet to another. His eyes flicked up when Savannah entered, then down again. He looked back at the paper and kept his eyes there.
Three men stood near the door. The first was broad and gray-haired, with sergeant’s chevrons fixed to the front of his tactical vest. He wore a militia cap low on his forehead and dark sunglasses that hid his eyes even indoors. His face was lined and tired. He carried a carbine close to his chest. Beside him stood a thinner man in the same vest and cap, his sunglasses hanging from the front of his shirt. A tobacco-stained mustache covered his mouth. He held a ring of keys and a fuel chit. The third was a fat man leaning against the old feed counter with a shotgun across one shoulder and a tin cup of coffee in his free hand. He looked at Savannah first, then Louis, then Nicholas, and smiled.
“That her?” he asked.
Pike said, “That’s her.”
The sergeant stepped forward. “Name?”
“She hasn’t given one.”
The sergeant looked at Savannah. “You got a name?”
Savannah said nothing.
The fat man laughed into his coffee. “Ain’t that something. All that fight and no name to go with it.”
“Doesn’t matter,” the sergeant said. “We got orders. You two.” He nodded at Louis and Nicholas. “Nowak and Harris?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I’m Sergeant Rusk. Mackey drives. Hale rides rear. You two ride rear too. Prisoner between benches. She makes any trouble, you put her down. Clear?”
“Clear, sir,” Louis said. “Where are we going?”
“Lexington Airfield.” Rusk shifted the carbine. “Transfer to state custody. From there, it’s out of our hands.”
“Of course they do.” Hale rubbed his face with one hand. “Because God forbid the Army boys come fetch their own prisoner.”
Rusk turned toward him.
Hale lowered his hand. “Just saying.”
“Just shut up.”
They moved outside. The prisoner transport was parked near the side lot. It was an old county vehicle, half van and half cage, painted dull gray beneath dirt and scrapes. The front cab had two seats and a cracked windshield. The rear compartment had narrow metal benches facing each other and a barred side window too small to climb through. The back door had an outside lock. The inside latch had been removed. Someone had bolted a ring to the floor. Another ring hung from the side wall, dark with rust at the base.
Mackey opened the rear door.
“Get in,” he said.
Louis guided Savannah forward. She climbed in. The step was high, and her balance shifted. He put his hand at her back. She steadied herself and sat on the floor instead of the bench, back against the wall. Her hands stayed in front. Her ankles were still tied short enough to keep her steps small. Hale climbed in after her and checked the knot at her wrists again. He grabbed the rope and pulled upward hard enough to lift her shoulders from the wall. The knot held.
Hale dropped her hands. “Tied enough.”
Nicholas entered next and sat on the bench near the door, the M14 across his lap. Louis climbed in opposite him, rifle between his knees. Hale took the bench closest to Savannah and braced one boot against the floor ring. Rusk shut the rear door from outside and turned the key hard in the lock.
Louis kept his eyes on the door after the lock turned. Mackey started the engine. It coughed twice before catching. The front doors opened and shut. Rusk’s voice came through the partition, muffled but hard.
“Move.”
The transport lurched. Savannah rolled one shoulder against the wall as the vehicle pulled out of the yard. Louis did not look at her first. He watched Hale. The man’s head had fallen back against the metal wall. His eyes were open, but not by much.
County office lights passed behind the barred window. Men by the steps turned to watch them go. One raised a hand in a lazy half-salute. The transport rattled over bad pavement and turned onto a county road. The headlights showed only the next stretch of asphalt and the ditch on either side.