Free Devils and Dust by J.D. Rhoades Page B

of. He’d recoiled from that, just as Marie had. He’d retreated again, back into a different desert. Back to the devils and the dust.
    And now, Angela had brought him back again. He wondered what he’d have to do this time. He wondered what it might do to him. You’re a warrior, not a killer, Lucas had said. Embrace it. It doesn’t make you the monster you think you are. He hoped that was true.
    Keller shook his head as if to clear out the cobwebs. Enough of this . I’ve got a job to do. Someone to find. And a friend who needs help. As he rolled through the flat fertile lands of the coastal plain, he began to smile.By the time he crossed the Cape Fear River Bridge into Wilmington, he was whistling.

B ENDER AND the other guard, a skinny, cadaverous-looking man who never spoke around the toothpick in his mouth, had marched them back to the camp as the sun had started to sink behind the trees. They didn’t go back to the barracks, however. They were lined up outside Building Three, between the end of the building and the lone tree that stood nearby. They stood there, slumped with exhaustion and trembling with fear, until the door opened. Kinney walked out, one end of a thick rope hanging in coils on one shoulder. Diego was on the other end of it, hands still cuffed behind him, the rope knotted into a noose around his neck. His face showed the unmistakable signs of a beating. One eye was completely swollen shut, the other looked straight ahead with the glassy stare of one already dead. His shirt was gone, his body crisscrossed with raised welts and lacerations. There were patches of dried blood caked on his chest and back.
    The General came next, dressed in his black judge’s robe. As Kinney, still smiling, led Diego past the line, he stopped in front of the queue of men and crossed his arms. “A trial has been held,” he intoned, “and verdict announced. This man has been found guilty of assault on a lawful authority and attempting to escape lawful punishment. As an example to you all, the sentence is death.” Ruben heard a sob from down the line. He prayed it wasn’t Edgar, but kept his own face stony. The last thing he wanted to do was attract the attention of any of these madmen, this so-called General especially.
    “Turn and face the tree,” the General said, “and do not close your eyes if you want to keep them in your heads.” Some of the men seemed confused. The General turned to Ruben. “Tell them.”
    “He says we have to watch,” Ruben told them in Spanish, “or we’ll be punished.”
    Slowly, they turned. More than one man was crying now. Shut up, you idiots, Ruben raged inside, but the General took no notice. Or maybe tears were what he wanted.
    Kinney stood beneath the tree and unspooled the rope. It took him a couple of tries to toss the free end over a high branch. When it finally went over and dangled down within reach, Kinney grabbed it and pulled it tight, causing Diego to rise up on his tiptoes. Kinney gestured with one hand to Bender, who slung his gun and joined him on the end of the rope. The thin man kept his gun trained on them.
    “Does the condemned man have any last words?” the General asked.
    Diego’s one open eye showed a last glimmer of defiance. “Yeah,” he croaked in a dry, ruined voice. “ Cuando llegue al infierno, voy a coger a tu puta madre por el culo .”
    The General looked puzzled. He turned to Ruben. “What did he say?”
    Ruben hesitated.
    “Well?” the General asked.
    Ruben cleared his throat. “He said, ‘When I get to hell, I’m going to fuck your whore mother in the ass.’”
    The General’s face darkened with rage. He motioned to Kinney and Bender. They began to step backward, pulling on the rope. Diego was hauled into the air. His face turned red, then purple. He began to kick. His struggles grew wilder, more desperate, as they hauled him higher. His eyes bulged and horrible strangled sounds came from this throat as his lungs tried desperately