Free Wild Is the Night by Colleen Quinn Page B

you’ve been a real help, friend. I’ll tell old Butch you ain’t as bad as we thought you were. One thing’s only fair, though. Since you made old Butch bleed, I don’t think he’d like it if I left you in one piece.” Damien grinned, his dark eyes empty and lifeless, like an idiot’s.
    “But…” Howard gasped as the razor slashed across his throat. Crashing into the counter, he was hardly aware of the lotion spilling, cementing the hair to the floor in a sticky wash of lime scented liquid. Warm blood flowed over his white shirt, and the barber slowly sank to the floor as the lime cologne dripped steadily from the counter.
    Damien strode from the barbership with a grin. Butch would love this one—and he couldn’t wait to tell him.
    Morning dawned as softly and smoothly as the opening of a red rose. A thin flush of light sparkled the prairie grass, then crept over the endless, undulating field like a sheer gold covering on a green silk dress. Dew glittered like casually tossed diamonds, and the brilliant purple of the larkspur, the scathing pink of the geranium, and the bright yellow bloom of the sunflowers dotted the plain like well-chosen ornaments. The sky seemed to touch the land, blending at once with the softly waving grass, then continuing upward to dance with the clouds. It was beautiful, restless and wild, much like the horse Luke had been watching for the past half hour.
    He had spotted the animal upon waking, amazed to see the sinewy dark creature gamboling through the open field as if at home in a grassy meadow. The horse was obviously young, not even three years if he could estimate, and was having a grand time rushing up to the small prairie dogs and frightening the tiny animals back into their burrows. Racing along the horizon, the horse embodied the freedom of the plains and the spirit of the open land.
    Amanda woke, blinking at the sudden rush of sunlight and the sweet scent of the warm, waving grass. Aesop rustled in his cage, and with regret, she remembered she hadn’t fed him last night. In their rush to put as much distance between themselves and Abilene, they had traveled through much of the night, stopping only when Amanda needed a rest. Luke wouldn’t permit her more than a few minutes before he had her back on her feet, heading always south.
    Yawning, she struggled to reach for the carpetbag, oblivious to everything else. Raising the cover on the bird cage, she winced as Aesop shot her an injured expression, then proceeded to turn his head around backwards in total rejection. Amanda sighed, then opened the tin which was punctured with small air holes and removed the best of the mice. There were only 3 left. They’d have to catch more mice soon, or perhaps a tiny lizard. Idly, Amanda wondered if Kansas had lizards. She opened the cage and offered Aesop the fat mouse.
    The owl hooted, his head appearing suddenly as hunger overtook pride and he snapped at the rodent. Crunching and squawking, he rustled in his cage, letting Amanda know he wasn’t too happy with her, even though he would eat.
    “Will you shut that damned bird up?” Luke snapped.
    Amanda glanced over at him, surprised at the vehemence in his tone. “But…”
    The bird rustled and Luke gave her a disgusted look. “Can’t you see it?”
    “See what?” Amanda slid down to her belly, the way he was doing, and looked toward the horizon. “Oh, it’s a horse. Isn’t he pretty?”
    Luke groaned, then turned to her, his expression filled with restrained patience. “Yes, it’s a horse. And if we catch him, it means we don’t walk for the next five days. Do you think you can keep that bird’s beak shut until I try?”
    “But how are you going to do that?” Amanda stared at him, her eyes wide and innocent, brimming with intelligence.
    Luke shrugged. He’d been wrestling with the same thought since he’d awakened and had seen the horse galloping along the field. He hadn’t time to bring supplies, any of the things he