“What is it, Sam?” Robert asked as he heaved a huge board over his head. “You wanna help with the raft or something? I’m just about to build the deck.”
“I need you to help me dig a big hole.”
Robert lifted his shirt to wipe the sweat from his face, exposing a shadow of hair on his chest. “Sam, I’ve got work to do.”
“Just five minutes. That’s all, I promise.” Sam grimaced and pleaded once more. “Robby, please?”
Robert stared at her and shook his head. “What do you need a hole for?”
“Promise not to say? Daddy would have a fit. Promise?”
“Yeah, yeah, what is it? Hurry up, I don’t have all day.”
“Let’s get some stuff to dig a hole, and I’ll show you.” She tugged on Robert’s arm and pulled him into the barn to get the proper tools and then dashed toward the creek.
Robert marched along behind Sam with his fingers gripped around an old rusted shovel. It’d been Grandpa Cleveland’s before it belonged to Harold, but Robert used it last summer when he and Sam attempted to construct a dam at the edge of the creek.
Sam carried a small trowel and ran way ahead, glancing back as she made her way toward the burial site. Across the churning Okatoma and up past the rim of water on the other side, a screen door flapped shut. Sam squinted at the familiar but awful sight of Old Miss Patterson, which caused her to halt in her tracks.
“Just keep walking, Sam. You know what Dad told us about her. Don’t even look over there,” Robert urged as he glared across the creek then nudged Sam so that she picked up her pace once again. “She’s gone back inside anyway. Crazy old fool!”
Out of breath, Sam plopped on one of the boulders. She pointed to a heap of twigs and leaves and said, “There...it’s...right there.” She still hadn’t caught her breath but kept pointing at nothing but a pile of twigs. The faint remnants of a talon jutted out from the debris.
Robert nudged the mound of leaves with his foot then stepped back once he caught a glimpse of the carcass. “Ah, jeez, Sam. You took me all the way down here, away from the work I gotta do, to show me this? That thing stinks! Leave it be. It’s gross.” Robert kicked some dirt over the rotting bird then stepped over the mound and trekked along the creek a few paces.
“Robby, please, if we bury it here, I’ll always know where it’s at.” Sam’s last plea was accented with a break in her voice as she kneeled on the dirt next to the dead bird. “Fine, I’ll dig it myself. I don’t need your help. Go build your stupid raft.”
Sam continued to dig the hole she’d started earlier, but this time she scooped sand with the small trowel. The tiny shovel hardly held any dirt. After a couple minutes of digging, she’d only created a shallow trench. The gritty pebbles beneath her knees left grainy imprints on her skin.
“Okay, I’ll help you, but only for five minutes,” Robert muttered as he returned to her. Without saying another word, he kicked a couple faded beer cans to the side then thrust the shovel deep into the earth, forcing it farther in with his heel. He drove the rusted tool into the ground a few more times, creating a giant hole big enough for a large animal. When it was deep and plenty enough prepared, Robert used the shovel to scoop the carcass into the grave. He heaped dirt over the dead bird, filling the hole until it was level with the ground.
“You won’t say anything to Mama or Daddy, will you?” Sam sprinkled sand and dried leaves over the grave.
“Naw, but you best stay away from here now that this thing is buried. You know what Dad has told us about not wandering this far down the river.” Robert continued to pat the ground with the flat side of the shovel then kicked twigs and sand over the site. He headed back toward the house, hoisting the shovel over his shoulder. Within a few seconds he was already yards from the burial site.
The surface of the grave blended with the terrain along the river, making it look part of the natural landscape. But, worried she hadn’t adequately marked the spot where the bird lay in its final resting place, Sam decided to erect a gravestone—a monument to show where the carcass would spend its last days mulching with the earth.
“Robby, I’ll catch up with you later!” Sam squatted next to the creek and scanned the surface for flat rocks. “I wanna find a grave marker. I’ll be home soon. Rachel will be over tonight with the new puppy. Don’t tell Mama what I’m doing, okay?”
As she searched for the right gravestone, Sam caught sight of a flat, smooth rock in the creek, but it was at least three steps into the shallow water. She hesitated, for she wasn’t wearing thick rubber boots and therefore wasn’t protected from venomous snakes. She scanned the vicinity and considered where best to place her feet to be able to reach it.
Behind her, she heard the crunch of footsteps on the gravel but kept her eyes locked on that stone under the water. Relieved that Robert had returned to help, she called out, “Robby, can you help me get that rock? It’s perfect for a grave marker.”
She crouched down at the rim of the water to lean as far as her arms could reach, but she was still a good two paces too far. The heavy footsteps on the dirt got closer. “Robby, if I promise to help with the raft, will you please get that stone in the water? It’s that flat one right here, but I can’t...” Sam looked behind her to see a giant shadow towering above her.
A rough hand over her mouth silenced her voice. She suddenly felt dizzy as a tall man gripped her arm. He then yanked her from the riverbank and pulled her to the sandy shore.
“Well, aren’t you a pretty little thing,” the man said with his hand still covering her mouth.
Sam glimpsed at the guy’s scruffy face, wishing she’d heeded Robert’s warnings and headed back to the house. Her face felt hot but cold at the same time, the breeze from the creek chilling her as she remained frozen in front of the tall man.
“Hey, guys, get on over here,” the man said and glanced behind him. “Looks like we got ourselves something special, a little afternoon delight.” He kept his calloused hand over Sam’s mouth and stared at her.
Sam tried to look behind her to see who this guy was speaking to, but her neck was frozen, her legs as well. Her entire body went cold—icy like the river in winter. She squirmed to try and escape from the man’s grip and managed to chomp down hard on his pinkie.
“Goddamned little bitch,” he said through his teeth then yanked her by the hair. “Don’t go biting me, kid. You don’t want to piss me off. We don’t mean no harm. My brothers and I are just taking a stroll along the river.”
Sam squirmed from the man’s grip and attempted to step away. “My daddy’s nearby,” she lied. “Any minute now, he and a bunch of other police officers will come and arrest you.”
“Well, how about that?” The man fingered Sam’s sundress then ran his thumb underneath the strap, touching the top of her chest. “Fred, Chuck, come on over here. This kid’s dad is a cop. What do y’all think of that?”
Sam trembled as the man loomed over her. She tried to escape from his grasp but stiffened when he clenched his hand around her wrist. From the corner of her eye, she saw two more men approach. She couldn’t stop her body from shaking.
“Hey, Johnny, you ready to go?” she heard one man say. As the voice neared, Sam caught a glimpse of this other person—a wiry guy wearing a faded blue flannel shirt. “Whoa, what’s going on?” There was a sound of surprise in his voice as he stepped closer.
“Now, Fred,” Johnny said and stared at him, “don’t be interrupting me when I’m about to have a good time with a cop’s little girl. I bet Chuck isn’t ready to leave either. Right, Chuck?”
Another guy, the largest and what appeared to be the oldest of them all, approached Johnny and glared at Sam. She again squirmed to try and get away from Johnny, but he clenched his hand around her wrist.
“Chuck, how ‘bout you help me keep this kid still,” Johnny said.
“Don’t be moving like that,” Chuck said and set his rough hand on her bare shoulder. “You don’t wanna be pissing off any o
f us. Isn’t that right, Fred?”
“Guys, we gotta go,” Fred said and paced a few feet away. “Leave this one alone.”
Sam considered screaming, but her voice remained silent. She stared at Fred for a moment hoping he’d say something else to convince Johnny to let her go.
“Let Johnny have his fun,” Chuck said and took a long chug of beer.
“The cops are probably on our trail,” Fred said and lit a cigarette. “We shouldn’t even be anywhere near Covington right now. They got a good look at our truck last week.”
“Yeah, all because of you,” Johnny said and shook his head. “Such a fucking loser.”
Sam heard the crunch of gravel again and hoped it was Robert this time. She should’ve stayed with him, should have helped him with the raft as she’d promised. But a dead, bloated bird needed burying.
“You know what, kid?” Johnny leaned down in front of her face—so close that Sam could smell the sour stench of beer and cigarettes on his breath. “I been watching you. You certainly are a pretty thing. But you know what? I hate cops. They usually run us outta town. Or else they lock us up. I got one up on them, though. Me and my brothers,” he said and waved behind him, “we done robbed that gas station just outside Seminary last week. When that clerk went to grab a handgun from under the counter, Chuck here pistol-whipped him till he lay there begging for mercy.”
“I beat that guy to a pulp,” Chuck said and laughed. “Beat his skull with my pistol. It was a better way to make him suffer than just shooting him in the head. Kicked him a few times in the gut for good measure before we grabbed ourselves a few beers from the cooler then headed out. But then dumbass here blew it when he didn’t speed off right away like I told him to do.”
Sam wanted to run from these bad men. She wanted to wriggle her way out of Johnny’s grip, but her body wouldn’t move. When she caught another whiff of beer and cigarettes on Johnny’s breath, a sour, hollow sensation traveled to the pit of her stomach.
“Fred’s always fucking up,” Johnny said. “The police got a good look at our truck—all because he fucked up as he drove away.” He spat into the river then ran his hand through his greasy hair as he peered into the woods. He returned his hand to Sam’s shoulder, pressing hard into her skin.
Chuck stood there and shook his head, looking out over the creek. “Yeah, he’s right, Fred always fucks up everything. I say we oughta take a cut out of Fred’s earnings from that last robbery for messing up. Not right for him to have an equal share.”
“Good plan. Hopefully them cops won’t catch up to us.” Johnny yanked Sam by the arm then glanced from her face down to her dress and leaned over so that his face was only a couple inches from hers. “Them cops are always causing us trouble. A few years back, a couple of them came and arrested me and my brother for trespassing on private property right around here in this very area. Your daddy have anything to do with that?”
Trembling and short of breath, Sam averted her eyes from Johnny’s and stared at the creek. Her daddy once in a while would talk about bad people who’d occasionally come through town, but Sam figured those sorts of people only had an interest in robbing stores and gas stations. She never imagined men like these would be so close to her house.
“Man, you’re fuckin crazy,” Fred said. “Her dad could be nearby. He could be after us right now. Let her be.”
“Fred, shut up, will ya? Why are you such a wuss, huh? Let’s see what this pretty girl has on under this little dress of hers.” Johnny unclasped his belt and tossed it onto the ground, the clank of the metal buckle hitting the stones. Then he ran his dirty finger under Sam’s chin and down her chest again. He reached up her dress until his hand touched the inner part of her thigh.
“What the hell you think you’re doing?” Fred asked. “This one’s way too young.”
“Jesus Christ, Fred,” Johnny said. “Quit being so annoying, will ya? You let me enjoy myself right now.”
Sam wanted to look into the nearby woods to see if Robert was there. She would never venture out to No Man’s Landing ever again. If she’d only thought more about the threat of those snakes, she probably would have never even found that dead bird.
“Come on, guys,” Fred said. “Let’s get out of here before the kid’s father finds us. Just let her go.” After he popped open a can of beer, Fred stepped closer to his brothers then towered over Sam. He took a long gulp of beer then stared at Sam who kept trying to wriggle out of Johnny’s grip.
“You’re getting the little lady’s dress all soiled,” Chuck said. “Here, how ‘bout I help clean her up a bit.” He bent over and dusted the dirt from the top of her dress. After he swiped a hand across her bare chest, he brushed the dirt from the front of her, lingering on her belly.
“You know,” Johnny said and glared at Fred. “If Fred ain’t man enough to flee the scene of a crime right, then I bet he ain’t man enough to give us a hand here.”
“We don’t mean no harm,” Chuck said then reached up Sam’s dress and touched her knee. “My brother Johnny and me are just nice country folk like you’uns. We got kin around here.” He shined out a smile that revealed yellowed teeth, some chipped or missing entirely.
Fred took another long sip of beer then stared first at Chuck and then at Sam. “I bet her dad’s the one who arrested me back in eighty-five here in Covington County. Got four years because of that son of a bitch.” Fred took a few more gulps of beer then set the can on the dirt, hovering over Sam.
“You got that right,” Chuck said then patted the front of her dress, lingering at her crotch. He then pressed his hand hard onto her body. “That ain’t right you got so much time for robbing that convenience store. Lost four years of your life because of them cops.”
“You know, Fred, I been questioning how manly you are,” Johnny said. “You always did seem a little soft. You’d think four years in jail would’ve toughened you up.”
“I bet he’s not man enough to do this,” Chuck said then lifted Sam’s dress and reached far up past her thigh until his hand touched the front of her underwear. He hooked a finger around the elastic and tugged on it a couple times. “Come on, little brother, just this once, huh? Or are you too soft like Johnny says?”
Fred reached for his beer and took another slurp and glared at Sam. “Y’all are fuckin wrong. You know I’m man enough,” he said then nudged her with his boot until she fell onto the hard ground. As he stared into her eyes, he inched her dress up a few inches above her knee then reached toward her crotch as he grabbed hold of her underwear, forcing them off her hips.
Sam tried to resist, pulling her legs in as far as she could. Huddled in a ball, she felt the material of her underwear rip.
Fred twirled the ripped panties in the air then pressed his foot on Sam’s leg. “Do I fit in now?” he asked and wheezed out a raspy laugh. “Told you I’m just like you two.”
“You done good,” Chuck said and whacked Fred’s back with a hard slap then set a heavy boot on Sam’s shoulder. “Now that you’ve proven yourself, we best get going. I’m plenty satisfied with what we’ve done. I bet Johnny is about ready to go, too.”
“Naw, I don’t know,” Johnny said. “I’m not so sure I’m ready to leave yet.”
“What do you have in mind?” Chuck said and laughed as he towered over Sam. He cupped a hand over the crotch of his jeans. “You thinking what I’m thinking?”
Sam trembled under Chuck’s boot, but then she heard gravelly footsteps nearby. She feared a fourth man. Chuck rubbed his hand over the front of his jeans and glared at Sam lying below him. The crunch of steps on the gravel got closer. She remained paralyzed, her eyes fearing a fourth attacker. But then Sam recognized Robert’s shoes and noticed he still held the shovel in his hands. She feared now more for Robert than for herself. Just as she took notice of him, she saw the rusted metal of the shovel swing through the air and whack Chuck in the back of the head. The clunk against his skull echoed across the creek.
“Get off m
y sister!” Robert yelled and swung it again, hitting him right in the temple, even before Chuck noticed where it’d come from. Robert stood there gripping the shovel and glared at Chuck. “She’s just a kid. Don’t you touch her!”
Chuck started to push himself up onto all fours but collapsed and mumbled something that Sam couldn’t hear.
“Don’t you move!” Robert thrust the shovel forward and barely missed Chuck’s head.
Fred stomped closer to Robert and swung a fist his way. As Chuck remained on the ground, Robert jabbed the shovel at Fred, whacking him hard in the ribcage and causing him to fall to the ground. Fred held his side and moaned. Then Johnny lunged, but Robert struck him in the face with the shovel, resulting in him being stunned from the blow. Sam had never witnessed Robert filled with so much anger.
“You fucking make a move,” Robert said to the men cowering below him on the ground, “and I’ll kill you.”
Johnny wiped the blood from his mouth. “Easy there. Just put that thing down. We don’t mean no harm. We’ll just be on our way now.”
Chuck once again started to push himself up from the ground, but Robert struck him again with the shovel—the force hitting him in the neck.
“I said don’t move!” Robert whacked Chuck’s head again with full force. Another strike on Chuck’s head caused him to fall forward, his body going limp onto the ground. As the man lay in the dirt, Robert hit him again—this time a fierce blow to his forehead. The metal hitting the man’s skull echoed over the babbling water. Although Chuck’s body remained still on the sand, Robert delivered one more wallop to his skull, the blow causing his body to become wedged at the water’s edge. While the man lay there unconscious, Robert delivered one more thump to the head, this time hitting him with even more force. Chuck lay motionless next to the creek, face down in the water.
Robert glanced at Sam hiding in the bush, and then he took a step closer to Johnny and jabbed the shovel into his back. “Get out of here or else I’ll take care of you, too. Both of you, you best leave, or else you’ll be sorry.”
Saving Sam Page 7
