Dancing with the Devil

Chapter Three

Chapter Three

Darkness had long settled over the group. Frogs and crickets filled the night with their music and Ance found that sleep simply wouldn't come. The girl wasn't sleeping... and every single time she shifted or whimpered in that damned crate he heard it and it jerked him back to alertness. 

Ance heard movement from beside the wagon and he raised his hat slightly so he could glance that way. Vern was standing at the back of the wagon and in the moonlight Ance could see the lust filled grin on his face. Vern reached into the wagon and jerked the girl up by her arm. Her brown eyes were wide and her face pale as he tossed her in the dirt at his feet. The gag on her mouth kept her from yelling for help as Vern undid his pants and tossed up her dress. 

Vern dropped to his knees, using his legs to pin down the girl's. Ance saw the girl's eyes fill with raw terror just as Ance came up behind Vern and slid his eight inch knife across the man's neck, severing the arteries and veins and spraying blood across the girl's face and dress. 

Ance tossed Vern's body silently away and wiped his knife on his pants before turning his attention back to the girl. She was shaking like a leaf and swollen tears ran down her pale, blood splattered cheeks as she stared up at him with fearful brown eyes. 

Ance cursed under his breath. What the hell had he just done? 

With a shake of his head, he decided there wasn't a damn thing to be done about it now. He just had to take the girl and get the hell out of here before Barnaby or any of the others woke up and he had a massacre on his hands. As good as Ance was in a fight he wasn't much of a match against ten armed men in the open like this. 

Ance left the girl lying there as he grabbed up his saddle and saddle bags. He quickly readied his mare and then went back to the girl who had scooted back and was hiding halfway beneath the wagon. 

Stepping over Vern's dead body, Ance grabbed the girl, tossed her over the horse's back and hopped up behind her. Ance grumbled when she curled herself up against him. 

With a click of his tongue, Ance led his mare into the wilderness knowing he only had until dawn to put as much distance as he could between himself and a very angry Barnaby. 

Darkness had given way to the day before Ance decided to stop for a while. He really didn't have a choice. He kept drifting to sleep in the saddle and the girl had nearly toppled out several times. 

He found a shallow river that ran through a deep ravine and guided his mare down the rocky embankment. Hiding the mare beneath an overhang of bushes, Ance tossed the girl and his saddlebags over his shoulder and carried them both to a small overhanging of rock. He laid down his saddlebags and tossed the girl somewhat gently down onto the dirt. 

Ance pulled out a sack of hardtack and jerked beef as well as his canteen. He could see the hunger in the girl's eyes so he removed her gag and handed her both. 

She didn't speak, which he was grateful for; instead she simply pulled out a biscuit and nibbled on it between taking sips of water. Ance found his gaze drawn to her leg and the metal brace that covered it. He wondered what had caused the deformity... 

"I was born with a pretty leg," the girl finally spoke. Her voice was quiet, meek and raspy from so long without real use. "But I got real sick and my leg never got better. Mama said it was--" she frowned and her brow wrinkled up. "P..plol..popl.." 

"Polio," Ance grunted and she nodded as a smile curved her lips. 

"Yes, that's it."

Silence was again fell over them as Ance chewed on a piece of beef and stared at the stream. "Are you gonna hurt me?" the girl finally whispered.