Cool Hand Read Free Page B

This one little guy was my save.
    “You’re safe now,” I said, talking slowly. “I’m here to help you, and we can walk out of here together just as soon as you’re ready. Everything will be fine.”
    Had his terrified stare relaxed just a bit?
    Did he understand what I was saying, or was it just the tone?
    I said it again, in Spanish. Nothing.
    “Hablo español como una gringa,” I said with a smile.
    The tiniest nod.
    Progress.
    There was more noise, and his eyes looked fearfully over my shoulder.
    “De nada,” I said. “Estás a salvo.” It’s nothing. You’re safe.
    He was trying to see what was happening on the altar. I could hear Elizabetta and Bian. Was there some triumph in their voices? Could they stitch the girl up and save her? How much blood had she lost?
    When he stretched his neck, I could see the scars. Some old, some partly healed, looking red and sore. Some fresh.
    My jaw clenched.
    He whimpered and I realized my face had gone bleak as a rock. I screwed it up and tried blowing out a breath to relax my expression.
    “Not you. The people who did that to you.” I pointed at him and then touched my neck. “Matlal. They’re dead. Todos muertos. They can’t hurt you now.”
    He shook his head—a short, violent motion. He understood some of that.
    So what did he mean, shaking his head? What would he be thinking?
    I was going to get him out, but I wanted to do it without touching him. He’d been touched enough by the Matlal.
    How to manage it?
    His mouth worked, but the sound was too distorted.
    “Say again?” I said, leaning closer.
    “K…kill me,” he stuttered, his accent thick.
    He was still frightened. I bit my lip. Maybe he thought we hadn’t gotten all the Matlal.
    “They can’t kill you. They’re gone. You can come with us and we’ll protect you.” I looked at his thin body. “We’ll take you to get some food. You like burgers?” His eyes went round again. “Tacos? Milkshake?”
    That seemed to have registered. Maybe I was getting through to him. I had a moment of wondering whether he had ever tasted a milkshake or a burger. What had they fed him on? Did he remember anything from before Matlal? Where had he come from? Had he been stolen from his parents?
    Too many questions, and none I could ask him yet.
    At least I was getting some kind of response.
    What else did eight-year-old kids like?
    “We’ll take you to a place where they have toys and games. You know, like video games? You can play. Would you like to play video games?”
    There was definitely a reaction to that. He knew what a video game was. Maybe House Matlal had let them play games in between feeding sessions.
    There was shouting behind me and he flinched. If anything, he seemed to trying to squeeze himself deeper into the cramped space.
    More shouting, louder now.
    What the hell is going on?
    I stood up and turned around.
    “Hey guys,” I said. “Keep it down—I’ve got a scared kid here.”
    “Amber!” David shouted as he rounded the base of the pyramid and ran towards me, one hand stretched out as if he were trying to warn me or stop me from doing something.
    And that was the moment when the kid came out from the cabinet and stabbed me with his damn screwdriver.
     

Chapter 3
     
    THURSDAY
     
    “It’s not funny.”
    The more I insisted, the funnier everyone thought it was, until I had to start laughing as well.
    There was more than a little hysteria in some of the laughter.
    We’d killed the Matlal. Regardless of the fact that they deserved it for what they’d been doing, it wasn’t something to be dismissed and shrugged off.
    We’d saved the children, every one of them that’d been alive when we hit the ranch, even the poor kid on the altar.
    And we’d taken no casualties, except for one stupid bitch who’d managed to get herself stabbed in the butt with a screwdriver.
    Yes, all in all, a success. But all of us would remember the streaks on the altar at the top of the pyramid.
    If