THE GLORY BUS 22 страница

Norman found Pamela by touch. He moved forward until her hair brushed his lips. Now he could whisper into her ear without being overheard.

‘Pamela. What Boots has just said. What do you think? ’

Pamela whispered back. ‘Could be the truth. It will be dark soon. They probably don’t want to risk leaving us, just in case we find a way out. ’

‘Stay here, I’ll take a look up the shaft. ’

‘Careful, Norman. Could be a trick. ’

Groping his way over rotting human carcasses, Norman made it back to the shaft. When he looked up he could see Boots with her halo of short blonde hair. She was looking down into the hole. From the way she didn’t react when he peeped up he guessed she couldn’t see him.

He couldn’t see much, either.

Just the entrance to the shaft. A few roof timbers above it. No actual roof. Streaks of red cloud in the sky.

Wait. . .

He could make out the inner rim of the entrance to the pit. Beneath that were the walls of the shaft. He could discern patches of gray rock. Also he could see something that made his stomach drop. An iron ladder was bolted to one of the walls. He couldn’t see how far it extended because just a few feet down from the surface the shaft walls were hidden by darkness.

But wanna bet the ladder comes all way down here?

Norman crawled back to Pamela.

‘Looks as if a ladder extends to the bottom of the shaft, ’ he whispered.

‘So Duke’s gonna follow us down. ’

Right on cue, Norman heard voices from above.

‘Pamela, ’ Norman hissed, ‘we’ve got to get away from here. ’

‘How? ’

‘Chances are this tunnel leads somewhere. ’

‘In the dark? Norman, we can’t see anything. ’

Norman’s mind whirled into action. Gotta think our way out. Find a solution.

A crash sounded from the bottom of the pit.

Too much to hope that Duke or Boots has fallen down. Nice thought, though.

‘Sounds like they’re dropping rocks to spook us into shouting out. ’ Norman touched Pamela’s bare arm. ‘Listen, these sacks full of stuff – there might be something in there that we can use. ’

Pamela’s doubting voice came from the darkness. ‘Like a gun, or a magic-carpet ride out of here? Get real, Norman. ’

‘Just look. There might be something. ’

‘Okay. It’s worth a try. ’

Norman heard the rustle of plastic as Pamela tore at the bags. He found one by touch and ripped it open.

Shoes. A comb? Clothes. A spectacle case? Hard to tell in the dark.

‘Try and search the pockets, ’ he told her.

‘I’m trying. . . it’s not easy in the dark. Ugh, I think I’ve found a pair of underpants here. Big ones. ’

‘A lady’s purse. Feels like lipsticks inside. But then, it could be rifle rounds. Shit, this is harder than I thought. ’

‘What are we looking for exactly, Norman? ’

‘I don’t know. I’m hoping we’ll know when we find it. ’

‘Great. ’

More crashes from the pit. Duke must have hefted some of the heavy machinery over the edge.

‘Probably hoping to squash us before he comes down, ’ Norman said. ‘Aw, crap. ’

‘What is it? ’

‘Thought it was a flashlight. It’s just a cellphone. ’

‘Pass it here. ’

‘Why? You’ll never get a signal down here. ’

‘Just pass it, will you, Norman? ’

‘I don’t know where it is now, ’ Norman confessed. ‘I just threw it to one side. ’

‘Find it. It might help. ’

‘You going to hit Duke with it? ’

‘No, don’t be ridiculous. Just find the phone, will you? ’

Norman searched through thighbones, rib cages, moldering assholes, discarded shoes, jackets – all by touch, then—

‘Here’s your phone, ’ he told Pamela. ‘For what good it is. ’

‘There might still be some charge in the battery—’

‘I don’t see what—’

‘There! ’

‘My God. ’

‘See? ’

‘Pamela. You’re a genius. ’

With a bleep, as she pressed the power button, the cellphone’s screen glowed a green-yellow. It wasn’t all that bright but it was enough.

Norman could see Pamela’s grinning face in the dim glow. He looked at the cellphone’s keypad and screen glowing in her hand. She moved the phone over the bottom of the tunnel.

The downside was that now they could see the decomposing arms, legs, torsos, hearts, lungs and spinal cords of dozens of men and women.

‘No wonder it stinks, ’ Pamela gulped. ‘These people are putrefying. ’

At the bottom of the pit shaft was a rounded mound of more bodies. Norman was beginning to think that the illuminated cellphone screen was brighter than he could have imagined when he realized that the light w

as coming from above.

Duke was coming down the ladder. He shone the flashlight down to make sure that no one below had an unpleasant surprise waiting for him.

‘Shit, ’ Norman breathed. ‘Here he comes. ’

‘Hang on – we can’t walk by the light of the cellphone. See? It goes off every few seconds. ’ Pamela pressed one of the keys. With a bleep the light came on again. But only for five seconds.

‘Shine the light on the bags. There’s got to be some matches here. ’

As quickly as they could they searched the plastic sacks by the feeble light of the phone.

‘Wait, ’ Pamela said. ‘You go through the bags, I’ll keep the light near your hands. ’

Now they worked together. Pamela helped Norman by repeatedly depressing a button to keep the cellphone screen glowing. When it was lit she held the device as close to his searching hands as possible.

‘Hurry up, Norman. . . I can hear him climbing down the ladder. ’

Now Norman could see drivers’ licenses, pens, combs, car keys, maps, travel itineraries, socks, women’s lingerie, novels, music-cassette tapes, spectacles. . . Then: Bingo!

‘Look. ’

‘A cigarette lighter, ’ Pamela said. ‘Does it work? ’

‘Here goes. ’

Norman rotated the wheel on the top with his thumb. A yellow flame popped from the metal casing. Norman saw that the lighter was a retro model, complete with a cannabis leaf printed on the side.

‘As far as I can tell, it’s full of lighter fuel, ’ he told her.

‘We’ve gotta risk taking that. Duke can’t be far away. ’

Norman kept the small flame burning as he stood up. To lift himself to his feet he pushed down on a torso, using the hand that held the lighter. The corpse was decomposing in style. There was no head. An oozing hole formed a cleft between the shoulders. The chest and belly were rounded with gas. Chest hairs stood on end. Even the belly button protruded. The dead body’s internal pressure must have been formidable.

The moment Norman pressed down on the bloated belly the torso farted through the neck hole.

A loud, rich raspberry of a fart.

An instant later the decomposition gas met the flame of the lighter. Norman flinched as a ball of fire rolled past his face, singeing his eyebrows.

Before the flame died it lit the tunnel in vivid detail. He saw the marks of miners’ picks on the walls. Saw the rails once used by the ore hoppers. They ran into the distance along a dead straight tunnel.

He saw Pamela’s startled face as the gas generated by putrefying internal organs flared off. Her face had a strained, tight look. A tightness that trembled. She was wet and shiny all over. Streaks of brown cadaver juice marked her cheeks.

Norman saw that when he’d dragged her over the edge of the abyss he’d torn her sweater. A rent reached down from her collar to her breastbone. It exposed the gleaming upper half of her breast. A smooth globe of perfection.

Norman’s flesh tingled. This time the snake venom wasn’t to blame.

When the release of inflammable gas had burned itself out she said, ‘Come on. He can’t be far from the bottom. ’

Pamela didn’t bother with the cellphone now. It was way too dim compared with the cigarette-lighter flame. Even so, she slipped it into the pocket of her shorts.

‘Just for reserve, ’ she told Norman.

Now they hurried as fast as they could along the old mine working. In the flicker of the lighter’s flame they could see timber supports, along with twin rails that were smothered with dust.

‘Gotta hope there’s another way out, ’ Norman told her.

‘Either there is, or we die trying. ’

‘Succinctly put. ’

A white light reflected from the stone walls.

‘Oh, God, ’ Pamela hissed. ‘He’s here. ’

Norman glanced back. They’d covered close on a hundred yards since leaving the bottom of the pit with its rich deposit of rotting body parts. Although Norman couldn’t see it now. All he saw was a dazzling mass of light.

Duke was aiming the flashlight straight at them.

Not only the flashlight.

A ricocheting bullet went screaming past them.

‘Nowhere to run to, old buddy. ’ Duke’s voice boomed along the tunnel. ‘If you stop running I’m gonna promise to make it painless. You won’t feel a thing. ’

Norman’s legs weakened. The snakebite was slowing him down again.

No. . . that’s not it. There’s another reason.

‘We’re running uphill, ’ he panted.

‘Could be a way out up ahead. ’

‘Pray God there is. ’

‘And Duke might be doing us a favor? ’ Pamela glanced at the lighter in Norman’s hand. ‘Kill it. ’

‘Right! Duke’s flashlight! ’

Norman snuffed the flame. Duke lit their way as well as his. Without having to worry about the lighter’s burning wick going out they could move faster.

Ahead, they could see an opening cut in the rock. The tunnel had branched into two.

‘Rockfall to the right, ’ Pamela said, breathless. ‘Go left. ’

This tunnel ran even more steeply uphill. After a few paces it opened into a gallery where miners had once worked the seams. Then they must have loaded the ore into wheeled trucks that ran under the force of gravity to the bottom of the shaft that Norman and Pamela had fallen into. There machinery would have hauled the ore to the surface.

The gallery that they’d entered had deep gray walls that glittered with speckles of ore.

‘Jeez. This is big enough to put a house in. ’ Pamela looked up, awed, at the high ceiling.

‘Yeah, but I wish they’d ventilated the place. I can hardly breathe. ’

‘It’ll be a buildup of gas. ’ Pamela too was struggling for breath.

Norman noticed the way her lips were growing pale. When she sucked in breath her breasts rose as her rib cage expanded. He saw the curve of them through the rip in the sweater.

‘We can’t wait here any longer, ’ Norman gasped. ‘Duke’s not far behind. See the light? ’

He was right. There was still no need to use the cigarette lighter. Duke’s flashlight sent a wash of white light into the miners’ gallery.

‘Gotta keep moving. ’ Pamela heaved in a lungful of toxic air. ‘Right. ’

They walked on. Running was impossible. The stone floor was humped in the middle. A seam of harder rock had forced the miners to dig upward before the obstacle dipped down again. It forced Norman and Pamela to walk up a steep incline before descending the other side. At the top of the mound Norman’s throat stung, his eyes watered.

When they’d passed the highest point he spluttered the words, ‘That’s where the gas was densest. ’

Pamela nodded. Her eyes streamed with tears.

Now they could hear footfalls.

Duke must be close.

All they could do was continue. The spacious gallery narrowed back to a tunnel. They followed the tracks into the gloom.

When they reached an old ore cart on the tracks Pamela stopped her companion.

‘Norman, ’ she said, ‘I’ve got an idea. ’

Chapter Fifty-three

Norman stared at the miners’ ore truck as it sat on the rails. A wedge-shaped block of wood had been forced under a rusty iron wheel to stop the truck running away. Probably done by the last miner to walk out of here eighty years ago.

Norman gasped for air. His leg hurt where the rattler venom still saturated the muscle tissue. Even his hand tingled where Priest, the crazed cannibal, had chewed on it.

At last he found the breath to speak. ‘Pamela, I hope you’re gonna tell me we can get in that thing and ride outta here. ’

‘Nope. . . the tunnel runs uphill. If we climb in the truck and get it rolling it’ll take us right to Duke. ’

Norman glanced back down toward the gallery. The flashlight was growing brighter. ‘Well. . . Duke. . . Duke’s getting closer all the time. ’ He licked his dry lips. ‘What’s the plan? ’

‘Give me your shirt. ’

‘Huh? ’

‘Your shirt. Quickly! ’

From the bottom of the tunnel Duke sang out: ‘Fee, fi, fo, fum, I smell the blood of a college bum. ’ The guy laughed. A mad-sounding laugh.

Kind of laugh you make as you slice someone into pieces.

‘Norman? Shirt! ’

‘Okay, okay. ’ Norman ripped off his shirt without bothering to undo its buttons. Quickly she tied the shirt to the front of the ore-hopper truck, around the iron device that would have hooked into the next truck in line.

‘Lighter. ’ Pamela held out her hand.

Norman handed it to her.

She rolled the metal wheel to ignite the wick. Then she held the blue flame to Norman’s shirt. With a crackle it started to burn.

‘Great, ’ he gasped. ‘You’ve tied my shirt to a truck. You’ve set it alight. Now what? ’

‘Kick the wedge out from under the wheel. ’

‘Anything to please a lady. ’ Norman was light-headed now. These actions made no sense to him. But he did as Pamela asked anyway. With a few kicks he knocked clear the timber wedge that acted as a brake.

‘Norman, stand back! ’

He stood back against the tunnel wall, out of the way.

Nothing happened.

‘The axles will be rusted, ’ he told Pamela. ‘It’s stuck. . . stuck like shit to a baby. ’

‘Norman! ’ Duke called. ‘What you doing playing with rusty trucks, bud? Gonna cut yourself. ’

Norman couldn’t see Duke properly but he guessed the man had just entered the section of tunnel that contained Pamela, himself and the truck. The resolutely stationary truck.

Pamela hissed, ‘Get behind it. Push! ’

‘You really think it’s gonna run him down? ’

‘Just get this truck rolling, Norman. ’

He limped behind the truck to help Pamela who had her shoulder against the hopper. He helped her to push.

Through clenched teeth Norman panted, ‘Wouldn’t we be better running away. . . rather than doing this? ’

‘We can’t outrun the guy. He’s armed. We’re not. This is our last hope. ’

‘Gee, some hope. ’

‘Get it moving before the shirt burns out. ’

‘Like that makes perfect sense. ’

‘Listen to me. When you set fire to the gas pooping out of that body earlier – it was methane gas. A by-product of putrefaction. �

� �

‘So? ’

‘Methane. It’s odorless, colorless. It’s lighter than air. . . uh, come on, it’s starting to move. ’

The truck’s wheels squealed as they turned for the first time in decades.

‘Norman? ’ Duke’s voice. ‘You playing with matches up there? I can see somethin’ burning. ’

‘Methane’s inflammable, ’ Pamela gasped.

‘Why didn’t we blow up when you set fire to the shirt? ’

‘’Cos of the hump in the gallery floor down there. Remember when we couldn’t breathe? Methane’s gathered in a pocket where the floor of the mine rises up in that hump. ’

‘From all those rotting bodies? ’

‘Yup, those dead people are a regular gas factory. ’

‘It’s going! ’ Norman cried out as the wheels unstuck themselves and began to roll. Axles shrieked. He straightened to see the truck moving faster and faster downhill toward the light source that was Duke’s flashlight. The thunder of iron wheels against the track was almost deafening.

‘Get back against the tunnel sides! ’ Pamela shouted above the racket of the runaway ore truck. ‘Cover your ears with your hands. Keep your mouth open; otherwise the shock wave will pop your eardrums. ’

Shock wave? Sounded as if the truck with Norman’s burning shirt tied to the front was about to go nuclear.

The rumble of the truck receded. Then came Duke’s scornful laughter.

‘You really thought you could run Duke down with that heap of junk! Man, you’ve gotta try harder than that! ’

The rattle of wheels faded.

The sense of anticlimax nearly caused Norman to weep.

All that effort! For what? Jesus, we would have been better—

Norman didn’t so much hear the explosion.

All he really remembered was a blue light of such intensity that he could still see it when his eyes were tight shut. Then he was flying through the air. Then he was lying with something soft on top of him.

There was darkness. He seemed to be breathing dust.

Jeez. At least he was breathing.

The darkness seemed to last a long time. Norman was too dazed to do much except lie there.

After a spell he heard a noise in the stillness. An electronic bleep.

A green face floated in front of his.

‘Are you all right, Norman? ’

‘Pamela? ’

‘Yeah, sorry, I seem to be lying on top of you. ’

‘Believe me, that ain’t a problem. ’

Pamela moved the cellphone so that she could reveal a little of their surroundings.

They couldn’t see much. Dust misted the air. With the light of the cellphone it created an eerie, greenish fog.

‘Duke, ’ Norman said. ‘If we’re in one piece, then—’

‘Relax, ’ Pamela told him. ‘When your burning shirt detonated the methane you could say truthfully that Duke sorta went to pieces. ’

The light on the phone went out again.

She pressed another key.

Bleep.

The light came on. Norman saw bits of Duke. Big bits. Small bits. Charred bits. Bloody bits. His head lay in the center of the tunnel, looking back at them. He still wore his disdainful sneer, the lip curling up. Only there was no body.

‘Appears as if Duke’s gone to the bad-boy convention in the sky. ’

‘Yup. ’ Pamela smiled. ‘Duke. RIP. Rest in pieces. ’

They stood up. Dusted each other down. Norman had had the good sense earlier to replace the lighter in his pocket. He lit it again.

‘Okay, ’ he announced. ‘Let’s find the exit. ’

Chapter Fifty-four

When Norman stepped out of the mine’s ventilation shaft it was night. Even so, he saw the light.

Not that he was suddenly overcome by the sweet love and boundless mercy of Almighty God.

Nor any revelation concerning Jesus, Buddha or Shiva.

No.

Norman saw Pits in the moonlight below him, and then he saw ‘the light’ of his own personal revelation. He thought: Duke’s gone. I’m still here. I’m going to take over.

That town is mine.

Pamela said, ‘Take care where’s you’re stepping, Norman. This path runs right along the edge of the cliff. ’

‘Don’t worry, ’ he told her. ‘After what happened tonight I’ve gotta be indestructible. ’

‘I wouldn’t push your luck. That’s a sheer drop. ’

Norman felt good. Duke was dead. Boots wouldn’t be a problem. This moon was so bright that he could clearly see the narrow path that hugged the edge of the cliff. He glanced down to his left. The rock face plunged down maybe a hundred feet to a scree of rubble at the bottom. Probably old mine waste thrown out of the shafts that pockmarked the hillside here. In the distance a coyote howled in the hills. Some animal part of Norman howled back.

A desire that was nothing less than wolfish began to burn in his belly. He stopped. Glanced back at Pamela who was following him along the narrow path.

She looks good by moonlight. Skin glows silver. Hair like gold.

He saw her bare shoulder where her sweater had been torn open earlier when he’d pulled her into the mine shaft so that they could escape Boots and Duke. That bare shoulder burned in the moonlight. Norman burned inside.

He wanted her.

Hell, he’d earned her. He’d every right to take Pamela for his own. After all, Duke had promised Norman that he could have her first, hadn’t he?

‘Norman? ’ Pamela’s voice wavered, as if she’d seen something in his expression that worried her. ‘Norman, we need to go to the house and free my friends. Then we’ve got to find Boots. She’s still armed, remember? ’

‘Me and you, ’ he breathed.

‘Me and you what? ’ She tried to smile as if he was joking. In the bright moonlight he saw clearly enough that the smile died on her face.

‘Me and you, ’ Norman whispered again. ‘King and Queen of Pits. ’

‘King and Queen of Pits? What on Earth are you talking about, Norman? ’

‘Pamela, don’t you see? We’ve got brains. We’re brighter than the other bozos who live here. We could take over here. ’

He stared at her as she stood with the rocky hills bathed in moonlight behind her. A shooting star streaked through the heavens like an omen.

Pamela was stunned for moment. Couldn’t speak. Then, ‘Norman, you’re not being rational. Why should we want to take over Pits? They’re nice people here, they saved my—’

‘Pamela, listen. We can do it. There are guns in my trailer. We can force Lauren, Nicki and the rest to do what we want. We can live here like royalty. ’

‘Norman, the shock of that explosion must have confused you. You’re sounding crazy. You’re talking like. . . ’ She paused.

‘Like Duke? ’ He felt a smile spread across his face. ‘Yeah, you could say I inherited the Dukedom. ’

‘Norman, you don’t know what you’re saying. ’

‘Pamela, come with me. We can rule together. ’

‘Norman – no! ’

She turned to walk away from him.

At that moment Norman couldn’t say if he went crazy, or revealed his real character that had been hidden for years, or whether the spirit of bad boy Duke really did ghost through his flesh to take control of his brain. But he snarled.

Lunged at Pamela.

Grabbed hold of her.

‘Once you’ve been with me, ’ he grunted in her face, ‘you won’t want anyone else. Other men will seem like a heap of wet rags compared to me! ’

‘Norman. You are crazy! You’re a nobody who got hooked up with two weirdos. They’ve sent you insane. ’

‘Nobody? I’m not a nobody. Listen, Pamela. ’ He held his hands up in front of her face, the fingers splayed. ‘I’ve killed men with these bare hands. Today I killed Terry. ’

‘Terry. . . you killed him? ’ Pamela shook her head in horror. ‘I don’t believe you. ’

‘I cra

cked his skull like a nut. I can show you where I left the body. ’

‘Please, Norman, come down to the trailer. You’ve got to lie down and rest. ’

‘I’m gonna lie down, all right. With you! ’ He grabbed hold of her sweater again. Started tugging.

Pamela tried to pull away. She put one foot over the edge of the cliff. Her leg swung a hundred feet above jagged stones.

Norman gripped her arms and dragged her back onto the path.

‘See? ’ he told her. ‘I’ve just gone and saved your life all over again. You owe me a blood debt now. ’

She struggled. ‘Norman, please. ’

He twisted her round so that he could hug her from behind. In a parody of a dance move he embraced her, his chest pressing against her back, his head jutting forward so that he could press his cheek against hers.

‘Pamela. You see Pits down there, all shining and beautiful in the moonlight? That’s ours now. Our Dukedom. ’

‘You’re holding me too tight. . . I can hardly breathe. ’

‘In a minute I’m going to undress you. Then I’m going to make love to you – right here on the path overlooking the town that we’re going to own. ’

‘No! ’

Pamela struggled. Kicked back with her heel.

Norman laughed. He grabbed her sweater where it was torn. He pulled. The gash in the fabric opened wider, ripping, exposing the upper part of her breast.

This’s gonna be good. . . real good. His heart thudded. His groin tingled. He could even hear Duke’s voice inside his head urging him on. ‘Way to go, Normy, old buddy. Nail her for me. Screw her so hard she can’t walk for a week. ’

‘Norman, please don’t do this. . . please! ’

Then a calm voice. ‘Pamela’s right, Norman. ’

‘Uh. . . ’

Norman looked up at the boulders on the hillside. A figure was standing there. Norman blinked. Moonlight played tricks with his vision. For the human figure appeared to have wings that jutted from its side.

‘Sharpe. ’ This was Pamela crying out in relief. ‘Sharpe, thank God. ’

‘Sharpe. That really you? ’ Norman asked. Suddenly his sense of macho power vanished. His legs felt rubbery.

Easily now, Pamela wriggled free of him.

She moved to one side until she stood maybe ten feet from Norman.

Meanwhile, Norman stared at the man with the wings. It was Sharpe standing there in the moonlight. Norman blinked. Looked harder.

No. Those weren’t wings. Sharpe stood with his hands on his hips. Moonlight and shadows did the rest to create the illusion of angel wings jutting out from either side of his torso.

‘Norman, you were hurting Pamela. No real man would force himself on a woman. ’

‘I wasn’t, ’ Norman protested. He stared up at Sharpe’s face veiled by shadow. His flat-top haircut made his head look almost square in silhouette. His white short-sleeved shirt seemed to glow with its own light in the radiance of the moon.

Sharpe was motionless.

Sharpe was calm.

And Norman sensed that Sharpe had passed judgment on him.

Norman’s heart pounded in his chest. ‘You’re going to kill me, aren’t you? ’

‘Worse, ’ Sharpe said.

‘Worse? What can be worse than killing me! ’

‘I’m gonna put you on my bus, then I’m going to take you home to your family. And then I’m going to stand there while you confess to your mother and father all the bad things you’ve done. ’

‘No, you can’t. . . you can’t! ’ Norman’s voice rose in a scream as he imagined the scenario.

Him.

Quaking there in the living room. Admitting to his mother and father how he had killed the cops. How he had killed Terry.

Then had tried to rip off Pamela’s clothes.

Oh, Jesus. No way.

Guilt came in dark, sickening waves. Remorse was as bitter as bile rising in his throat.

He had to escape. He couldn’t let Sharpe take him back home to face that kind of shame.

Norman turned, ran.

Ran blindly. Straight over the edge of the cliff.

Fell.

Fell a long, long way.

The cool night air rushed past him. In the moonlight he saw the ground come speeding upward to meet his falling body.

I’ll be fine, Norman told himself. Sharpe will save me. Sharpe’s got wings. . .

Then he remembered that the wings he’d seen were a trick of the moonlight. Just an illusion.

Not like those hard rocks just seconds away.

Norman wanted to cry.

But he didn’t have time.

Chapter Fifty-five

Appetizers

Pits enjoyed its celebration party.

Its inhabitants’ personal thanksgiving that the danger to them was over.

All the people of Pits had turned out. All seven of them. Sharpe, Priest (in his wheelchair), Lauren, Nicki, Wes, Hank and Pamela.

They lit a big fire under the summer stars where they flame-cooked delicate little blood sausages as an appetizer for the main course. Then Lauren broiled steaks on the barbecue. In tubs of ice were about a hundred bottles of beer and sodas of different varieties.

‘You ready for your steak, Wes? ’ Lauren asked.

‘Could eat a horse, ’ he replied.

‘Horse is one thing that isn’t on the menu. ’

Wes sat beside Pamela at a long wooden table. Sitting opposite were Nicki and Sharpe, who had a space beside him for Lauren. Priest sat at one end, his bald head gleaming like a silver dome in the firelight.

At the other end at the head of the table – in his rightful place as mayor – was Hank, looking quite the gent in his best Stetson. Everyone was in good spirits. All were having fun.

Just one week ago the madness had ended.

Of course, this might be another kind of madness, Pamela thought. But it’s a peaceful, well-ordered madness. A happy madness.

After Pamela and Sharpe had walked down from the cliff top that had claimed Norman’s life they’d circled round the hill to Boots, who had still been guarding the pit shaft, gun in hand. Sharpe had distracted her while Pamela had introduced the pig-girl’s head to a piece of lumber. The hard way.

When Boots woke up she was almost relieved that Pamela had survived. She was full of optimism for a future without Duke and Norman.

‘I always thought they was gonna be trouble, ’ she’d confided.

‘How’s the steak? ’ Pamela asked with a wink. ‘Tough as old boots? ’

‘Hey, I heard that, ’ Lauren protested as she sat down beside Sharpe.

‘Only kidding. ’

‘You know, ’ Wes said, ‘it really does taste like pork. ’ He smacked his lips in appreciation of the meat’s flavor.

Priest sang out, ‘Now, didn’t I always tell everyone? You’ve not lived until you’ve eaten your fellow man – or, in this case, woman. ’

Hank raised his bottle of beer in a toast.

‘Haw! Here’s to Boots. A woman who can satisfy the inner man. ’

They all hoisted their bottles. ‘Boots! ’ Spontaneous applause broke out around the table.

Meanwhile, Boots, or what little remained of her, sizzled over the hot coals of the barbecue.

Entrees

A week after the meal that’d had Boots as dish of the day there was another celebration when Hank did his rightful duty as mayor and conducted a marriage ceremony for which the good people of Pits had been waiting for a long time. Across the town’s two main buildings – the gas station and the cafe – hung banners that announced:

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