Page 9 of The Hangman's Rope
When the doors opened, I gasped and shrank back. Hangman’s arms tightening around me reminded me that there wasn’t exactly any place I could run to.
“Man, fuckoff,Reaper. You’ve done enough for one night,” Hangman said tempestuously, and the man I’d woken up to with his cock in my hand quickly stepped aside with the grace to at least, I think, look embarrassed.
“Sorry,” he muttered as Hangman walked me past him. I didn’t say anything, my cheeks flaming and my teeth clenched.
Hangman hurried me past him and through the front end of what was probably a really nice funeral home. I mean, it looked nice, but I couldn’t even remember my own name let alone if I had ever been in one before. I don’t think I had…
“I mean it,” Hangman said, a note of caution in his voice. “Don’t try and rabbit on me. I will catch you and I promise, I’mnot trying to hurt you. I’m trying to help you. You run, and I can’t make any more promises.”
“I won’t run,” I said faintly.
I was having enough trouble walking, even with his help.
I stumbled over the threshold of the doors leading outside, and he caught me, stopping to steady me.
“Easy now,” he said.
“My legs feel fine but it’s like I can’t tell them to work or the signal is interrupted or something. I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” I said, voice trembling.
“Just take it easy, one foot in front of the other. That’s it,” he encouraged.
“Aren’t you afraid someone will see us out here?” I asked.
“Yes and no,” he said. “It’s not far, and not many people drive through here at this time. The cemetery is closed and the tourists have all fucked off. Not a lot of houses on this stretch, either.”
His words chilled me in a way that even the sultry night couldn’t fix.
“That’s not very comforting,” I said as I gingerly picked my way across the asphalt of the roundabout drive-in front of the funeral home, past a very nice, very antique, gleaming white hearse.
“It’s not meant to be comforting. It’s just the truth. Still, we aren’t going to linger so let’s pick up the pace.” He wasn’t overtly demanding in his tone, but still, I knew he meant business. I tried my best, I really did, but everything felt soweird. Like I was telling my body to put one foot in front of the other but it was like the thought and the action were miles apart. Just as soon as I told my foot to raise, I was telling it to fall, but it hadn’t even left the ground yet.
“Easy, okay, this isn’t working and we gotta move. Put your arms around me.”
“What?” I asked, alarmed, but it was too late. He’d already stooped, catching me behind the knees with one arm and grunting as he lifted me. I tangled my arms around his shoulders and neck as he picked up his pace and made large strides down the street which had no sidewalks.
“Please don’t drop me!” I cried when his boot hit a scatter of loose gravel and sent it skittering across the blacktop.
He snorted. “I’m not going to drop you. I’ve carried rucksacks on miles worth of marches heavier than you.”
“Does that mean you were in the military?” I asked, my brain making the connection but for whatever reason, Istillcouldn’t tell you who I was, what I did for a living, where I lived or any of it. It’s like it just wasn’t there!
“Forget about it,” he said and his voice was clipped. Not as though he was tired, but more a clear indication he didn’t want to talk about it. I wasn’t about to poke the bear.
Hell, I would have preferred a bear to this. At least a bear’s behavior was predictable.
I tried not to snort a laugh at the thought but failed.
“What’s so funny?” he asked.
“I was just thinking I was curious, but that I didn’t want to poke the bear, you know? Then I thought the bear would be preferable to any of this. I mean, at least the bear is predictable, you know?”
“Lemme take the guesswork out of it, as though I haven’t said it like a half a dozen times by this point. No one’s going to hurt you. I get it, you’re scared, but has anyone hurt you yet?”
“I mean, I woke up… and I think I hurt your friend but, ah, what would you call that?” I asked pointedly.
He stopped, looked at me, and said gently, “Fair point.”
“Then that other one threatened to lock me in some crypt,” I whispered.
