The guy managing the donkey dropped the lead rope and fell to the victim’s side. “Robert! Robert! Stay with us.”
The first soldier yelled, “You just killed one of our men!”
Marcellious sneered. “You think I give a fuck who I just killed?”
He lunged and stabbed that guy in the stomach before the soldier could pull the trigger.
I stood stunned as the soldier staggered and fell to the ground. Marcellious had spoken in perfect English.
What the hell?
The two remaining soldiers cocked their weapons. Then, the guy who’d knelt to deal with Robert rose and grabbed the donkey’s rope.
“Don’t move, or we’ll shoot,” a guy with a bandage tied around his head said. Dried blood stained the cloth.
“What are we waiting for? Shoot ‘em through the skull right now, Clayton,” a dirty-haired blond guy said. “They killed our men!”
“Our captain will want to come to a decision about their well-being.” Clayton let out a heh-heh-heh kind of chuckle.
Oh, this wasn’t good. Not at all. But maybe it would buy me some time to develop a plan.
“Fuck the captain.” Dirty Blond took aim and fired at Marcellious.
The bullet whizzed through his shoulder and sent Marcellious flying to the ground.
The donkey reared up on its hind legs. Pots, pans, and other supplies hanging on his back clattered and clanged.
“Easy, Peaches,” said the guy with the rope, trying to calm the poor creature down.
“Amos!” Clayton yelled. “Stand down.”
“I’m with him. I say we take the bastards out,” the donkey holder said.
I glanced at Marcellious. He was awfully still, sprawled on the ground, eyes shut. Should I assist him? I didn’t want these soldiers to think I was in league with Marcellious since he’d already killed two of their men.
“Tie him up,” Clayton said, indicating me.
Amos turned to the guy holding the donkey’s rope and said, “Steven, toss me a rope, will ya?”
Steven strode to the donkey’s side and procured a rope which he tossed to Amos.
Amos yanked my arms behind my back and trussed them tight. I had to think, not resist. I was outnumbered, and these men had guns.
“What about this guy?” he said, indicating Marcellious.
“Is he still alive?” Clayton said.
Amos toed Marcellious with his boot.
Marcellious let out a wheezing groan.
“Yep. Should I finish him off?” Amos said.
“No. Let’s lift him up and drape him over Peaches.”
Clayton, Amos, and Steven lifted Marcellious and maneuvered him atop the donkey.
And then we were off, trekking through this endless forest in God only knew where to a destination unknown.
