“Not tight,” Heather said. “Matt agreed to that.”
“Matt’s soft,” Jacko said, and, looking deliberately at her, he slowly tightened the noose around Olivia’s neck so that she began to choke. Olivia tried to get a finger between the rope and her throat but it was already taut.
“Please!” Heather said. “Don’t!”
“Ma said make sure you’re all secure,” Jacko said.
“She didn’t say kill us!” Heather protested.
“She’s not dead. She’s as snug as a bug in a rug. Aren’t you, darling?”
“It hurts,” Olivia said, gasping.
“Please,” Heather said.
“I like it when you say please like that. Say it again,” Jacko said.
“Please, she’s just a little girl.”
Jacko shook his head. “Nah, she’s a woman now. Will be when Danny’s done with her, anyway,” he muttered.
“I’m a woman,” Heather said. “Please, leave her.”
Jacko nodded. “You are a woman, aren’t you?” he said, loosening the noose around Olivia’s neck. Olivia gasped for air in big gulps. Jacko padded across the shearing shed. He brushed the remaining strands of hair back on his head and grinned a yellow jackal smile.
He crouched down in front of Heather and looked at her. “A young one too—how old are you? Younger than him by a country mile.”
“I’m twenty-four,” Heather said.
“Twenty-four, eh? Well, twenty-four, it’s either you or her. What’s it gonna be?”
“Those aren’t your orders,” Heather said desperately.
“Orders? Nobody gives me orders. I don’t have any orders!” He laughed. “You’re already dead, sweetheart. All of you. Or haven’t you been paying attention?”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean orders. Ma just asked you to lock us in here. You heard her. She’s going to sleep on what to do with us.”
“She can sleep for a thousand years for all I care. Now, sweetie, as lovely as this little chat has been, your job now is making a choice. Who’s it going to be? You or your little blond daughter over there?”
Heather’s throat was dry. Her head was swimming. “Please, you don’t have to do this,” Heather said.
“Yeah, I like it when you say please, all American-like, but the time for talk is done. You or her? Ten seconds.”
“Matt said—”
“Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three—”
“Me,” she said.
“That’s what I thought,” Jacko said. “Now, be a good girl and take it out.”
Owen was staring at her. Both kids looked horrified, terrified. Owen didn’t even know about his dad yet.
“Owen, Olivia, I want you both to close your eyes. Owen, pull that hood back over your head too. Eyes shut tight both of you.”
Owen pulled the hood over his head. Olivia shut her eyes tight. Neither of them, she hoped, knew what was about to happen next. Jacko’s jeans were originally blue but they were so encrusted with filth they had turned a reddish black. He was grinning. The rifle was strapped over his back.
She looked at him.
He mind-read her. “Now, don’t you do nothing silly, Heather,” he said. “’Cause you know what’ll happen to you and you know what will happen to her.”
She was tempted to smash him in the balls with her tied hands. She could probably give him a pretty painful whack, but then what? He would break her face and then he would rape Olivia.
She reached up to his fly and tugged at it. It was so coated with grime and rust that she couldn’t get it down.
“You can do better than that, Heather,” Jacko said. She tried harder but the fly would not come down.
“I don’t think it’s had much practice,” she said.
“I hope for your sake you’re not trying to smart-mouth me, little girl,” Jacko said. He took a step back, undid his belt and zipper, and pulled his pants down. Just then the door opened and Matt was standing there with the Dutch couple.
“What in the name of living shit is this?” Matt said.
“None of your bloody business, mate,” Jacko replied. “Come back in ten minutes!”
“Like hell I will. Get out of here.”
“Says who?”
Matt slung the rifle off his shoulder and pointed it at Jacko. “Says me, arsehole.”
“You do that and you’ll be in here with them,” Jacko snarled.