They released Lee’s arms. Facing Stryker, she said, “Now you let go of Dwight.”
Stryker’s teeth showed. They were as white as Lee’s shorts.
“Giving me orders?” he asked. But his hand dropped away from my arm.
I almost took off to go after Rusty, but changed my mind. With half a dozen of Stryker’s gang spread out close behind us, I wouldn’t have gotten far.
“We want Rusty back,” Lee said.
“I’m afraid he was seriously injured in the competition, but we’ll see that he gets proper attention.”
“We’ll take care of him,” Lee said.
“He’s already being looked after.”
“We’ll look after him.”
“Where is he?” I demanded.
Stryker’s head turned toward me. By the way the white showed, he was obviously smiling. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” he said.
“Yes!”
He chuckled.
Lee took hold of my hand. “Come on, Dwight.”
“We can’t leave without Rusty!”
“Come on.” Her voice was firm.
I had an urge to jerk my hand from her grip and refuse to leave, but then I realized she probably had a plan. Lee wasn’t a quitter.
Maybe she figured we should leave peacefully, then double back and spy on the gang.
Or maybe the plan was to hurry into town and come back with the police. My dad was in the hospital, but Grandville still had a police department of sorts. If necessary, they could bring reinforcements from the county sheriff and even the state troopers. We could come back in force and rescue Rusty.
“Let them go,” Stryker ordered.
His gang spread out.
As we walked away from them, I looked over at the parking area. The structure of the bleachers blocked some of my view. So did the BEER—SNACKS—SOUVENIRS shack. But I could see plenty of Janks Field, anyway.
Just about the only people still wandering around over there appeared to be members of Stryker’s crew. Equipped with flashlights, they were busy directing traffic. From the look of things, they’d been doing a good job. Though a few cars and pickups sat motionless as if abandoned, the field was mostly empty. A line of vehicles inched toward the mouth of the dirt road.
Not an ambulance among them.
No sign of Rusty, either.
“What’re we gonna do?” I asked.
“I’m not sure,” Lee said.
“We can’t just leave Rusty.”
“I know.”
“I don’t think they’re sending him to a hospital. Or the others, either. I haven’t even seen an ambulance.”
“Ambulances couldn’t get out of here, anyway,” Lee pointed out.
When we rounded the end of the bleachers, I had a clear view of Janks Field. I spotted Lee’s pickup truck, the disabled Cadillac and a couple of other cars. And then I heard the jangle of spurs behind us.
Something seemed to crumple inside me. “Uh-oh,” I muttered.
“Lee! Dwight!”
We stopped and turned around.
“What is it that you want?” Stryker asked, sounding almost as if he’d forgotten. But you could tell by his voice that he was playing with us.
“Rusty,” Lee said. “We just want Rusty.”
“How badly?” In a solemn voice, Lee asked, “What’ve you got in mind?”
“You give me what I want, I give you what you want.”
“And what is it that you want?” Lee asked.
“You and Valeria. Five minutes.”
“What?”
“In the cage.”
“You want me to fight her?”
“That’s the idea.”
“Why? The show’s over. Everybody’s gone.”
“Not everybody.” Stryker placed a hand on his own chest. “I love a good contest of strength and will. Frankly, I feel cheated. The show usually goes on for a couple of hours, at least.” He shrugged elaborately. “It was especially disappointing that our only challengers were men. I love to see an attractive woman take on Valeria. Warms the cockles of my heart.”
Lightning flashed again. All I noticed was Stryker’s dripping, grinning face.
When the darkness returned, he said, “Take her on. I know you’ll give us a great show.”
I pulled at Lee’s hand. “Let’s get out of here.”
She stayed put. “What if I don’t win?” she asked.
“If you don’t win, my dear, Valeria will suck your blood.”