Finn had kept a hatchet that he'd found in the shed of the house where they'd stayed and he now carried it in his belt. It came in use whenever they needed to chop firewood every night, but could also be used as a weapon should the need ever come. And, one afternoon a week after they left the house, the need did come.
The bandits were a rugged lot; scruffy, skinny, mangy. A permanent growl etched into their faces. They carried weapons that ranged from metal baseball bats to 12-gauge rifles, one or two of them swinging deadly chains from their fingers like whips.
When Noah had spotted the small mob – about six men – he had immediately ushered Tina into the woods near the road, crouching down behind a pile of old fallen trees. Finn had snatched up Summer and followed. They lie waiting for the bandits to pass, none of them daring to make a sound. Summer was held tightly in Tina's arms while Noah and Finn both drew their guns, Finn holding the hatchet tightly in his other hand. Their hearts skipped a beat when they heard one of the bandits claim he had to take a piss. He wandered off the cracked asphalt, unzipping and carelessly letting out a stream of stinking liquid that steamed when it hit the frozen ground.
Summer let out a whimper, and the bandit stopped, taking a pistol out of his belt. His eyes narrowed, his nostrils flared, sniffing. He took a few steps forward.
When he saw them, he grinned. Well, lookee what we got here.
Finn cocked his gun.
I don't want any trouble, said the bandit, smiling with grey teeth. He didn't put the pistol away. He peered closer until he had a view of all four of them. Well, you folks are a regular family. That lil girl looks hungry.
Don't look at her, Finn snarled, his revolver aiming for the bandit's forehead. You look at me. No one else.
The bandit held up his hands. Okay, okay.
You look at her again and I'll kill you.
I heard you the first time.
Turn around and go back to your friends. Don't come back. You all keep walking.
Hey, I don't want any trouble.
Sure you don't.
The bandit narrowed his eyes at the two men, evaluating. Okay, he said. He lifted his pistol and a loud crack roared through the woods. The wood next to Tina's head exploded. Summer screamed, and Finn and Noah simultaneously fired back. The bandit ducked for cover, but not fast enough as the shot from Noah's gun caught him in the thigh. He screamed and fell. The other five bandits ran up the hill, taking out their guns, their clubs, their knives and chains. Finn shot one of them in the head, Noah got another in the chest, and they fell where they stood. One of the remaining bandits jumped down and grabbed Tina by the neck, making her lose her grip on Summer. She shrieked and clawed and kicked at him, but then he pulled out a knife and she froze. Noah aimed his gun for her attacker, but suddenly a chain dropped into his vision and he was yanked back as it tightened around his neck. He dropped his gun, gasping for air as the cold metal bit into his skin, and Finn laid the sharp side of the hatchet against the chainman's neck while aiming his revolver at the man who had a hold on Tina.
Let them go.
Then the nose of the rifle belonging to the third bandit pressed into Finn's temple. Arms up, he ordered. Both of them. Now.
Finn didn't move. He looked down at Summer, who was curled up on the ground, crying and waiting for him to do…something. Anything. Whatever was necessary.
Daddy, she cried, her face grimy and smudged with dirt and ash and tears.
If Tina had blinked, she would not have seen Finn's pistol arm whip back and knock the rifle out of the hands of the third bandit before he spun around and embedded the hatchet in the side of the bandit's skull. Noah's captor lifted the chain, leaving Noah to collapse on the ground, coughing and gasping for air. The chainman swung the chain towards Finn's head, whipping him upside the ear. Finn let out a yell as a spurt of blood wound its way down his neck. Noah pulled himself to his feet, grabbing his gun and slamming the butt into the back of the chainman's head with a wet-sounding crack. The chainman fell and didn't get up. Noah turned and pointed the gun at Tina's attacker.
Get your hands off her.
The last bandit raised his hands, taking the knife away from Tina's throat. Okay, okay. Calm down.
Don't tell me to calm down.
Okay.
You turn around and walk away.
Okay.
Any more buddies of yours down the road? Noah kicked the leg of the chainman for emphasis.
No.
You lyin'?
No.
Okay. Go. Start walkin'.
The bandit stumbled down the hill and the four of them waited until they couldn't see him any more before speaking. Tina dropped to her knees beside Finn, who was clutching his ear.
Are you all right?
It's just a scratch.
Noah knelt next to her, gently prying Finn's blood-covered fingers away. Let me see.
Finn hissed in pain. I think the guy sharpened the damn thing, he said, wincing.
Who the hell sharpens a chain? Noah asked, inspecting the wounded ear as Tina stood and went to Summer.
I don't know, that's just what it felt like.
The rounded flesh of his ear had been ripped about a quarter of an inch from the edge toward the hole, like a dog's ear coming out of a fight. Man, I don't think that thing's gonna go back together, Noah said, pressing his dirty sleeve against the tear to mop up some of the blood.
How bad is it?
You'll be okay.
Okay.
Finn stood up, a little dizzy, and went to retrieve the hatchet. Don't look, Summer, he said. A solid tug allowed the head of the axe to come free of the chainman's skull, and before Summer could see, Finn quickly wiped off the bit of all the blood and brain matter it had retained. He slid it back into his belt.
Daddy?
Yeah?
You're bleeding.
I'm okay. Are you?
Yeah.
Okay. Let's keep going.
That night, Summer slept in Finn's arms while Noah and Tina huddled together for warmth. It was too soon after the attack to light a fire, and every noise could be a starving bandit lying in wait.
Daddy? Summer asked in the still of the night, after Noah and Tina had drifted into a fitful slumber.
What is it?
Why did those men attack us?
Lots of reasons, probably. They were scared.
And hungry?
And hungry.
Were they going to eat us?
Finn held her tiny body closer to his chest. Maybe. I don't know.
Will we ever have to eat someone?
No, we won't.
You promise?
I promise.
How long until we get South?
I don't know.
Are we close?
Closer than where we were when we started.
That's not an answer.
He smiled into her hair. You sound like your mom.
A/N: Please leave a review and let me know what you think.