“No.”
“I’ll bet your wife’s glad of it.”
I was trying to find a suitable comeback to that wisecrack when a distant light gleamed up the road. It disappeared as I sh-sh ’d the girl.
“What is it?” she asked.
“A light. It’s gone now. Our visitors have left their car and are finishing the trip afoot.”
A lot of time went by. The girl shivered with her cheek warm against mine. We heard footsteps, saw dark figures moving on the road and around the shack, without being sure whether we did or didn’t.
A flashlight ended our doubt by putting a bright circle on the shack’s door. A heavy voice said:
“We’ll let the broad come out.”
There was a half-minute of silence while they waited for a reply from indoors. Then the same heavy voice asked: “Coming?” Then more silence.
Gunfire, a familiar sound tonight, broke the silence. Something hammered boards.
“Come on,” I whispered to the girl. “We’ll have a try at their car while they’re making a racket.”
“Let them alone,” she said, pulling my arm down as I started up. “I’ve had enough of it for one night. We’re all right here.”
“Come on,” I insisted.