I glanced after him as he ducked into the tent and then watched Edgar turn toward the injured man. When the man who’d shot the horse came up, Edgar eyed him. “Both of you, get back to camp. And then you find the other one. You hear me? And find it fast.”
The man who’d done the shooting scowled but turned and motioned to the injured man. I wouldn’t be surprised if the guy was barely holding it together, but it was hard to see the color of his face as he followed his buddy. That left us with three, including the head honcho, Keith, who was probably aching for a reason to shoot us as well, and the third, so far, completely silent guy with a handgun.
Elliot came out of the tent with a swish of the flap. He looked around in confusion and then straightened when Edgar snapped his fingers. “Keith, keep their hands occupied. But let’s remember they’ve been behaving themselves.”
“Yeah, yeah, I got you,” Keith muttered as he walked over to us, reaching into his vest and pulling out zip ties. “Hold your hands out.”
“Fine,” I muttered.
“Not you,” Keith said, nodding toward Elliot. “You.”
“I…okay,” Elliot said, sounding unsure again as he held out his hands. Keith didn’t waste a moment tying the plastic and yanked them tight. Hard enough that Elliot gave a faint grunt as he pulled his wrists back. “Ow, thanks for that.”
“Don’t get smart,” Keith told him with a wide grin. “Or I’ll show you how stupid you are.”
“I hear you,” Elliot said softly, pulling his hands back and letting them dangle before him.
“Good, now you,” Keith said, holding up a finger and making a spinning motion. “Turn your butt around and put your hands behind your back.”
Gritting my teeth, I did as he told me. Apparently, something about me or my story had been enough to convince them I was a threat. They clearly didn’t want my hands in front of me and at my disposal. Oddly enough, as he wrapped the plastic around my wrists and tightened them even more roughly than he’d done with Elliot, I realized something else. It wasn’t useful, but I noticed that while Edgar’s voice had that constant rolling rhythm, even if it was gentle, I’d only heard an accent in Keith’s voice when he’d said a single word of Spanish.
“Happy?” I asked when I felt the plastic bite even harder into my skin. “Unless you’re trying to cut my fucking circulation off.”
“Keith,” Edgar growled.
“Fine, fine, I didn’t realize he was so touchy,” Keith said with a chuckle, patting my arm.
“I’m not,” I said, pulling away from him. “But I am seriously considering touching your throat.”
“With your hands behind your back? That would be a neat trick.”
“I’ve got a couple of feet that are pretty good at stomping.”
“You know,” he said, getting a little closer. “I think I’m starting to like you.”
“Enough,” Edgar grunted. “Play your little games once we’ve got this settled.”
“I’m not going to do anything,” Keith chuckled, stepping back. “You know me, boss.”
“Good,” Edgar said, turning to the third guy. “You and I stay here. Keith, take the other back to the camp as well.”
“Now, wait a minute,” I began, stepping forward only to get pushed back.
“You stay right where you’re at,” Edgar said as Keith grinned, his fingers flexing against my chest as he held me in place. “I’m not starting any trouble, and I want you to do the same. So you stay right there and keep Julio and me company.”
“Why didn’t you just send him with the other two?” I growled, hating the idea of Keith being alone with Elliot. It was hard to believe, but I almost thought the guy might be the second in command. But if that was the case…well, maybe Elliot wasn’t better off with anyone else in the group. “Or take me?”
“Because I want you here, that’s why,” Edgar said, clearly used to having his orders respected. “And I want you two separated. That way, you don’t get to cook up any plans while I’m thinking.”
“I’m not cooking up anything,” Elliot said softly, looking around.
“Good idea,” Edgar said, watching him and then jerking his head toward the dark horizon. “Take him back. Radio when you get there, let me know if we’re secure. Maybe we can get something through tomorrow night if we’re lucky and the night after.”
“We’re not going to babysit these two, are we?” the third man, Julio, complained.
“Don’t be such a spoilsport,” Keith told him, flipping him off.
“Enough. Get him out of here,” Edgar said, turning and leveling his gaze with mine. “And you, sit.”