With a brief command, Gabriel tells Buck to stay put and wait. He then slips out of the cabin and into the cover of the trees along the path. Taking a wide detour, He approaches with slow steps, bent down. Without making a sound, he weaves in and out of the tightly packed trees as voices echo.
"Damn it Louis, stop it this time!"
"Oh How boring you can be, old man, you really don't know how to have fun..."
"Doing this does not "amuse" me."
Behind the trunk of an imposing ash tree, Gabriel observes the scene.
The guy with the cap has just put the rope around the neck of the girl who looks more frail than ever.
A piece of straw bending in the turmoil.
The other one sticks against her by laughing while caressing her buttocks, a hand stuffed in her panties. Finished, he puts a stool at the feet of the condemned.
"Go up there little whore. Don't worry, we'll come and get you when you're ripe!"
"Shut up, Louis!" exclaims his accomplice, whose jugular vein is swollen with exasperation.
A jolt of adrenaline runs through Gabriel's body as he emerge from his shelter, gun in hand.
The two guys freeze, exchanging stunned looks, their knuckles drawn to the butts of their guns.
"Let's calm down and don't be stupid." Gabriel declare in as neutral a tone as possible.
"Who the hell are you, you asshole?" roared the fat guy.
"Look man, this isn't your business, okay?" Tempered the other one. "You don't know anything about this story, so stay out of it and there won't be any problems!"
Nervousness contracts their features, agitation makes them eager. Violence rules this world, not compassion. They know it. Loaded weapons and a vehicle! That's the grail for many survivors when you'd kill for boots without holes in them.
You can tell by the fever that burns in their eyes that these guys will never surrender and will not let themselves be killed.
Their lack of vigilance was a fault. They are well aware of it and are willing to pay a high price to try to repair it.
"I said let's calm down and gently raise our arms," you insist, in the hope of convincing them.
It's a waste of time. The time stretches, the blood hits harder in the chests and, panting, breath shortened, each one hopes to save his skin by shooting the first.