"Do it quick, hunter," she whispered. "Please do it quick."
"What's that, baby?"
"I'm tired running. Kill me first. Beat me after. They won't know the difference."
"I'm gonna bruise and beat you," he said.
"Kill me first," she begged. "I don't want—" She began to cry. She cried right up in his face, her wide eyes unblinking, and her mouth open.
"You got bad blood, baby," he snarled. He laughed but it didn't sound like him and something was wrong with his belly. It was knotting up.
"Bad, I know! So get it over with, please. Hurry, hurry."
She was small and white and quivering. She moaned but kept staring up at him.
He ripped off his rivet-studded belt and swung once, then groaned and shuffled away from her.
He kept backing toward the door. She crawled after him, begging and clutching with both arms as she wriggled forward on her knees.