Born Savages - Cora Brent Page 0,16
as they turn off the freeway and spend miles on a bumpy road that dissolves into dirt. Mina has passed out beside him and the driver is nothing but a silent head.
“Shit,” Oscar mutters, and by the time they reach a scattered collection of buildings he’s expecting the worst.
Oscar slides out of the door as Mina struggles to pull herself back into the land of the conscious. The brilliant sunshine is so harsh, nearly painful.
He curses again and rubs his eyes, seeing spots and beyond that, an imprint of a ghost town. When he opens them, a girl has materialized. She looks him up and down with a bored expression, then tosses a mane of wavy dark hair. Oscar figures she’s one of the Savage cousins. She looks about as friendly as your average fork-tongued lizard.
Twenty yards away is a rambling, one story, rustically luxurious ranch home that was probably once quite something but now just looks like it’s seen better days. Beyond that is a splintery church, a rickety barn, a shabby general store with a teetering façade, and a narrow Victorian-style building with a sagging balcony and a wooden sign with the word ‘BROTHEL’ plainly spelled out in weathered lettering.
“Welcome to paradise, cousin,” laughs the girl who seconds earlier had looked at him like he was a shit-filled paper bag. Her face is pretty, her expression mocking and even though she’s not as filled out as the girls Oscar usually likes he can’t avoid taking interest in what he does see.
Then Mina spills out of the car and people suddenly start popping up from everywhere. The dark-haired girl is joined by a blonde and a redhead. Both of them stare at him and giggle like idiots. A teenage boy rides up on an arthritic pony and hops off, generating a cloud of dust. That pisses off a bigger teenage boy who has somehow erupted from the nearest cactus.
“Motherfucker,” complains the larger boy and swipes at the rider.
The kid on horseback tips his wide straw hat back and glares. “Stay off the fucking path then, asshole.”
A shoving match ensues and there’s more cursing, some shouted promises of blood. The pair of them roll right into Oscar’s legs.
The dark-haired girl lets out a loud sigh, then stomps over and pulls them apart. She’s petite and bird-like. Oscar stands ready to jump in if the boys make a move to rough her up at all but they freeze like a cartoon when she yells, “Stop acting like savages!”
The other two girls find this choice of words hilarious and they laugh harder. Oscar is beginning to wonder if they know how to do anything else.
With one final shove, the larger boy rolls off and stalks away without even hinting that he’s noticed Oscar at all despite the fact that he crashed right into him a few seconds earlier. The girl holds out a hand to the other boy, who’s grabbing at his hat and moodily shoving it back onto his head.
“Hell of an impression we’re making,” the girl says with a headshake as she hauls her brother to his feet. She meets Oscar’s eyes, stares searchingly for a second and then nods. Right away Oscar can guess that she’s the rare sort of girl who doesn’t have much patience for bullshit.
“I’m Ren.” She jerks her head. “This is Spence. The nasty ape stalking in the direction of the brothel is Monty. By the way, it’s not a real brothel so don’t get all excited. Like the rest of this place it’s just leftover garbage from the heyday of Hollywood’s revisionist Old West era.”
“Is that so?” says Oscar, trying to take it all in. The crumbling buildings, the gang of rowdy siblings, his mother somewhere in the background.
“Brother!” Mina squeals and kisses the air around the head of a broad-shouldered man whose movies Oscar has seen but whose hand he’s never shaken.
At the man’s side is a scowling woman with the same dainty build as Ren. Her face says she’s on the fading side of forty. She’s staring at Oscar.
“I thought he was a boy,” she complains unhappily. “You described a boy, not a man.”
The girl named Ren makes a face, rolling her eyes. Spence looks like he’d rather just get back on his horse and ride somewhere more interesting. The giggle twins go on giggling. Monty broods on the balcony of the brothel. And August Savage is scrutinizing him thoughtfully.
“Hello Oscar,” he says and it’s the friendliest greeting so far.
“Oscar is tall,”