The man was still coughing dirt when Lachlan dragged him out from under the wreck of the second truck.
One boot on the raider's wrist kept him from grabbing the knife half-buried in the mud. The guy had the wild-eyed look of someone who didn't know whether to keep fighting or start begging.
Lachlan wasn't in the mood for either.
"On your feet, sunshine," he purred, but there was a definite edge to his tone.
The man hesitated.
Lachlan leaned down just far enough to let him see the grin that didn't reach his eyes. "Or I can cut your legs off and prop you up myself. Dealer's choice."
The raider pushed himself upright fast enough to nearly fall over again. His hands were empty, Lachlan made sure of it before shoving him toward the shell of the barn where the others waited.
The field behind them still smoked. Two of the trucks were burning. The third had rolled into the ditch and wasn't climbing back out anytime soon.
The bodies stayed where they fell.
