Sticks and Stones (24 page)

“I’m thinkin’ real hard on killin’ this one anyway,” Earflaps muttered as he kneed Zane in the back, nearly knocking him over again. Zane had to catch himself, palms down in the dirt, and he gave Earflaps an ugly look over his shoulder.

“Ain’t nobody killing anybody yet,” Redjacket declared as he held up his hands to calm them. He pulled off his glasses and rubbed at his eyes. “We don’t wanna have to drag a body anywhere. Best thing to do is march ’em up there, and do it there.”

Ty slammed both hands onto the ground suddenly, rustling the dried leaves and making an unsatisfactory thud. “I am sick and fucking tired of being threatened by amateurs!” he shouted in utter frustration. He pushed himself up to stand suddenly, turning on Swizzlestick and the shotgun, and he pointed a finger at the cruel-looking man. “If you’re gonna shoot me, shoot me, but I’ll be goddamned if you’re gonna throw me in a hole and leave me!”

Zane’s gaze wrenched up from the ground just as Earl and Deuce began begging Ty to calm down.

No one seemed to know what to do now that Ty was literally telling them to shoot him. Swizzlestick stood in front of Ty, gripping his shotgun uncertainly and glancing at Redjacket for guidance. As Ty threw his hissy fit, Redjacket moved closer to sort it out, his glasses in one hand and his gun in the other. Swizzlestick tossed his plastic stick away with a curse and gripped his shotgun tighter to point it at Ty threateningly, shouting for him to shut up and sit back down.

They circled around Ty, leaving Earflaps a good fifteen to twenty yards on the other side of the clearing. Alone with Zane.

Whether Ty did it on purpose was hard to tell, but it was Zane’s opinion that he was just losing his temper and didn’t care if they shot him, rather than purposely trying to divert their attention away from the rest of them. Ty did have a short fuse upon occasion, and Zane figured he had reason today. It was even possible that he was halfway lost in a flashback to his Recon days. If anything was going to cause one, this would. Ty turned to Redjacket as they circled him, both of them pointing their guns at him and shouting for him to get back on his knees. He ignored the orders and continued bitching about their tactics. “You don’t
tell
your prisoners you’re gonna kill them!” he shouted at Redjacket in annoyance as he took a step toward him.

It reminded Zane suddenly of the lessons Ty had been telling the rookie FBI candidates back at Hogan’s Alley. Never overestimate the mental stability of your opponent.

Swizzlestick stepped forward and jabbed his shotgun into Ty’s belly.

Zane’s shoulders twitched, cold fear flooding him. He hoped to hell Ty knew what he was doing. There was no way he or Earl or Deuce could get to him to help when Ty already had a shotgun point blank in his middle.

Ty took another step, causing the barrel of the gun to dig against his abs and pushing Swizzletsick back a step. The man’s trembling finger tightened slightly on the trigger.

“You give them hope!” Ty yelled at the man. “It keeps them docile and cooperative so they don’t resort to desperate measures when you’re not paying attention!” he said as he grabbed the barrel of the gun, shoved it away from his body, and struck out at the man with a left hook. The gun went off just as Ty let it go, the shot just barely missing Redjacket.

“Hey!” Redjacket yelled, raising his gun. Ty kicked back at him, hitting him square in the chest with his heavy hiking boot and sending him stumbling backwards before rounding on Swizzlestick again.

Earl and Deuce began to truly struggle with their restraints as all hell broke loose around them. Suddenly everyone was moving.

Zane was already twisting to slam his arm across the back of Earflaps’ knees before giving him a heavy push, toppling the man over. He landed on his ass with a loud grunt, but he held onto his shotgun. Zane lunged at him, hand out to grab at Ty’s gun, but Earflaps swung the shotgun, catching Zane in the face again, and the pain shattered through him. He was dazed for a moment, long enough for Earflaps to jab him in the kidney with the gun barrel before he shook the haze off and kicked at him. He could hear the cursing and yelling and scuffling going on behind him as Ty dealt with two men at once, but Zane couldn’t get to them yet—he had to deal with this asshole first. Lurching to his feet, Zane grappled with Earflaps and slapped at his belt to dislodge the gun, getting a knee in the gut for his efforts.

“That there’s part of the payback,” Earflaps hissed as Zane collapsed to one side with a harsh gasp, trying to get air in.

Zane blinked hard, the others coming into focus for the seconds it took him to roll out of Earflaps’s reach and get to his feet. Swizzlestick was on his knees, coughing blood and dazed. Ty had Redjacket down, holding him by the neck in a sleeper hold until he lost consciousness. Deuce and Earl were still tied, though Earl seemed to have almost managed to loosen his ropes.

Zane had to duck as Earflaps took another jab at him with the shotgun, too close to get off an actual shot with it, and he managed to get the man in the gut with a good punch. As Earflaps doubled over with a howl, the gun fell from his belt to the dirt, only to kick away toward the others. Zane stayed on him and kicked out viciously, his boot coming into crunching contact with one of Earflaps’s knees and then his gut; Earflaps gave a series of pitiful howls and collapsed, falling over on top of his shotgun. Zane spun around, trying to find the sidearm.

Neither Earl nor Deuce were free yet. Ty still held Redjacket by his neck, and as Zane watched he rolled the unconscious man to the side and pushed himself up, reaching for the gun on the ground next to him. But before Ty could get to it, Swizzlestick raised his shotgun and aimed it right at Ty’s back.

In that split-second, Zane reacted instinctively: he snatched Ty’s gun up from the dirt and pulled the trigger without a single thought.

Three gunshots cracked loudly in immediate succession, echoing in the forest, and everything came to a sudden stop as Swizzlestick collapsed, thudding hollowly on the ground with three bullets in the chest.

T
Y ROLLED
to his side as soon as the shooting started, ducking and covering and then rolling into a crouch with Redjacket’s gun, prepared to return fire. He found himself with his gun aimed at Zane, his finger on the trigger and ready to squeeze. Zane was on his knees, having turned his gun on Earflaps, who seemed frozen in place, shotgun loosely in hand, as he stared at Swizzlestick’s bleeding corpse.

“Put it down or you’re joining him,” Zane said harshly to the stunned man, outstretched arm not wavering as he held his gun on him.

Ty gasped, his heart racing as he aimed the gun away from Zane. He turned his head to look at the man who lay dead. He was sprawled on his back, bleeding from three different expertly placed bullet holes.

Zane had killed the guy without even a blink of the eye. Ty had agonized over how to do this without bloodshed, and then Zane had just gone off and shot the guy. While he’d known that Zane was capable of killing, Ty hadn’t seen it. Not like this. Not at all, now that he thought about it.

The gunshots had caused everything to cease long enough for Earl to finally free himself. He was cutting Deuce loose with a knife he’d grabbed from somewhere. Ty knew he should move to help, but all he could do was stay there on his knees and stare at his partner in stunned silence. He’d known Zane had killed Tim Henninger from reading the reports of what had happened in New York. He’d never asked Zane about it, though, and on some level he hadn’t truly believed Zane really had it in him to take a life so easily.

Ty shook himself and looked down at the dead man’s body—the man had to have been right behind him, gun up and ready to fire. But Zane had beaten him to it.

Earflaps was so shocked that he hadn’t moved. Zane got to his feet, walked over, and yanked the shotgun out of his hands. “Everyone okay?” Zane asked in a low growl. He hadn’t even turned an eye toward the man he’d just shot down, and he ignored it as everyone stared at him, dumbstruck. Ty didn’t move any more than it took to lower his gun. Deuce sank back to the ground and shook his head without speaking.

Earl looked from Zane to the body and back again. “Nice shot,” he said finally, still breathing hard.

Zane’s dark eyes flickered to the body and back before he tucked the shotgun in the crook of his arm and walked over to crouch next to Deuce, murmuring, setting one hand gently on Deuce’s outstretched leg.

Ty found himself continuing to stare at Zane. Then he realized he was gaping and snapped his mouth closed. He shook his head to dispel the numb feeling, and he forced himself to stand. He spared a glance for Redjacket, who was still unconscious. He’d be out for a few minutes yet.

Ty looked at Earflaps, and he gestured toward the ground with the barrel of his gun. “Face in the dirt,” he ordered in a hoarse voice. The man complied without argument. Ty turned to his father and was surprised to find him looking at him. Ty swallowed hard. “Okay?” he asked.

“Got a rib or two,” his father answered gruffly. “Be fine,” he added as he took the gun in his hand and turned it around to hand it to Ty, grip first.

“That’s Garrett’s,” Ty told him quietly with a nod at his partner. He wondered what his father was thinking. The way Earl was looking at him was the same way Ty imagined he must be looking at Zane. Like he’d never seen him before.

Earl continued to look at him as he turned slightly and offered the gun to Zane. Glancing up from where he was kneeling next to Deuce, Zane took the weapon without comment and shoved it in the back of his waistband. Ty’s gun was still in his left hand, though he’d laid the shotgun down next to Deuce. Ty finally shook off the stupor and moved toward them. “He okay?” he asked as he laid a hand on Zane’s shoulder.

Zane nodded as he finished gripping different spots up and down Deuce’s leg. “Not broken.”

“Doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt,” Deuce muttered, still rubbing at his thigh.

“Man up, Grady,” Zane said with a half-smile, but his tone was gentle.

“Shut up,” all three Grady men mumbled at him.

Zane gave a sharp laugh and shook his head. “Let’s get you on your feet and see how you do,” he said to Deuce. Glancing up, Zane flipped the Smith & Wesson smoothly and offered it to Ty.

Ty met his eyes as he took the gun. He made sure to brush his fingers over Zane’s. “Thank you,” he said without looking away.

Maybe it was his imagination, but he thought Zane’s eyes softened as he nodded. He shifted to slide one arm around Deuce’s back to help him stand. Deuce hissed under his breath. But he was on his feet, standing unaided.

“We’ll go find you a new walking stick,” Earl told him as he looked him up and down.

“I’m gonna need one,” Deuce acknowledged.

Ty was nodding as he looked down at his brother’s bum leg. Not only did he need the stick, the compass embedded in it might have come in handy too. As would the survival rope around its handle. But it was long gone, lost somewhere in the woods.

They would need supplies in order to get home, and they would have to figure out what to do with their two prisoners. He frowned heavily and looked back at the men who’d tried to kill them. “They have ATVs,” he remembered suddenly as he glanced back at his father with a raised eyebrow.

Earl pursed his lips and nodded, looking down at Earflaps. “Where’s your main camp?” he demanded. The man shook his head stubbornly without raising his face from the dirt.

Ty walked to stand behind him and put his boot on the back of his neck, shoving his face into the dirt. He pressed the heel of his boot into the back of the man’s neck, grinding it in retaliation for the beating he’d taken. “We’ll find it ourselves,” he declared as he looked around for what remained of their gear. “We’re gonna need something to tie them up.”

“I cut up all the rope and cords they used on us,” Earl told him, a hint of wry humor actually entering his voice now that the danger had mostly passed.

Zane stood and walked past Redjacket to a satchel left in the dirt. He picked it up and started digging. “Ammunition, salt peter, slicker, bottled water… here we go,” he said, pulling out a roll of nylon rope, still in store packaging. “Aren’t we lucky,” he said drolly.

“It’ll do,” Ty said as he gestured for it. Zane tossed the rope to him, and Ty began unwrapping it as he pondered the various and sundry ways to tie up the two men.

Between the four of them, he was pretty certain they could come up with something.

I
T DIDN’T
take Ty and Earl long to track the treasure hunters’ trail back to their main camp. They obviously hadn’t been worried about leaving sign; even Zane could follow it. It might as well have been paved with yellow bricks.

Despite the relatively simple task of herding the two men along the trail, Ty was in an incredibly sour mood. He was snapping answers to questions when they were asked and remaining silent otherwise as he walked behind the two prisoners with a shotgun at their backs. Zane glanced at him every now and then, but he had no plans to mention the behavior. Ty had every right to be in a shitty mood—they all did.