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.
IT 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.
Zane briefly wondered if he ought to feel worse than he did about putting down Swizzlestick, but the farther he walked along to the soft purr of the ATV Deuce was riding behind them, the more certain he was that it wasn’t worth the effort to work up remorse over something there was no way in hell he’d ever regret.
“Don’t get clever with me, Ace,” he heard Ty growl to one of the prisoners. The distinctive sound of the action on the shotgun pumping followed the threat.
Zane resisted the urge to look over his shoulder again. The biggest problem they’d had as they made their way over the roughly two miles of trail was keeping their two prisoners in line, and that hadn’t really been much of a problem at all. Ty seemed to be taking some perverse joy in it. But Deuce had a bird’s-eye view and hadn’t objected to anything Ty had done yet, so Zane figured he’d let well enough alone.
Earl stopped ahead of him and turned slightly, gesturing at Zane. Frowning in surprise, Zane jogged ahead several steps to join him.
“Yeah?” Zane asked.
Earl had his head down, watching the others out of the corner of his eye. “You think we need someone else watching those boys?” he asked Zane seriously.
Zane raised a brow, figuring such a delightful question deserved a simple answer. “You going to tell Ty he needs to give you the shotgun and take point instead?”
Earl met his eyes briefly. “We don’t want anymore bloodshed,” he reminded neutrally. “Ty ain’t exactly in the best frame of mind right now.”
Pursing his lips, Zane exhaled slowly and glanced back at his partner, who was watching them as he stood with the shotgun trained on the two tied men. Would Ty really just off and shoot one of their prisoners? Even as rattled as he was? “He won’t shoot someone who doesn’t attack him head on,” Zane settled on.
“Yeah, tell that to Mara’s oven when we get home,” Earl muttered under his breath as he looked out ahead of them.
Zane snorted at the silliness of it.
Earl nodded and glanced at Zane, turning to look over his shoulder at Ty and the prisoners.
“What’s the problem?” Ty demanded in a sharp voice.
Earl looked back at Zane with a raised eyebrow. “No problem,” he assured Ty as he gave Zane one last glance and moved on.
Zane winced slightly but kept moving with Earl. “It can’t be much farther. We could all use a break,” he muttered. Hopefully Ty would remember that his father and h
is partner were beyond the assholes he was herding. Not that he expected Ty to actually shoot….
The two prisoners obviously weren’t as convinced, and thanks to the shotgun at their backs, Zane’s repeated threatening glares over his shoulder, and some effective knots, the two men moved along relatively quietly. When they finally reached the main camp, the shelter and supplies were a welcome sight, as sparse as they were. Deuce parked the ATV out of the way and clambered down from it, groaning and complaining as he stretched out his bad leg. Ty kept the gun on Redjacket and Earflaps as Earl secured them to a tree with bungee cords and what little rope they had salvaged. Zane dropped his backpack and the satchel he’d carried from the other camp, and Deuce followed suit as he stepped up to Zane and spoke into his ear quietly while they were occupied. “I think he’s having flashbacks,” he confided in Zane with a tilt of his head in Ty’s direction.
Zane felt a wave of something stronger than concern lap through him. He glanced at Ty furtively. Flashbacks meant military, and that was something Zane just wasn’t equipped to handle. “We’ll get some things settled, and I’ll see if I can’t talk with him a little, keep him with us,” he murmured.
Deuce winced slightly and met Zane’s eyes hesitantly. “He was a different person then,” he told Zane in a whisper. “He’s dangerous like this.”
As Zane stared at Deuce, he realized just how much of himself Ty truly kept from his family, even Deuce, who seemed so close to him. Ty was dangerous anytime. Anytime at all. Right now he just had a shorter fuse. Zane nodded slowly, not seeing any reason to argue or try to enlighten Ty’s brother just then.
“Well, we’ve got plenty to do, see what’s here, get cleaned up.” He lightly touched his own cheek, trying to evaluate it through the pain the pressure caused.
Deuce’s perceptive eyes studied him, seeming to notice his lack of reaction and storing that information away. He swallowed hard and then gave a jerk of his chin. “Want me to doctor it?” he offered.
Zane raised a brow. “What kind of doctoring you think you can do?” he asked, a touch of humor in his voice. He figured the whole side of his face was one big bruise. There was nothing to be done if anything was fractured. The black eye couldn’t be helped other than to keep the swelling down so it wouldn’t swell shut. His jaw wasn’t broken, and the only thing that really needed attention was his broken nose.
Deuce just raised one eyebrow. “I did my rounds in the ER just like everyone else,” he reminded as he glanced over at Ty and Earl, who had just finished securing the two prisoners.
“Sure,” Zane said with a shrug after peering at Deuce for a quiet moment. “You’d probably get the nose straighter than I would.” He turned to look over at Ty and Earl. “What about them?”
Deuce watched his father and brother for a moment. “What’s wrong with them, I can’t fix,” he finally claimed quietly. He dropped his pack from his shoulders and turned to limp toward a folding card table nearby.
Zane let out a long breath. After a good look around from where he stood, he went digging in one of the tents and came up with a first aid kit. At least the assholes were well-provisioned. He carried it out to the table where Deuce sat, letting the other man open it and survey the contents as Zane watched Ty and Earl going through the other tents.
“Earl’s favoring his ribs,” Zane observed.
“I’ll wrap them,” Deuce assured him. “If he lets me,” he tacked on with a long-suffering sigh. He glanced up as Ty neared them, carrying a radio.
“Dad’s got a broke rib,” Ty informed them.
Deuce looked at Zane and smirked, but he nodded in response and looked up at his brother carefully. It was the first time Zane had ever seen a hint of true wariness in Deuce’s eyes when looking at his brother. But Zane was too tired to pussyfoot around his partner, especially when it came to trying to take care of him. “What about your ribs?” he asked bluntly. “You took quite a beating.”
“I’m fine,” Ty replied immediately. He looked over Zane’s face critically. “You’re not,” he observed. “Is it broken?” he asked with a frown as he reached out to brush his fingertips across Zane’s bruised cheek.
Zane shied away from him and hissed at him. “The nose is. Deuce is gonna set it,” he confirmed. “Not sure about the cheek. Hurts like hell, but it doesn’t feel like anything’s moving around that shouldn’t be.”
“Don’t poke it,” Deuce told Ty sternly as he rummaged through the first aid kit.
“I wasn’t going to,” Ty told him defensively. He placed the radio on the table and looked at Zane again.
“Need some help?” Zane asked, trying to keep his voice calm.
“I know how to work a radio, Garrett. You worry about your broke face,” Ty advised in annoyance.
Zane bit back a retort, knowing that Ty would react badly. He almost didn’t care. A good fight would help relieve some of the tension bottled up inside him. Inside both of them. But Zane also knew it would just make the situation worse, so he swallowed hard on the urge to argue.
Ty moved to sit down heavily next to Deuce and yanked the handheld radio from its cradle. Zane watched him silently as he started messing with the dials, and then he turned to submit himself to Deuce’s tender mercies. As he sat and allowed Deuce to doctor, poke, and prod at his broken nose, he could hear Ty calling out over the radio in a tight voice, repeating the same words and requests for help as he switched frequencies methodically. There was nothing but static in response each time, but he continued on doggedly, waiting a few seconds after each attempt before moving on.
It was soon obvious that the radio would be as helpful as their cell phones. One of the storms that had passed by must have really done a job on the local towers, just like the ranger had warned them. Zane’s eyes shifted across the camp to where Earl sat going through sacks of supplies, setting out some things, throwing others to the side. Earl stood with his hands on his hips as he surveyed his finds, then began to make his way over to them. He appeared to be favoring the arm on the side of his broken rib, but otherwise he looked okay.
Ty still sat with his head bowed, his eyes closed as he held his head in one hand and the radio in the other, calling out over the dead air for a response. “No joy with the radio?” Earl asked as he approached.
“No, sir,” Ty answered quietly. He turned a dial and tried yet again.
Earl nodded solemnly, as if that was what he’d expected. He placed a hand on Ty’s shoulder. “Best give it up then,” he said carefully.
Ty immediately shoved the radio back into its cradle and sat back in his chair, rubbing at his eyes with the heels of his hands.
“This is gonna hurt,” Deuce told Zane suddenly, and before Zane could fully drag his attention away from Ty, Deuce snapped his nose back into place with one quick motion of his hands and laid a small piece of first-aid tape across the bridge to hold it in place.
Zane inhaled through his mouth sharply and managed to keep his reaction to a twitch. After a still, silent moment, he released a long exhale as he blinked his eyes against the tears that streamed down his cheeks. He winced again as Deuce packed little fluffs of cotton up his nose.
“Damn,” he said faintly when Deuce was done.
“Sorry,” Deuce offered as he gave Zane’s shoulder a pat. “All better,” he added cheerfully. “Dad, your turn.”
“Hell no,” Earl replied without hesitation.
When the tears finally cleared from Zane’s eyes, he found himself meeting Ty’s as his partner watched him. It wasn’t uncomfortable this time, Earl and Deuce bickering in the background, and Zane thought maybe he saw the emotion Ty was hiding behind the anger. Ty looked as if he wanted to say something to Zane as he sat there, but he looked away with a sigh and cleared his throat instead.
“We should start thinking about how we plan to get them out of here,” he said loudly, talking over the other two.
Deuce looked over at him in surprise. “You don’t mean to take them with us, do you?”<
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“We don’t have a well to throw them down,” Zane threw out crossly, feeling like something with Ty had been interrupted, something he might not be able to see again.
“We could dig one,” Ty muttered as he flicked at the wire of the radio, his head still down and his knee bouncing rapidly.
“They need to go to law enforcement. They’re already murderers,” Zane said.
“You’re one to talk, hero!” Redjacket yelled out.
Ty stood suddenly, the action throwing the flimsy chair he’d been sitting in backward, and he turned toward the two men tied to the tree with the obvious intention of heading over there to break things. Earl grabbed him and wrapped him up in his arms before he could get too far from the table. He lifted Ty off the ground and turned, setting him back down on his feet hard and holding him there as Deuce lunged up and put himself between them and the two prisoners, just in case Ty got loose.
Zane didn’t move at first; instead, he stared across the clearing at Redjacket and then Earflaps, who had apparently chosen to exercise his right to remain silent. Once Earl had Ty still again, Zane pushed out of his chair and walked slowly over to the tree where the two men were bound.
“I wonder now about your chances,” Zane said conversationally as he knelt in front of them to speak to them. “You know that I won’t hesitate to shoot you. Now you’ve got the Marine ready to skin you. He was Recon, you know, discharged due to mental problems,” he told them in a conspiratorial whisper. Zane looked back over his shoulder at Ty, who was barely staying in the seat with Earl right over him. “The Doc would rather leave you than risk having you around. That only leaves one in your favor, and he’s not really a nice guy.”
“We’re four days’ hike from anywhere! You leave us here we’ll be dead in two!” Redjacket claimed in outrage.
“Gag them!” Earl called out. Zane had a better idea. He stalked over to the table Earl had stacked with supplies and grabbed a roll of duct tape, pulling off a good-size strip as he approached the tree. The two men struggled, trying to yank their heads away from Zane’s hands, but they had been tied much too tightly to do them any good.