by Maira Dawn
With care, Jesse led her away from Tony. Limping, she followed, confused over the tears and fear covering Jesse's face as he glanced up at her. Skye groaned in pain when she put a hand to Jesse's face. "I'm okay, Jesse. It's okay. Let's find Dylan."
But Skye moved too slowly. Tony may be down, but Calvin, Pete, and Frankie were back on the ground and followed them.
"She killed Tony," Pete said.
Skye shook her bleary head. If Tony hadn't been chasing them, he wouldn't have been on that mountain to be killed.
"As good as killed him, anyway," Calvin said, "Look at him--all knarled up over there." Tony was a twist of arms and legs. Only a skilled physician would be able to help him now, and the world was short on those.
Calvin sauntered after the shuffling woman and boy as if he had all the time in the world. "Look what you did, Skye. Do you think we are just going to let you go after that? You just can't learn, can you? What an idiot you are, to think that you can stop us. Us!"
Agony shot through Skye's battered body with every step she took. She hurt beyond anything she'd ever felt before. A heavy headache began. When she wiped at her face, she brought back a bloodied hand. Skye stared at it for a moment.
Still, these men wouldn't leave her alone.
A sob escaped Skye before she felt her bracelets roll across the skin of her forearm. Strength. She swallowed the next cry. This had to end. "Please go, Jesse. I need you to go. Now."
"I already told you, I ain't leavin' you."
There was only one hope left to her as unlikely as it seemed. Skye turned to face Jesse's father. Her gaze begged the man as she forced him to take some responsibility. "Frankie."
Frankie refused to look at Skye. Her voice low and gasping, weaker then she would have liked, she pleaded with him. "Please, Frankie, save your son." Frankie turned his gaze to the ground.
Gathering up whatever might she had left, Skye yelled, "Frankie!"
"Yes, Frankie, save your son," Calvin said, imitating Skye. "Don't worry, Frankie, I'm going to save him." He pulled his gun from his pocket. "I'm tired of this game. It's cost me a nice pair of shoes." With genuine sorrow, Calvin looked down at his scuffed up dress footwear. "Not to mention Tony. She isn't worth that. I wanted more time with her, but I'm ending it now." Calvin raised the gun. "Pete, get the boy, and hold him back."
Pete lumbered over to Skye and the boy. Jesse clung to Skye as tightly as he could, but one meaty hand to the middle of Skye's chest and one pulling Jesse's arm was all it took to separate them.
Jesse fought, beating on Pete, but it was as if a fly buzzed around the large man. He paid no attention to the boy at all. Pete walked a few steps to the left of Skye and stopped, holding the struggling boy.
Skye stood as best she could, bleeding from numerous cuts. The anguish from the trauma to her body plain on her face. These were her last moments, and so many thoughts passed through her mind, but one more than any other.
Skye turned to Jesse, her gaze filled with concern as the tears cascaded down his face. "I love you, Jesse. No matter what happens, remember that, and be a good man. Make sure Dylan knows I love him, that my last thoughts were of him. And Wade, tell Wade I love him too. You're all my family. You're all-"
"Oh, for crying out loud!" Calvin said as he pulled the trigger.
Frankie launched himself at Calvin a second before the gun fired, knocking the weapon and Calvin's usually perfect aim off. The bullet didn't hit Calvin's precise target, but it did hit Skye.
Skye studied Frankie. He had tried to save her, someone his son loved, and he hated. Frankie had finally become a father to Jesse. She smiled, and he nodded back.
A strong, persistent burn grabbed Skye's attention. She raised a hand to it and felt blood running from a wound. Then she slowly sank to the ground.
"Don't do that again, Frankie! I say who lives and dies. Now come on, she'll be gone soon enough," Calvin said, "Get your boy and let's go. I'll see if Tony has any life in him."
Frankie shook his head. “I ain’t stayin with you, Calvin. I’m taking my boy and leavin.”
Calvin stared at him for a minute. “After everything I’ve done for you? No. You’re just leaving.”
Calvin raised his gun and shot Frankie in the head.
Jesse stilled and started to weep. Pete looked from Calvin to Frankie, then away.
An unearthly cry echoed through the forest behind them. Calvin visibly shivered as he turned in time to see the wild men bursting through the trees.
Skye's worries eased as Dylan's roar fill the woods. It surrounded her, comforted her. She could finally rest and let the darkness take her. Jesse would be okay.
38
Skye
When Dylan sent Skye and Jesse off, he was sure they'd be safer in the woods than beside him. He'd kept one eye on them as they started their race across the empty parking lot and huffed out a breath of relief when they appeared safe.
Gunfire raged around Dylan. Once Gregory ordered the firing to start, he didn't let up. Dylan and his men spent most of the time cowering behind the cars. Curt shrieked when a bullet caught him in the leg.
Every time Dylan got the chance, he fired Gregory's way. Once he heard a yell and hoped one enemy went down.
The gunfire from the other side slowed, and Dylan's men got their chance. But mid-blast to the enemy, Wade caught Dylan's attention. Dylan glanced back to see Skye and Jesse running into the woods with four men on their tail.
Dylan's heart slammed against his ribcage. For a second, he froze. A bullet buzzed past his head, startling him back to the fight.
Anger and fear mixed fueling Dylan's aggression. He was ferocious, determined to get this done. The woman and boy needed him.
The shots became more sporadic as bullets ran low. Dylan raced around the car to tackle one of Gregory's men. He pulled him to the ground, pummeling him. When that man was no longer a threat, Dylan went to the next.
This one had more fire in him. He got the upper hand and rolled Dylan, bashing his head against the pavement. Dylan grunted with each hit but pushed his way back up.
Dylan pushed the man back against a car and slammed his fist into his face. He didn't let up until the man was reeling.
Dylan looked to the woods as he wiped the blood from his face.
Shaking out a hand, Wade joined Dylan. Aaron lay on the concrete groaning from a beating he had taken. The Coles tied the last of Gregory's men and told Curt and Aaron to watch the four of them.
Dylan reloaded his crossbow, then he and Wade bolted across the parking lot. Dylan's blood ran cold when he heard Jesse's angry, desperate scream.
They raced to the edge of the concrete and found two of Gregory's men on the ground, dead. Dylan and Wade exchanged a sober glance and headed into the woods.
The enemy hadn't bothered to hide their trail so following them would've been easy, even if Skye and Jesse hadn't deliberately left evidence of the way they had taken. An anguished yell from Skye urged them along. Another screech from Jesse sent a shudder through Dylan.
The men flew through the forest. They shoved past brambles pulling at their clothing and vaulted over rotted fallen trees. A single thought drove them, to save the ones they loved, no matter the cost.
As they neared the edge of a small glen, Dylan scoured the scene through the trees.
Skye stood alone, her shoulder and arm at an awkward angle, but straight and tall as possible. Dylan had never been more proud and more terrified in his entire life.
A large man held Jesse from going to her. But the boy was a whirl of limbs as he fought the big man with everything he had. Two other men stood across from Skye, one with a gun. The other was Frankie. Dylan groaned.
All this Dylan took in as he rushed toward Skye, only a few yards to go.
The man across from Skye spoke, a bullet exploding from the gun he held. Skye put a hand to her middle, looked at Frankie and dropped.
Dylan halted, stunned. Shook to the core, he hardly noticed the
shot that took down Frankie. His legs refused to move, his lungs unable to take in oxygen.
A roar rose from a place Dylan didn't know existed. He stared at his love, the brightness of his life as she lay broken, so pale, and covered in blood. He watched her release a sigh, and go still, so very still.
Dylan's vision narrowed to the man with the gun. He plunged ahead, picking up speed until he broke free from the forest.
Dylan released the rage he continuously held at bay and let it run unchecked, adding the agony of Skye's death to the wrath that already lived within him. Dylan felt the heat move over him, would not have been surprised if his breath became fire.
Wade breathed heavy at his side, but Dylan wanted this for himself. He pulled ahead.
A swipe at Pete's skull with the hard crossbow had the big man staggering and holding his head. Dylan knew he could leave the rest to Wade. Frankie was already down with a bullet to the head. Tony moaned in the background. Dylan moved on to Calvin.
Fear washed over Calvin's face as an enraged Dylan came at him. He stumbled backward, his eyes stretching larger and larger as Dylan closed in on him. Calvin lifted a shaking gun at Dylan.
Dylan aimed his bow and fired, hitting the arm in which Calvin held the gun. His target cried out, dropping the weapon and grabbing at the arrow.
Dylan lunged at Calvin, fists pounding, even as the man apologized for every single wicked thing he had done his entire life.
Dylan's head whirred with rage. Still, Calvin's confession got through. Slaughters and unimaginable cruelties spilled from the man as if his admission would stop Dylan's fists.
It wasn't only Skye, his own beautiful Skye, that suffered at this madman's hands. There were others.
Wade appeared, pulling at Dylan.
"No! He needs to die," Dylan said through gritted teeth.
"She ain't dead," Wade said, "I know he does, but Skye ain't dead."
Dylan released the balled-up chunk of Calvin's shirt he held and let him drop. He stared over his shoulder at her. He was afraid, afraid that on this surreal day, this was the part that was not real.
Shirtless, Jesse pressed his t-shirt to Skye's bullet wound. The boy kept calling out to her, hoping she would wake up.
"Keep 'em all down," Dylan said, his voice curt. "If they move shoot 'em dead." Wade nodded and pulled a whimpering Calvin closer to Pete.
Dylan hurried to Skye. Blood covered her middle, her face, ran down her arms. He moved to gather Skye in his arms but stopped worried he would hurt her more. She looked so small.
Dylan swallowed the sobs trying to escape. Skye may be alive now, but she wouldn't be for long. He planted a foot on each side of Skye and bent to check her pulse. Some of the tension left him. It was stronger than Dylan expected.
Dylan waved at Jesse's hands and gently pulled back the shirt pressed against her wound. The knot inside Dylan tightened. The position of the injury alarmed him. Skye needed more than them, to recover Skye needed a hospital, a doctor.
"Help her, Dylan," Jesse pleaded. Dylan looked at the boy's scared face, knowing it reflected his own. How did he tell the boy maybe no one could?
A rustling came from the bushes to their right, and a black look settled over Dylan's face. He stood and loaded his bow. Beside him, Wade did the same.
39
Fix Her
Doctor Paul Kinder, his daughter Bre, and Kelsey Lang navigated the steep hilly roads on their way to Colton. After rescuing Kelsey, they located exactly what Paul hoped to find -- a mobile medical unit.
When he heard gunfire, Paul pulled his large vehicle over to the side of the road. From where he sat, Paul could see the superstore and its parking lot. He glanced at the girls. "You know what to do."
"Dad!" Bre pointed at their old neighbors. "That's Aaron and Curt down there!"
"You sure?"
"Yep, that's them all right, propped up against the car there."
Paul peered over his daughter's side of the vehicle. Aaron and Curt sat on the pavement, holding a gun on four other tied men.
He drove into the parking lot, eyeing the scene as he went. There was no doubt a shootout took place here. Many of the scattered vehicles were riddled with bullet holes, and at least three men had injuries consistent with bullet wounds.
Paul rolled up beside Aaron and Curt, but when he went to get out of the car, they stopped him. "Doc," Aaron said around a swollen lip, "It sure is great to see you, but you need to go on and find the Coles." Aaron waved at the woods behind him. "They went that way, after Skye Jackson and Jesse Bailey. We've heard screams."
Paul nodded and turned to the girls. "I'm leaving you here to start on Aaron and Curt's wounds. Check on Aaron and Curt the way I taught you. Do not go near the other men, or distract Aaron and Curt from keeping an eye on them. Keep your weapon on you at all times."
Kelsey and Bre quickly nodded. They knew the drill. This wasn't the first time they'd come across people who needed help. They each grabbed a ready emergency kit and headed over to the brothers.
Paul pulled a large, black tote bag from the back containing a large selection of emergency supplies and ran the way Aaron pointed. Since neither Dylan nor Wade were regular patients, he hoped they would recognize him.
Paul winced as one shot , then a second echoed through the trees. A flock of birds took flight, and everything was still for a moment. A roar shattered the silence. Small creatures scurried in fear and the heavy thuds of men fighting filtered through the woods.
Paul wasn't eager to join the fight, but he'd never been one to turn his back on someone in need either. He pushed through a final layer of brush and halted, throwing his hands in the air.
The scene was one Paul would never forget. The wild men of Colton had become wilder.
A shirtless Jesse stretched over Skye, one hand holding his bunched-up shirt to her bloody middle, the other on the leafy ground steadying him. His body shielded her as his stare fixed on Paul as he emerged from the brush. A look of pure resolve covered Jesse's young face.
Dylan stood guard, taunt and towering over both the woman and boy. Ready, with his crossbow in hand, and an icy glare in his eyes. Wade stood to his left, his own bow raised and his jaw firm.
If Paul wasn't already certain of their fierce determination to protect Skye, the low growl he swore was coming from the three of them proved it.
Paul's heart thumped. He had seconds to speak before an arrow found a bullseye in him. "I'm Paul, a doctor. I'm the doctor from-"
"From Colton," Wade said.
With those words, the weapons dropped, and Dylan motioned him over, his fierce expression turning to worry. "Can you help her, Doc?"
On his way, Paul saw four men laid out on the ground, two beaten, one twisted up, and one shot dead. He glanced at Dylan out of the side of his eye. How glad Paul was to be on the right side of the Wild Cole Brothers. He didn't say a word. It was clear these men would receive no treatment until Skye was cared for.
Crouching beside Skye, he examined her. Dylan, Wade, and Jesse barely gave him enough room, but he managed. Blood oozed from the numerous cuts covering her body and face. Several large bruises already formed including one on her forehead. Her shoulder was at an odd angle. Paul winced hoping it was an easy fix. The bullet would be, by far, her most serious injury. He worried it nicked her an organ.
While working, Paul glanced at Jesse. "How is it you and Skye are here with the Coles?"
"Skye, Wade, and Dylan saved me from my dad. We live with them now."
Paul looked at Dylan. Dylan stared back as if daring Paul to object.
Paul didn't. Instead, he said, "I should be able to help her, as long as there isn't more damage than I'm anticipating once I get in there."
"Okay, where?" Dylan quickly scanned the area. "How soon?"
"Back in the parking lot. I have a mobile medical trailer."
When Dylan rush to pick up Skye, Paul put a hand out to stop him. "Whoa, carefully, carefully. Slow and easy, that's the way
we do this."
Dylan gave a sharp nod. "I can do that."
Dylan wiped the sweat from his forehead before he gently picked Skye up. His body was out of control, sweating and chilling at the same time. If Dylan let himself think at all, his mind immediately went to life without her. He was terrified.
Dylan did what he had seen Skye do many times. He hauled in a deep breath and slowly let it out. He could do this. Pick her up and walk back to the parking lot. Everything would be okay. The instant those words ran through his mind, he regretted it. They felt like a lie.
On the trip through the woods, Skye groaned a few times, and Dylan reassured her. She didn't fully wake, and everyone was grateful for that.
Once they arrived at the medical trailer, Dylan carefully laid Skye on the exam table. He leaned over her, and tenderly pushed her hair out of her bloodied face.
"Darlin'?"
Her green eyes fluttered open. Skye uttered a low groan but offered a little smile when she saw Dylan looking down at her.
"Dylan." She attempted to raise a hand to touch his face. When Skye failed, Dylan took her hand in both of his larger ones and bent his cheek to her. He needed to feel her warm touch. They gazed at each other before Skye drifted off again.
Paul started an IV. When he saw Dylan watching him, he explained. "Fluids. And meds to keep her sedated while I do my work." Then Paul turned to Dylan, attempting the most dangerous task he needed to perform, asking this man to leave. ”Dylan, if you would like to step out, I can begin."
"I ain't goin anywhere."
"Dylan, I need to concentrate on this. I can't do that if a family member is here. So if you could step out."
Dylan stared at Paul, letting him know what he thought. He didn't move.
Paul ignored his stubbornness. It wasn't the first time and wouldn't be the last someone worried about their loved one. "And if you could send Bre in here, she will assist me."