Sticks & Stones

The man pushed Deuce away roughly, causing him to stumble and fall onto the hard-packed dirt. Redjacket turned on Zane and threw a punch that snapped Zane’s jaw to the side and caused him to stagger back into the shotgun. Zane regained his balance and turned on the man with a snarl, only to have Swizzlestick jab the shotgun in his back warningly. Zane glared at them both mutinously, but he kept his hands laced behind his head as the man with the swizzle stick hanging out of the corner of his mouth sidestepped around him and moved to stand next to Redjacket.

“Keep your damn mouth shut,” Redjacket ordered as he poked Zane in the chest. “You’re in our mountains now.”

“We’re not here looking for you,” Zane grated out. “We’re on a fucking vacation.”

“I wanted to go to Cabo,” Deuce muttered from his place on the ground.

Redjacket laughed loudly. “Shoulda listened to your boyfriend,” he told Zane as he kicked at Deuce.

Zane’s body jerked as he resisted the instinct to help. Swizzlestick stepped forward and poked Zane in the chest with the barrel of the shotgun. Zane swore right then and there that he would take that shotgun away from him and beat him with it. After the past week, his temper was seriously frayed.

“I don’t give a good goddamn who the hell you are or why you’re here,” Redjacket snarled at them. “You stumbled onto the wrong damn mountain.”

Zane could see Deuce’s eyes scanning the equipment around them. There was one folding card table set up nearby that held an array of dull coins, one broken candelabra, and several other unidentifiable pieces. Deuce looked at them with a confused shake of his head. “You’re actually looking for buried treasure?” he asked with ill-concealed disdain. “And blowing shit up all over the place to do it?” he added in growing anger.

“Can’t have anybody finding out, now can we? Got to protect our investments,” Earflaps sneered.

“How many people have you killed?” Zane asked furiously.

“Shut up,” Redjacket growled at him.

“—over a few pieces of broken—”

“I said shut up!” Redjacket shouted as he raised his hand, prepared to hit Zane again.

A noisy tumble of pebbles and dirt from the treeline to their right halted him, and Earflaps turned to aim his shotgun at the noise as Redjacket pulled a gun from the waistband of his jeans. “Who’s out there?” he shouted as he pointed his gun at Zane’s face and squinted into the darkening woods. There was no response as every man in the clearing held his breath. Zane tried to turn his head just enough to peer into the forest, trying to see who or what it had been. He almost hoped it was some wild animal stalking them rather than Ty or Earl being careless. Swizzlestick pumped the action of his shotgun and pointed it at Deuce when the silence stretched further.

“Show yourself or both these men die right now,” Redjacket called out.

Another movement answered the threat, and Earl slid down the small hill of the treeline and into the clearing gracelessly, his hands held up and out over his head as he stumbled out.

Zane grimaced and exhaled heavily. Fuck. This was both good and bad. Bad because now Deuce and Earl were both here and in the line of fire. But good because Ty was still out there. And these idiots would have no way of knowing.

Redjacket began cursing as Earl showed himself, and he turned just slightly, his attention wavering from Zane as he ordered Earflaps to go search Earl.

In the space of a few seconds, Zane calculated his chances: all three men were turning away, Deuce was mostly out of the way, Earflaps had his shotgun in his arm rather than ready as he approached Earl, and Redjacket and Swizzlestick were both in easy grabbing distance. Without even consciously deciding, Zane moved, shoving Redjacket hard in the back to tip him over and then lurching to grapple with Swizzlestick for the shotgun. In the midst of the struggle, Zane was aware of three quick shots coming from the trees to their left; Ty offering covering fire from his hiding spot and giving away his presence. Zane laid Swizzlestick out with a hard hook, but as he turned to face Redjacket, pain exploded in his cheek as his world went bright white and flared out.

EARL was on his knees, his hands laced behind his neck and his head lowered. He cursed himself for his clumsiness. Twenty years ago, he’d never have made such a misstep. When he’d seen the gun pointed at Deuce’s head, he hadn’t even considered not showing himself. It would be up to Ty now if they were going to get out of this.

The skinny guy with the swizzle stick was complaining loudly about his jaw as Earflaps rolled Zane over roughly. Earl watched as Earflaps rifled through Zane’s pockets, looking for any sign that Zane might be conscious. The man was out, though, limp and unresponsive. He saw Earflaps pull out Zane’s gun, and after a little more searching, he yanked sharp-looking knives from sheaths that were strapped to Zane’s forearms. He watched Earflaps examine the knives before tossing them into a nearby sack. All this time, Earl hadn’t even known Zane was wearing the weapons.

His eyes flicked to the side, to the woods where Ty’s shots had originated. He knew Ty would be long gone, having simply disappeared into the forest after the treasure hunters regained control of the situation. He hadn’t made a sound as he’d gone, Earl had noted with a hint of pride. He hoped the boy was halfway to the nearest ranger station by now, like they should have been to start with. But he knew that Ty wouldn’t leave for help now. He’d stick around and probably get himself killed trying to save them. It was what Earl would have done. If these boys thought they had the upper hand, though, they were sadly mistaken. Ty was in his element up here.

“Fuck!” Redjacket shouted, the sound echoing through the clearing and off into the woods. “Where the fuck did they come from?” he shouted. “How many more’s out there?”

“I told you they was trouble,” Earflaps answered, unperturbed by the yelling.

“Well, no shit,” Redjacket snapped. He looked around, his eyes landing on Earl. “What’s your business up here, old timer?” he asked. Earl stared back at him wordlessly. He didn’t even blink in response. “You FBI too?” he demanded. Earl just looked at him, betraying no expression.

“What about the other’n?” Swizzlestick asked as he gnawed nervously on the tiny, thin piece of plastic he had managed to salvage after Zane attacked him. “You want us to get after him?”

Redjacket turned away and looked out into the woods without answering.

“If he ain’t smart enough to hightail it outta here, the mountain’ll kill him before we could,” Earflaps offered as held his shotgun at his hip. “Ain’t none of ’em too bright, following us like they did.”

Redjacket shook his head slowly, his eyes darting back and forth amidst the trees. He turned back to Earl and knelt in front of him. “You get sent up here or was this just your unlucky day, huh?” he asked Earl quietly. He stared at Earl, waiting for any sort of response, but all he got in return was another blank stare. Earl would be damned if he answered any questions while they held guns at their heads.

“That boy out there know the mountain?” Redjacket tried, getting nothing but silence in answer.

Zane groaned softly and tossed his head as he lay flat in the dirt. Earl’s eyes flickered to check on him, seeing Earflaps shift as he stood over him, the shotgun pointed at the ground beside Zane’s thigh. Zane would be awake very shortly, and God knew what that man would start saying once he was. Boy had a mouth on him to rival Ty’s, just not the brains to put behind it. Earl moved his chin slightly so he could check on Deuce, who was kneeling, wincing in pain as he was forced to put too much pressure on his bad leg.

Redjacket watched him closely, following his gaze to rest on Deuce. “You’uns got a bit of family likeness to you,” he murmured, and Earl’s eyes darted back to glare at him. “That your boy?” the man asked knowingly with a nod at Deuce. Earl’s jaw tightened, and his lips compressed against the words he wanted to say. Redjacket nodded. He stood and lifted his gun, pointing it in Deuce’s direction.

“Stop,” Earl said quickly as his heart stuttered and his stomach plummeted. He closed his eyes and breathed out heavily. Redjacket lowered the gun and looked at him expectantly. “We weren’t sent here,” Earl answered through clenched teeth. “We took a wrong turn on the trail, that’s all.” Swizzlestick snorted heavily. Earl didn’t look away from Redjacket. “We don’t want nobody hurt,” he told him firmly.

“I bet you don’t.” Earflaps laughed as he nudged at Zane’s hip with his shotgun. Zane shifted in the dirt and groaned again.

“So,” Earl continued as if he hadn’t heard the big man speak, “y’all just surrender now, and we’ll see that you get back down the mountain in one piece,” he offered charitably.

Redjacket looked at him oddly, then huffed a laugh and turned away. “Tie ’em up, we’ll deal with this shit later,” he ordered no one in particular as he walked away. They went about binding Earl and Deuce quickly, leaving Zane mostly unconscious in the dirt without bothering to restrain him. Earl prayed that would be a mistake as his arms were jerked behind his head and bound tightly.

Once they were bound, Redjacket stepped up to Earflaps and murmured to him at length. Earl watched them carefully, trying and failing to see a way out of this that didn’t end with someone dead.

Once they’d formulated their plan, Redjacket kicked Zane’s hip hard.

TY WINCED as he watched Zane contort in pain. Crouching further into his hiding place, Ty tried to slow his racing heart and think clearly. It had taken more discipline than he’d expected to restrain himself when he’d seen the man in the red jacket pistolwhip his partner and send him crashing to the ground.

But he had to be careful. He had to focus, despite his heart beating in his throat and his fingers shaking with adrenaline and absolute terror. Three of the people he cared for most in the world were in danger, and there was very little he could do about it that wouldn’t involve bloodshed. The probability that at least one of them was going to get badly hurt was too high for Ty’s liking. There had to be some way to do this without the guns, without violence.

He just wasn’t seeing it.

He wasn’t even seeing a way with violence that didn’t end up with at least one of the three prisoners dead or dying by the end of the shootout. He wasn’t even sure that he could get off three accurate shots—and they would have to be kill shots—fast enough to keep one of the treasure hunters from firing off one of those shotguns. It was too much of a risk to take, even if Ty didn’t have serious issues with killing random assholes in the mountains. He’d offered covering fire when he thought Zane might have a chance to fight his way out. Now he regretted not taking the one kill shot he’d had.

Ty looked around the quiet woods with a hint of desperation. He was alone now, outgunned and out of options. There had to be another way.

AFTER the second kick, Zane jerked, and his eyes snapped open. Before he could move, though, a shotgun barrel appeared in his line of vision—lined up right between his eyes. He blinked up at it and remained still and silent, his hands limp at his sides. This was unfortunately a more common occurrence in his past experiences than he would have liked. Then the pain came crashing in. His face burned like it was on fire, emanating from the right side but causing his entire head to ache. It was nearly overwhelming, and he had to close his eyes and swallow hard as the nausea welled up and the agony washed through him.

He distantly heard men talking, and he knew on some level what must have happened. He shifted a little where he lay in the dirt, hissing slightly as his head protested angrily. He tried to carefully shift his jaw, but damn, it hurt. At least it didn’t slide, which meant it wasn’t broken. Thank God for small miracles.

Redjacket was standing over him, pacing, looking at Earl in annoyance. Zane rolled slightly to his side both to quell the nausea and to check on Earl and Deuce. He relaxed a tiny bit when he saw them both kneeling, looking relatively whole and unharmed even though they were heavily bound with rope and bungee cords.

“What’s his name?” Redjacket demanded of Earl. Earl narrowed his eyes and looked at Zane. “The feller out in the woods,” Redjacket snarled. “What’s his name?”

Momentary relief washed through Zane when he heard the words. That meant Ty was still free. They still had a chance.

Earl swallowed hard but remained silent. He looked sideways at Deuce, who was watching him with wide eyes. Earl shook his head and looked back at Redjacket. Earflaps mumbled in annoyance and nudged at Zane’s shoulder with the end of his shotgun. Zane jerked and groaned, rocking more to one side and curling up. If they thought he was hurt enough, they wouldn’t consider him any more of a threat, and they might not tie him up.

He peered up at Redjacket, whose face was surprisingly composed as he and Earl stared at each other. Zane wondered what was going through his mind. He suspected whatever it was wouldn’t be good for them.

“One more time, old timer,” Redjacket threatened Earl.

“I don’t know,” Earl answered defiantly. “He ain’t one of ours,” he claimed steadily.

Earflaps kicked Zane in the hip again. “Maybe this ’un’ll talk now that he’s hurtin’.” A choked groan escaped Zane as he rolled away from the man’s foot.

Redjacket raised an eyebrow at Earl, waiting for him to say more. Earl’s jaw tightened as he nodded at Zane, who was fully sprawled on his side now. “He’s my oldest son,” he told Redjacket calmly. “The other man, we came across him on the mountain this morning. Crazy son of a bitch. We don’t know him,” he claimed firmly. Redjacket turned to look down at Zane with narrowed eyes. ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">