Sticks and Stones (23 page)

Redjacket took in a deep breath to shout again, but then Ty stepped into the clearing suddenly, almost ninety degrees from where Redjacket was looking, drawing everyone’s eyes with the movement. Swizzlestick jerked his shotgun around and cocked it at Ty, who stood with his hands above his head obediently. In one hand he held his gun, hanging by the trigger guard off one finger. He dropped the gun as soon as they turned on him and then moved his hand to join the other, which was behind his head already. What he’d been planning to do was anyone’s guess. He obviously hadn’t had enough time or ammo to do anything but surrender.

Zane shifted back onto his elbows from his side to better see Ty. “Quit yer movin’,” Earflaps snarled to him.

Ty stood stock still, watching them all impassively. Zane couldn’t decide if he was glad to see him or disappointed that their last chance at escape might have just evaporated. But he knew better. There was no one better to get them out of this than Ty, even if he was unarmed now. And possibly in the midst of a mental breakdown. He didn’t look like himself, nor had he been behaving like the man Zane knew for some time. Even now, he stood staring at them all sedately, no hint of anger or a challenge in his expression.

“What’re we gonna do now?” Swizzlestick asked as he looked over their four prisoners critically.

Redjacket looked to Earflaps and nodded at Ty, as if giving him an order to go take care of him.

Ty’s eyes slid from Earflaps back to Redjacket. He didn’t appear too worried about the prospect as the big, burly man walked over and hauled off to punch Ty in the gut.

Reflexively, Zane sat up in a shot. Seeing Ty being attacked made something inside him clench, something that made him feel possessive and scared and angry as hell all at once. But the shotgun at his chest stopped him from moving further to help.

Ty didn’t even try to defend himself. He kept his arms over his head. His entire body tensed, and Zane heard him breathe out hard as Earflaps grabbed him by the shoulder and rammed his fist into his stomach. Ty merely turned slightly, letting the punch hit him in his oblique muscles, along the side of his torso. He did everything Zane knew he could to lessen the impact of the direct blow to his torso.

The dull thud of fist hitting hard muscle seemed loud in the small clearing, but Ty barely reacted other than to wince with the impact. The punch should have leveled him. Earflaps looked at Ty in shock as he shook his hand and backed away a step, and Ty smirked at him.

“My turn,” Ty told him with a grin before whipping his left hand around to smash his fist into the man’s face. He held a rock in that hand, the one no one had thought to check. The crack of bone made Zane wince as his own face throbbed in sympathy. Ty could pack a punch, Zane knew from experience. He didn’t want to think about the damage he could do actually wielding something solid. The moose hat went flying and blood gushed down the man’s face as he fell back and landed in the dirt with a dull thump. Swizzlestick turned, raising his shotgun clumsily as he tried to aim it at Ty, and Zane surged to his feet.

Ty turned and threw the fist-sized rock at Swizzlestick, hitting him in the head and knocking him and his shotgun on his ass. Then Ty whirled around, intending to go for the gun he’d dropped.

He came to an abrupt halt when Redjacket calmly stepped up to him with his handgun and aimed it at his head. Something in the man’s eyes must have told Ty he would fire, because Ty slowly put his hands up obediently.

Zane had almost reached the shotgun when Redjacket shouted forcefully. “Stop!” He deliberately pushed the barrel of his .45 under Ty’s chin, forcing Ty’s head back slightly.

Zane froze in place, fists clenched, a scowl on his face that he knew just highlighted the split lip and the quickly darkening bruises along his cheekbone that weren’t hidden by his week’s worth of beard.

“Son of a bitch,” Swizzlestick wheezed from where he sat in the dirt, holding the gash on his head. “Shoot the bastard.” Earflaps whimpered in agreement as he rolled on the ground and bled profusely.

Zane jerked his chin as Redjacket narrowed his eyes at Ty, obviously seriously contemplating doing it. Swizzlestick got to his feet, grabbed his shotgun noisily, and grunted at him in warning. Zane stepped back with his hands up, staring at Redjacket and Ty tensely.

Ty hadn’t moved. He still stood with his hands in the air and his chin slightly raised, looking Redjacket in the eye as the man held the gun under his chin. He seemed to be holding his breath, waiting. For once, it looked like Ty didn’t have any more tricks up his sleeve. Or rocks. He was just waiting to be shot, and the realization scared Zane more than he’d ever thought it would.

Finally, Redjacket moved, reaching out to push Ty’s jacket off his shoulders warily. He yanked at Ty’s shirt, ripping the buttons out of it, then pushed the sleeves off his shoulders so the shirt slid back as Ty stood still, watching him blankly. Zane held his breath, waiting for Ty to do something. Anything. But Ty didn’t move as Redjacket patted him down to make sure he had no other hidden weapons or sticks or God knew what else Ty might have picked up out there.

He tossed away a few more rocks Ty had gathered, pulled a lighter out of his pocket and tossed it away, and removed Ty’s hunting knife. He stopped when he pushed up one of the short sleeves of Ty’s T-shirt. He stared at Ty’s arm for a moment and then looked up at Ty warily. Zane belatedly realized that the man must have caught sight of Ty’s tattoo.

“Marine, are you?” Redjacket muttered to Ty as he finally backed away from him, far enough that Ty couldn’t reach the weapon as he held it on him. He gestured for Swizzlestick to help Earflaps up. “Think you’re a smart guy, huh, Marine?” he said to Ty. “Think one broke face is gonna save you?”

“Made me feel better,” Ty told him with a small smile.

Redjacket gave him a jerky nod. “On your knees,” he ordered angrily. He turned his head to look at Zane. “You too,” he snarled.

Next to Earl and Deuce now, Zane slowly went down in a crouch before dropping to his knees and settling his hands behind his head. Earflaps grabbed up his shotgun and practically shoved it in his face.

“Just one twitch, fella,” he growled. “Gimme one little twitch, and I’ll blow you to kingdom come.”

Zane wisely chose not to move at all, hiding his emotions from long practice, and from the corner of his eye, he could see Ty in the exact same position. Zane wondered what Earl and Deuce must think of them, seemingly unaffected by such things.

Redjacket stood in the middle of them all, looking around at them and obviously realizing that it would be hard to keep them all under control. He glanced between Zane and Ty, common sense telling him that they would be the most dangerous.

“You watch him,” he told Swizzlestick as he pointed at Zane. He handed the thin man Ty’s gun, which Swizzlestick shoved into his belt. “And those two.” He jerked his chin toward Deuce and Earl. Then he pointed at Earflaps. “You bring the Marine,” he said as he pointed at Ty.

Earflaps nodded and took Ty by the elbow, yanking him off the ground and pushing him far enough away to hold the gun on him safely. It was disturbing that they seemed to know to keep out of reach with the guns. They had enough common sense and knowledge to make them scary. They stalked off with Ty in tow as Zane went cold.

As soon as the shotgun was pointed at Ty’s back, Zane lurched. His body coiled as he saw them pushing Ty away from the clearing, but Swizzlestick was right over him and smashed the shotgun’s hilt down onto his right shoulder. Zane crumpled with an odd, choked sound of pain, curling into himself, hugging his arm close as the pain in his head was eclipsed.

Swizzlestick laughed, obviously happy with seeing Zane curled up on the ground. “Aww, now see, I got the easy job,” Swizzlestick said as he moved to stand next to Deuce, holding the gun on them as he positioned himself to where he could see his prisoners and still watch where his buddies were taking Ty.

Zane felt sick and incredibly helpless as he huddled there under watchful eyes, unable to move as his face and shoulder both screamed at him. When he heard the first blow land somewhere behind him, he turned his face into the soft dirt and closed his eyes. They could beat Ty into a pulp back there, and there was nothing he could do. And he knew Ty wouldn’t fight back because of the danger to his partner, brother, and father.

It seemed like a lifetime before the hits and grunts stopped behind him, and Zane took a breath to try to settle his stomach. As far as he could tell, Ty hadn’t made a sound. Far too long went by before they dragged Ty back into the clearing and left him on the ground, across the clearing from Zane and the others. Zane tried in vain to see his partner from where he lay, but the gentle curve of the ground blocked his view. To his immense relief, he heard Ty cough and the scuffle of his hands in the dirt as he tried to push himself up.

“Behave yourself,” Redjacket warned as he walked back in front of them all, rubbing his fist like it was sore.

“I’ve met Iraqi women who hit harder than you,” Ty told him, his voice rough and hoarse. But he had to cough and gasp as he said it. Zane closed his eyes and smiled slightly.

“Want some more, then, smartass?” Earflaps threatened.

“Give it a rest. I need to think on what we’re doing next,” Redjacket said crossly.

“I say we just kill ’em,” Swizzlestick offered.

“We don’t want every cop in the state crawling over this mountain looking for them,” Redjacket responded.

“So what’re you thinkin’? We don’t kill ’em; they tell the Feds we’re here. We kill ’em; the Feds come here when they don’t check in. What’s the difference? At least if they’re dead, they ain’t talkin’,” Earflaps said as he stood over Deuce with his shotgun.

Zane cast his eyes around. No matter how much he pushed his eyes to one side, he still couldn’t see Ty without raising his head. He could hear him, though, still breathing heavily from the punches to the gut they’d dealt him, no matter how hard he tried to play them off as if he wasn’t hurt. Deuce was kneeling next to Earl in the dirt; tied up and considered less of a threat; the men were paying them little attention. Zane figured they were underestimating both of them. Earl was no fragile old man, and Deuce would put up a damn good fight if he had to—he was a Grady, after all. And if they were anything like Ty, those ropes wouldn’t stop them when it got right down to it. They all seemed to be built of the same stone as these mountains.

Zane gave vent to some of his frustration and spat blood from where he’d bitten the inside of his cheek onto the dirt at the hunter’s feet, using the opportunity to push himself up some. He saw Earflaps sniff and re-grip the shotgun in his hands. He still had Ty’s gun in his belt, and Zane eyed it as he lay there.

“Well,” Redjacket said thoughtfully after a long time of thinking it over. “I’m thinkin’ they should just… disappear-like. Then they can’t tell nobody nothing,” he decided with a jerk of his head to the east.

Zane swallowed hard. Though it was four on three, these treasure-hunting bastards were armed with both their own shotguns and now Ty’s and Zane’s weapons as well. He and Ty were both hurt, although not incapable of putting up a fight. Zane and the others might have possessed the more experienced and capable fighting force, but they were seriously outgunned. You didn’t bring fists to a gunfight.

“We could dump ’em down that old well we found yonder,” Swizzlestick suggested as he held his shotgun on his hip.

“So now, Mister,” Redjacket said, moving to stand in front of Ty as he spoke. Zane shifted slightly on his side, just enough to finally be able to see Ty where he lay in the dirt. “Let’s talk,” Redjacket said to Ty as he knelt near him. “How about you just behave yourself while you and hero over there take a little walk with us. No more tricks, and we’ll leave those two alone.” He waved his hand at Earl and Deuce.

Ty glared at the man, holding his ribs as he pushed himself up from the dirt and rocked a little. “You plan to let them go?” he asked finally in a rough voice. “They’ll wander around lost for a few days, won’t be able to lead anybody back to you.”

Zane saw Earl frown and could tell he was barely resisting the urge to protest. Instead, he watched Redjacket, the de facto leader of this little trio of assholes.

Redjacket looked thoughtful as he considered Ty’s request. “Could be, but they’d still know y’all were up here,” he pointed out finally, nodding his head toward Zane. “They’d still send out search parties for you two,” he said as he waved the badge he’d taken from Ty’s pocket earlier.

Ty grunted in obvious annoyance. “Then how are you going to leave them alone?” he countered, possibly unable to help himself, considering the stress in his voice. “Lots of people know we’re out here already.”

Redjacket narrowed his eyes, looking at Ty as if he thought there might be some sort of mind-trick going on.

“If you want your prisoners to behave until you kill them, you don’t
tell
them you’re going to kill them!” Ty informed Redjacket irritably. He was very nearly shouting.

Zane narrowed his eyes, attempting to evaluate his partner as calmly as possible as his entire body trembled with adrenaline and fear. Ty was still slumped on his knees in the dirt and dried leaves of the little clearing, wincing and holding his side. Zane wondered if he had a broken rib or two or if he was just playing it up to look weaker. Hurt or not, he was definitely losing his grip on his sanity. Or doing a really good job of pretending he was. Ty continued to glare up at the man kneeling near him, his eyes flashing and his jaw clenching angrily.

“We won’t be killin’ you if we dump you in the well, now will we?” Redjacket argued.

“Holes don’t kill people. People kill people,” Ty pointed out mockingly.

Zane actually chuckled under his breath as he pushed himself halfway up. It was such a ridiculous conversation. Most captives didn’t give their captors advice on how to go about doing things or argue with them over how to dispose of bodies, and this Redjacket character was growing more and more wary, beginning to look at Ty as if he might just be insane. Crazy captives were hard to deal with. And Zane quite honestly wondered if the man wasn’t right.