Shallow Creek

He’d fired six shots already, but the pistol’s weight told him he had plenty of bullets left.  Hit by a surge of paranoia, he clicked the magazine out and saw a lot of brass in the cutouts.  More than enough to kill his asshole brother.

He looked at Michelle again and called to her, but she only mumbled in response.  He moved away from the wall and gently rolled her over.  On the pretty white tank-top under her red blouse, a different shade of red bloomed.  Brendan checked her back to see if the bullet had gone clean through.  He peeled her shirt up off her wet back and saw the exit wound clear as day, and also saw the copious flow of blood emanating from the hole.

At least the bastard hadn’t used a hollow-point round, otherwise she’d probably be dead already.  Moving her wasn’t the ideal next step, but either was sitting in plain sight of anyone moving from the porch to the trucks.  Brendan lifted Michelle as gently as he could and strode to the woodshed.  He grunted with the pain in his arm, but she absolutely shrieked in agony, tensing up and trying to wriggle from his grasp.  Most men carrying a hot chick in their arms were stepping across the threshold of a new house, probably hoping to get laid.  As Brendan lowered Michelle to the ground, he just hoped she’d live to cross the threshold of any house again.

He applied pressure to her stomach wound, ignoring her pained cries.  Each second that slogged by ate away at him as he prayed none of her internal organs had ruptured.  The blood looked clean enough, but he wasn’t a doctor.

Someone raced across gravel from the front of the cabin.  Brendan tried to look around the shed to see who, but his vantage point hadn’t been well thought through and sucked.  When truck doors opened and closed, and then an engine fired up, Brendan let go of Michelle and jumped up to see his brother’s red truck take off.

He’d already killed the three henchmen he knew of, and it was more than likely Grant in the pickup, so Brendan lifted Michelle again and ran for the house.  She moaned with every jolt, but he had to get her medical attention ASAP.

The door was already open when he stormed across the porch, but he stopped himself before blindly running in.  After a quick peek inside to confirm no hostile threats lay in ambush, Brendan carried Michelle in and gently put her down on a couch under the big window facing the porch.

A few quick shakes roused Agent Tyson from his unwanted nap.  The agent immediately looked to Spee’s empty chair.  “Where is she?” he mumbled, like his mouth was full of marbles.

Brendan grabbed a knife off the mantelpiece above the fireplace and worked at Tyson’s bonds.  “I think my brother took her.” He focused on slicing off the crude restraints.  “I’ll go after her, but how many men does Grant have here?”

Tyson rubbed his free wrists and stood, but wobbled sideways before Brendan could grab him.  Brendan helped the man back to his feet and repeated his question.

“Just the four,” Tyson said, gingerly touching his own face.  “Three inside and one always outside on guard.”

“They’re all dead then.” Brendan looked for anything to use as a tourniquet for his arm, which now throbbed like death itself.

He found a shirt hanging on a chair, tore a strip out of it, and asked Tyson to bandage him up tightly.  The agent complied absently, evoking a grimace from Brendan as the fabric bit into his arm.  When Tyson finished, Brendan grabbed a cell phone off the floor and handed it to him.

“Call this in.  You’ve got to get help or Michelle’s going to bleed out.”

Tyson nodded and went to the couch to examine her wounds.  “This is bad,” was all he said.

“No shit.” Brendan knelt next to Michelle.  “I’ve got to go after them.  Are your keys in your truck?”

“Yes, but don’t go, Tenny,” she mumbled softly, sounding like a kid slipping off to sleep.

“I have to.”

With that, he nodded to Tyson, who was already tearing down a curtain from the window, probably to bundle Michelle’s torso.  That done, Brendan ran out the door.

Chapter 48

Jumping into Michelle’s truck resurfaced the dark memory of his last turn at the wheel, with her sitting next to him, moments before she screamed at him and ran off to her house.  Definitely not his best moment, but on the positive side, he’d wiped out his brother’s small army, some of whom he was sure had jumped him behind Trish’s when he’d gone out with Michelle.  Revenge was sweet, but not if it cost Michelle her life.

He grabbed at the ignition, but came up empty.  The keys were gone.  He shuffled around, looking under his butt to see if she’d left them on the seat.  Nope.  He checked the visor, but found nothing.  Pulling up the oversized central console lid revealed Michelle’s secret hiding place for her keys.  He slammed the key home and urged the truck to life.  Immediately the seat powered forward, returning to Michelle’s preset, but Brendan fumbled with the controls to cancel the operation before his knees broke through the dashboard.