Raylan knew he had to be getting close. The road couldn't have been more than a couple miles ahead of him, and unless Tim had been hitchhiking, he couldn't have made it that far. The knot in the base of his stomach kept tightening with every step that he took…with every step that he hadn't found Tim.
He was almost afraid to, though. He had no idea what he would see. In his heart of hearts, he had to have faith that Tim would be alive and kickin'. He hadn't been making it up when he'd said Tim was a tough little son of a bitch; if anyone could survive out here, it was Tim.
But after that guy…there were two more chasing him. He had to hope Tim hadn't hit the road, because papa bear would be waiting for him, apparently. Then there was the other one that was supposed to be catching up to him. Tim was good, but was he that good?
Raylan had no choice but to believe that he was, because the only other alternative…
No. He was gonna find him, and he was gonna find him alive. There were no two ways about it, no if's, and's, or but's.
His heart rose into his throat when he caught sight of movement ahead. It was too big to be a fox, or even a deer, and moving too fast.
But then it fell when he realized that it wasn't Tim, either. It was a girl; he recognized the face, older as it was. Eleanor Higgins.
She shrieked when she saw him, but he managed to catch her about the arms when she all but ran into him.
"Stop it! Calm down!" Normally, he would've been a little more gentle, but he was working on a time limit, and her feelings were the least of his concern. Only, when she got to rambling, he had no choice but to listen.
"Thank God," she cried, her body nearly doubling over with her hysterics. "He was—they were chasing us. Back there—I was so scared! That deputy, he—"
"He what? Where's the deputy?"
"He saved me," Eleanor said, her voice hardly more than an incomprehensible wail. "That man, he was there and I was running. He just shoved me and told me to run, and I ran."
Raylan was starting to lose patience he didn't have. "Eleanor!" he snapped, and finally, he knew he had her attention. Her saucer-dish eyes were fixed on him like he was the Messiah himself. "Where is the deputy?"
She almost broke down right there, but Raylan gave her a shake that seemed to keep her on point. "Back there," she said, waving her hand back the direction she'd come from. En "He told me to run, and I did, and he ran at that man. He was—"
"Eleanor, I need you to stay here. Police are coming, so you hold tight and send some my way when they do."
And with that, he turned and ran off the way she'd pointed. Tim was up ahead, she'd said, and not far it didn't seem like.
Raylan ran like he'd never run before, ducking low branches and jumping over roots like a damn Olympian, and all the while willing himself to run just a little faster until at last, he could make out more shapes.
There was just the one, though, standing up ahead in a small clearing. Just the one, and he was too big to be Tim. He had a hand outstretched…Raylan knew a pointed gun when he saw it.
He barely even broke stride, reaching into his holster and pulling his gun around on the big guy in the camo just a few yards ahead. One bang, and the bastard dropped like a rock.
Raylan didn't stop until he was nearly on top of the guy, and then it was only to make sure he was dead.
The hole in the side of his head was good enough for Raylan.
He heard a noise, then, and he turned quickly to see another figure. The one the gun had been pointed at, struggling to push himself up against the base of the tree. And even covered in mud and rain, even bloody with torn clothes and messy hair, Raylan knew in an instant who it was.
"Tim," he breathed. His legs were moving faster than his mind could command them, carrying him over to the younger man. He dropped down next to him, his knees sliding in the mud as he reached for him.
Only…he paused, when Tim flinched back from him. Head reared back against the tree, he regarded Raylan with eyes like a wounded dog that'd been caught in a trap. Raylan reached for him again, and a strangled sort of sound broke from Tim's throat, his nose flaring as his hands struggled for purchase in the muddy ground.
Raylan knew what it was…or, at least, what he thought it was, though he couldn't decide if it was for better or worse. The pallor of his skin, the way he shook…that far-off look in his eyes…well, he'd spent long enough at Glencoe to've learned the tell-tale signs of shock.
He had to try and calm him down. He told himself that it was medically necessary, but he knew…he just wanted Tim not to be so scared.
"Tim…" he said gently, scooting in just a little bit closer. All his movements were slow, so as not to spook him. "Tim, it's me. It's Raylan. I'm not gonna hurt you." But he wasn't going to sit there, either. He moved fast this time, wrapping his arms around Tim and pulling him away from the tree and against his chest as carefully as he could manage.
At first, Tim resisted. He pushed and shoved and did his God's honest best, but he could hardly move, and Raylan held firm. "You're okay. You're safe...I've got you, now…I've got you."
After a long moment, Tim seemed to come around. His chest still heaved, but his hands, instead of pushing away from Raylan, started to fist in his jacket. He had yet to really relax, though.
"Raylan," Tim finally said, almost frenetically, his voice catching as his chest heaved for breath he didn't seem to be able to take. "There's a girl, Raylan. Ellie, she—"
"She's fine," Raylan said. As he spoke, he shrugged out of his Marshal jacket and pulled it around Tim's shoulders. It wouldn't do much, but if Tim really was going into shock, he needed to keep him warm. "I need you to tell me where you're hurt, okay?"
Tim nodded, but he seemed to have a hard time focusing. His eyes were everywhere, when they weren't closed; his head kept jerking at the slightest sound, like he was still on alert. Raylan didn't doubt that he was.
It didn't matter; Raylan was good at reading clues. He'd already seen the make-shift bandage tied around Tim's shoulder, and could follow the rip in his shirt that came out from under it to see the cut that ran down his chest. But then, he looked down to where Tim's hands had fallen since he took off his jacket, and found the real cause for concern.
He'd been shot.
"Jesus," he hissed, sitting up on his knees so that he could get to the bottom of his shirt to rip off a long strip. "Move your hands."
Tim looked up at him, his shaking hands gripping tighter on his leg.
"Tim, move your damn hands! I need to stop the bleeding." He didn't mean to be so harsh with him, but he was starting to panic. The blood on Tim's shoulder would've been enough to worry him; this was a helluva lot worse.
Tim pulled his hands back a little, just enough for Raylan to get the strip of fabric around underneath his leg. "This'll hurt," he warned. Gritting his teeth, he jerked the bandage tight.
A choked sound – a scream, Raylan could tell, bit back because Tim really was a tough little son of a bitch – broke from Tim's throat, his fingers digging into his leg above the bandage as Raylan finished wrapping the rest of the fabric around it.
As soon as he was finished, Raylan took Tim's hands from his leg, holding them in one of his own as he pulled Tim back against his chest. Tim's shaking had doubled, and he hugged him close, trying his best to keep him warm.
"I need some help over here!" he shouted. The others couldn't be that far behind him. Surely they would be close by now.
"Fine," Tim choked out, the shivers so bad he could hardly get a word out between his chattering teeth. "I'm fine."
"Damn straight," Raylan said, but he held him tighter all the same.
"It was a thing a' beauty, though…wish you'da seen it," Tim continued. He looked up at Raylan, his head falling back against Raylan's shoulder and his split lip pulling into a weak, dazed grin. "I got three."
Because of course, that'd be what Tim's mind would wander its way back to.
He donned a smile of his own, looking around for signs of flashlights or footsteps. He knew he hadn't been running that fast. As he searched, he spoke, and if he sounded a little distracted, Tim didn't seem to notice.
"And I got the other two," he said, "so it seems to me we got ourselves the royal flush." His breath caught as Tim grimaced. The shaking was getting worse…Raylan's teeth were nearly chattering just from holding him.
But Tim was still smiling. "Raylan?" he asked after a moment.
"Yeah?"
"Don't take this the wrong way…" He shifted. Winced. Settled. Shivered. "…but there's something seriously wrong with your hometown."
Raylan chuckled. "And here I thought the hillbilly lunatics were one of its winning features."
With a noise that sounded a little like a snort, maybe like a laugh, Tim fell quiet again.
A few seconds passed by in silence, each ticking by like an hour.
"What the hell's keeping them?" Raylan thought aloud, but Tim didn't seem to hear him; or if he did, he didn't say anything.
Just when Raylan was starting to get worried – he didn't want Tim passing out or falling asleep on him – Tim stirred again.
"Raylan?"
This exchange was getting a little too familiar.
"Yeah?"
"How'd you find me?"
Raylan thought for a moment. "Honestly?" he asked.
"No," Tim muttered dryly. "Lie to me."
Raylan could hear the edge of pain in his voice, but there was a sort of tired humor there too. He decided to focus on the latter…it made him feel better. That question, though…how had he found Tim? Really, it hadn't been much more than a guess. A gut feeling.
He shrugged. "Shot in the dark."
"Shot in the dark…" Tim repeated thoughtfully.
"I could tell you I felt you in my heart of hearts, if that's what you want to hear."
Another sorta-laugh. Really more of a cough this time, and Raylan really didn't care for the way it rattled in the younger man's chest.
"Nah," he said. "First's more like you. You don't do pretty." As he spoke, Raylan noticed his hand going for the make-shift bandage on his leg.
He intercepted Tim's hand before he could. "You don't need to fidget with that."
"Don't see my fidgeting's gonna do much harm."
"Humor me."
Tim humored him. His hand disappeared back into the confines of Raylan's jacket, probably gone to hold the cut on his chest.
Raylan didn't have the heart to fuss at him again.
Instead, he changed the subject entirely. "My turn," he said. "You got a question…now I get one."
Tim's head lolled a little. Raylan told himself he did it on purpose…for effect. "Fire away, boss."
"Why'd you call me? Out of anyone else?"
"Why d'you think?"
Actually, Raylan could think of plenty of reasons. Logical, completely unsatisfying reasons: no extensions to go through for him, he tended to answer the phone, Tim happened to know his number.
"I asked you, remember?"
Tim nodded, but only barely. He seemed to think for a moment, but finally… "Knew you'd come."
He said it like it was simple. Like that was all Raylan needed to understand his thinking.
It wasn't. "But why?" Raylan pressed, his stomach twisting itself into knots as Tim's eyes started to slide closed. He wasn't gonna last much longer…those bastards needed to hurry.
"Dunno," Tim said. Raylan could hardly hear him, his voice was so quiet and half-slurred to boot. Still, Tim had that damn smile on his face, even as his eyes slid closed. "Call it a shot in the dark."
