Fork In The Road

By Sapphire

Disclaimer is in chapter 1

Part 9 – Showdown

Virgil had managed to get one more of the goons when the leader had sent out his second companion after the first one had not returned from the garden. He was now sleeping peacefully next to his partner, knocked out with yet another of the pellets.

Now Virgil waited crouched behind a couple of large potted plants, watching the leader demanding to know from Jeff where his men had disappeared to. He was growing more and more agitated, waving his gun around threateningly.

Jeff was sitting on the sofa, his hands still tied behind his back, trying desperately to calm the leader down, claiming that he had no idea where the other men could be, or where his family had gone hiding.

"When I saw you coming, I told them to hide. You can have anything you want from me, just leave my family alone."

But the man was not in the mood to be placated.

Virgil thought about what he could do. He had gathered from what he'd overheard that there were more than the three modern day pirates he had seen so far, though how many exactly, he wasn't sure. More than two, but probably less than five.

With the arrival of the pirates, Jeff had told his family to hide. Where, Virgil didn't know. Back on his own Tracy Island he would have been able to make a pretty good guess, but here all bets were off. So backing off and searching for them was probably not a good idea. He would waste too much time, and then he didn't even know if he would run into one of the bad guys before he found any of the family.

On the other hand, just taking a pot shot at the leader wasn't a good option either. As erratically as he was waving his gun around, Virgil couldn't guaranty that the moment he hit him, no shots would go off and hit his father. Well, not his father, really, but close enough that he didn't want it to happen.

"They are out there, si," the leader now yelled. "They are waiting for me."

"My family is hiding. They are not here."

"I don't believe you. I know they are here. Listen," he yelled to the room, "if you want to see your daddy unhurt, you better come out."

Shit!

The goon was now holding the gun to Jeff's head, the finger on the trigger.

"I will count to three. One, two …"

Shit, shit, shit!

Virgil could not tell if the man was bluffing or not. But he could not risk it.

Quickly he stuffed his gun between the plants, together with the guns he had taken from the men he had knocked out. Then he stood up, raising his hands to shoulder level.

"I'm here," he called out. "I give up. Please, don't hurt him."

An evil grin spread over the goon's face as he now pointed his gun at Virgil.

"I knew I was right. You cannot fool me."

Then, without any warning, he pulled the trigger.

ooooo

The two Scotts and Alan were heading up the flight of stairs leading to the upper level of the house when a shot rang out from the lower living room, followed a fraction of a second later by a second shot.

Without hesitation, they all scrambled back down the stairs towards the wide double door leading to the half-open room.

The sight that presented itself took their breaths away.

On one side Virgil was sprawled on his back, bleeding profusely from a wound on his shoulder. On the other side of the room stood another Virgil, holding a gun with faint wisps of smoke coming still from the barrel and an expression of utter shock on his face.

For one terrifying moment, Scott thought Virgil had shot his counterpart, but then he saw another one of the goons lying on the floor in front of the sofa. Blood was pooling around him. A gun lay next to his hand, and Scott realized that one Virgil had shot the guy who in turn had shot at the other Virgil.

Only Virgil had been too late.

Jeff, his hands tied behind his back, was struggling to get up from the sofa and to his son on the ground.

Somehow Scott knew without a doubt that the Virgil who was wounded was his Virgil, the one from his own dimension. He didn't know how he knew. He simply knew.

He rushed over, falling to his knees next to his brother.

"Virgil!" he called, while he tried desperately to staunch the flow of blood. He wasn't paying attention to any of the others, his concentration fully on his wounded brother. "Virg."

But Virgil was out cold.

With great care and shaking fingers, he searched for his brother's pulse, while pressing down on the shoulder wound with his other hand.

He couldn't say how relieved he was, when he found the heartbeat fluttering against his fingertips.

Next, he checked for breathing. To his horror, he couldn't find any sign of Virgil's chest rising or falling. Holding his ear next to Virgil's mouth, he didn't feel any respiration.

Damn. Damndamndamn.

All Tracy boys knew how to perform CPR. They had done it countless times and had saved many lives this way. But Scott couldn't recall an instant where he had performed it on one of his brothers.

Taking a deep breath, he tried to detach himself from the fact that this was Virgil, his little brother.

It didn't work very well.

He lifted Virgil's chin, opening the airways. Then he pinched the nose closed, covering Virgil's mouth with his own. Concentrating, he gave two slow, full breaths, checking at the same time if Virgil's chest was rising or not. It was, so he gave two more breaths.

Suddenly Virgil coughed, his body convulsing. Scott held him down and after a moment his brother's eyes fluttered open.

"Scott?" he rasped weakly.

"Yes, junior, it's me," Scott replied with a forced grin.

"Good, then I found you," Virgil grinned back.

Virgil closed his eyes again and drifted off to sleep. Almost frantic, Scott checked again, but Virgil was breathing easy now, his pulse, though not exactly strong, steady.

Alan showed up with a First Aid box. Giving him a grateful smile, Scott pulled out a pair of scissors and started cutting away the clothing around the wound.

"Could you get me some water?" he asked, calmer now.

Working on his brother, he became only slowly aware of the activity around him.

The other 'Scott' had freed Jeff and had started to explain everything to him, while they hovered close to where Scott was working. The older Tracy had clearly some difficulties to understand what was going on. But with the proof before his very eyes – namely two copies each of two of his sons – there was nothing for him to do but to accept the story 'Scott' was telling him.

"What about the other pirates?" he asked, after 'Scott' had finished his tale.

"We got one on the path behind the kitchen and Alan clobbered one in one of the storage rooms," 'Scott' said.

"I've got one in the roundhouse," 'Virgil' said, his voice flat. He looked still pretty shocked. "That's where I got the gun." He looked at the weapon in his hand as if he had forgotten he was still holding it. He stepped towards the couch table and placed the gun there gingerly, almost as if he was expecting it to explode any moment.

"That means two are still missing," 'Scott' counted off.

"They're back in the garden," Virgil said, his voice low but strong. "They'll be out for a good while."

Scott, who had concentrated on Virgil's shoulder, had not noted that his brother had opened his eyes again. Before he could stop him, Virgil tried to put his good arm under him and push himself off the ground.

"No you don't," he admonished him, holding him back.

He hadn't needed to bother. With a groan Virgil fell back.

"Ouch, that hurts."

"I don't know what you expect. In case you haven't noticed, you've been shot." But there was no real reprimand in Scott's voice. He was just too relieved to see Virgil awake.

"Would you help me up, Scott?" Virgil begged. "It's undignifying lying here on the ground."

Scott hesitated, but then relented. He put his arm around Virgil's good shoulder and helped him into a sitting position.

"You're okay?" he asked in a whisper when he heard Virgil hiss in pain.

"I'm fine," his brother said. He was breathing hard. "Just give me a moment."

Scott debated with himself to lower Virgil back to the ground. It was obvious that Virgil was anything but fine. On the other hand, Virgil was old enough to know what was good for him. If he said he was okay, then Scott had to accept that. So he just supported his brother's back, until he had gotten his breath back.

"Okay, let's get up," Virgil said from between clenched teeth.

With Scott's help, Virgil made it into a standing position. He was shaky, but he pretty much managed to stay on his feet under his own power.

"How about you sit down on the sofa?" he suggested to his brother, holding him firmly at his good arm.

Virgil eyed the distance to the sofa – four steps – then nodded. "I think I can make it."

A thin sheen of sweat covered Virgil's forehead by the time they made it to the sofa, but finally he settled down, Scott at his side. Scott checked the wound, but the dressing had held, the sealant he had applied underneath was doing its job of stopping the bleeding.

"What now?" he asked.

It was clear Virgil needed more medical attention. He needed to go to a hospital and have the bullet removed from his shoulder. On the other hand, Scott wanted to get home into his own dimension as quickly as possible, preferably together with Virgil. If they got him to a hospital, there would be endless rounds of questions. He was not willing to leave Virgil's side, but he did not know how to explain that there were two Virgils and two Scotts. There was no way they would be able to start talking about parallel dimensions and gateways connecting them. It was highly doubtful anybody would believe them.

"I called WASP when those goons showed up," Jeff said. "They should be here in a short while.

"Virgil, Scott," he turned to his two standing sons, "you make yourself scarce. For the moment you two don't exist. Best would be if you could hide out in this other dimension place.

"Virgil," he now turned to the wounded Virgil on the sofa, "you're going to the hospital. If anybody asks, you work for Tracy Industries, don't forget that. Scott, I can see you won't leave his side. I wouldn't expect anything less of you. But try not to mention this other place; I would like to have my oldest son keep his career if possible. Alan, you go with them and keep an eye on them. All clear?"

"Yes, sir," was the uniform reply.

In the distance they saw a plane and a ship with the large WASP logo approaching.

tbc

This was the next to last chapter. The epilogue is to follow.