All disclaimers apply.

Thanks for the reviews, folk. This chapter took a little longer, because I had troubled with my comp. Though it is full of action, so sit down and enjoy:-)

Cabin Mirage

by Nicol Leoraine

Part 3

"Move!" he barked and motioned the gun to the second door. John nodded and carefully made his way inside, only to find Jesse kneeling with his hands behind his head, and Steve´s unmoving form only inches from the legs of the other youth, also aiming the gun at his friends. John gulped down the curse as his eyes locked with Jesse, seeing his own fear mirrored in them.

"What - did you do to Steve?" asked John in a strained voice, as the other youth pushed him inside the room, next to Jesse.

"Down!" he ordered and John knelt down, taking advantage of his position and observing Steve. He was breathing and Carter saw the gash on his temple. He let out a sigh of relief, at least in his mind, as he realized that Steve was only knocked unconscious and not shot as he feared first.

"Jesse?"

"I´m okay," mouthed Travis, though he was clearly frightened. John felt the same, as the younger of the boys started to wave his gun, pointing first at John, then at Steve´s still body.

"What will we do, Terry?" he asked and his voice wasn´t more than a shout. Both doctors jerked at the sound, as the older one with short black hair and a big tattoo of an eagle on his left biceps replied him, trying to stay calm.

"Shut up, DJ! Just shut up, before you say something we will have to kill them for."

At that moment both Jesse and John hoped that DJ will stay silent, as they don´t wanted to get killed.

"Look, you can just go. We won´t tell anyone what happened," tried to reason John, sounding calm, but feeling as if his insides were trying to crawl out.

The younger one called DJ pushed the shotgun to his chin in one smooth move and John couldn´t hold back the gasp.

"What?! You think we´re nuts or what?" barked DJ and John for the first time registered his extended pupils, slightly shaking hands though it could be only from the adrenalin running through his veins.

"DJ!" yelled the older one, Terry, and pulled the gun away from John´s face. Just in time, as DJ´s finger pushed the trigger. The bullet went down, the wooden floor exploding inches from John´s right knee, sending shards of wood at them both.

First thing he registered was the ringing in his ears after the shot rung out. Seconds later came the pain in his leg and the shock. DJ jumped back, screaming at Terry, while Jesse stood and neared John.

"You! Stop!" yelled Terry pointing his gun back at Jesse.

"He´s hurt! I need to check him out. I´m a doctor. Please," it could be the sincerity emanating from Jesse´s words, or simply the fact that Terry tried to calm DJ and the last thing he needed was a freaking out doc and a dead man on his count.

"Make it short. And no quick moves."

Jesse nodded and was beside John, catching when he started to sway. He helped him to a more comfortable position, leaning at the wall, then looked at his leg. His pants were already torn, revealing a dozen of small wounds, all bleeding. John hissed as Jesse pulled a bigger piece of wood from the wound.

"Sorry," he apologized and took a look at Terry and DJ, both still arguing. Maybe he could try and run, but Jesse knew that it would mean for his friends only death, as Steve nor John would be able to follow him. The wisest thing was to help John, so he tended to his leg, shooting him another apologetic look as his actions evoked another gasp.

"It´s not so bad," whispered Jesse trying to be optimistic. John grimaced in response.

"Just the debris, no bullett. You were lucky."

"Yeah," chuckled John unhappily. "really lucky, been shoot at twice in three days. I won´t make any bets."

"Try to stay calm," advised Jesse.

"I think he´s on some drugs," said John in a hushed voice, looking at DJ. Jesse only nodded.

"Can you check on Steve? He´s unconscious pretty long time. What did they hit him with?"

"Don´t ask," was the response, as Jesse eyed the two arguing men, trying to discern if it is safe to look at Steve. Finally deciding it´s worth a try, he moved to his fallen friend and tried his pulse. Strong and normal, so it was probably only a concussion. Though it troubled him that Steve didn´t stir.

"No, we won´t kill them!" said the older of their captors as John started to listen to their conversation, while Jesse treated Steve.

"But they are a danger for us," argumented the younger one. John shuddered, thinking how close he was to die by the hand of this youth. And why?

"Still, we can´t kill them! He said it clearly - no shooting at civilians."

"That one is a cop!" DJ pointed at Steve and growled, seeing Jesse by his side. In two short steps, he grabbed Jesse´s collar and pulled him up, throwing him to the nearest wall. Jesse slid down the wall, ending next to John who watched in silent horror. He was sure someone will die, and it would probably be one of his friends, if not him.

"See? I said you!" he cocked his gun, but Terry was quicker, grabbed it from his hands and shot him a warning look. They locked eyes and John thought they´ll start fighting, but nothing happened. For two long minutes the only sounds heard were the short gasps coming from DJ and the almost unnoticable breathing of the other occupants of the room.

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Yeah, okay," said DJ and chuckled, clapping Terry´s face with a devilish grin that made John want to crawl into the nearest hole.

"So, what will we do?"

Both men looked at them, a glint in their eyes indicating an idea forming in their heads. John shivered, his mouth suddenly dry.

"Hostage. A hostage can´t hurt, what do you say, DJ?"

"Hm. But what will our boss say, if we bring one of them?"

Terry shrugged.

"He said we need a clear pathway. Well, even if they spot us, they won´t fire if we have a hostage."

"Sounds good," agreed DJ readily. "But which one?"

Terry grimaced, measuring the three of them.

"The cop is too dangerous for us, not saying he´s still unconscious. We don´t need a sleeping beauty slowing us down. That goes to your darling too," said Terry, looking straight at John.

"You shot him in the leg, he can´t walk."

"So...?"

"So that leaves us with the Doc. Yeah, we can handle him all right, what do you say, Doc?"

Jesse looked at them with eyes wide with fear.

"No," said John and tried to stand, but DJ aimed his gun at his chest, looking ready to shoot.

"Just give me the excuse," he pleaded with sick fascination.

"It´s okay, Carter," whispered Jesse, looking ready to faint, but nevermind getting up to his feet. "I´ll go." He knew that when Steve wakes up, he´ll have a better chance to find him, and also knew that John would probably slow the guys down. With DJ´s attitude, he didn´t think Carter could make it out alive.

"See? Doc wants to go. Now what about you two?"

"Tie them up," ordered Terry.

"How?"

"Use the rope I saw down in the kitchen. DJ, bring it."

"Why me?"

"Cause I said it, and ´cause I don´t want you to kill those three while I´ll leave you alone."

DJ frowned but with a shrug left the room. John let out a relieved sigh, though he didn´t feel good. The throbbing pain in his knee was accompanied by the old headache, even his back protested to the position he was in. But all his discomfort seemed trivial, when he looked at Jesse. His skin was white and his hands were shaking, though the doctor ´s face seemed calm, almost detached. DJ returned with a nylon rope.

"We should leave, Terry. The clouds are back, I think the storm will start in a while. I don´t want to stay there for another day, the last night was enough," complained the youth and Jesse was first with tied hands. Steve was the second and John gulped down a silent protest as DJ tied also the detectives legs. Though when it came to John, he couldn´t supress the hiss of pain, as the motion jarred his bad knee. Jesse opened his mouth, but John quickly shook his head. DJ only chuckled, making sure the ropes are tight enough.

"Okay, I´m finished. Wanna say good bye to your friend?" asked DJ, but before John could respond, he saw the swishing barrel and then nothing.

Someone was picking at his knee with white hot needles. He didn´t like the feeling and tried to push away, sending waves of pain through his leg. He groaned and quickly opened his eyes.

"You?"

Red haired girl was kneeling next him, with a knife in her hand. John blinked, his vision blurred. When he spotted the knife, he jerked away, back to the wall.

"Hush, it´s for the ropes," said the girl and quickly cut the nylon ropes first on John´s legs, then hands. John rubbed his wrists with a moan and tried to sit up, when the world spinned and the only thing keeping him upside was the girl.

"You have blood all over your face," stated the girl and helped him to a sitting position. John closed his eyes, his breath coming out in quick gasps as he tried to supress the creeping nausea.

"Where?" he asked after a minute, in which the girl cut also Steve´s ropes.

"You´re in the cabin," said the girl, confused.

"No. Where´s Jesse?"

"Your friend? That small one?"

"Yeah," said John, rather then nodding. His head felt like it can explode any second, a fact which he won´t mind, as his fingers traced the long gash on his left temple and down his face. It was all sticky and his fingers were covered in red. The blood alone made him turn to his side and vomit.

"They took him to the caves, I think."

"No, the sheriff-" John spit out, trying to cast off the acid taste in his mouth.

"He knew about the cave. They won´t return,"

"Oh, then try the other cabin. It´s on the north, the third cabin by the stream. I think they´re heading there."

"How - do you know that?" wondered John and observed the girl. She looked taller now, but it was probably due to the fact that John was half lying on the floor, while she stood above him. Her red hairs were dirty as well as her face, though she wore jeans and shirt, which looked almost clean. Green eyes sparkled, when she opened her mouth to answer, but it was interrupted by a groan coming from the other man.

"Steve?" asked John and leaned forward. The blackness almost overwhelmed him. By the time he opened his eyes again, the girl´s back was all he saw.

"Hey! Wait! Who are you?" he asked in scream that was no louder than a whisper. She was gone.

"Uuh," moaned Steve Sloan, blinking and ruefully touching his head. Ouch," he exclaimed at the tenderness.

"Steve? Come on, wake up," pleaded John, cursing his weakness as he tried vainly to stand.

"Carter? What happened?" muttered Steve and slowly sat up. The room wavered a bit and he had a splitting headache, but he was still alive.

"Ah, nothing much. Just the average shooting. Jesse was taken as a hostage. I don´t know how long ago. But I saw the girl and she told me where to go."

"What?" asked Steve, more than a little confused. He blinked and frowned as everything returned to him.

"I heard some noise and pulled out my gun. I just opened the doors, when something hit me."

"Probably a barrel of the gun."

"God, Carter! Are you okay?" he asked, seeing the blood on his face. John nodded, though it was the only move he was able to make at the moment as another wave of dizziness sent him facing the floor. Steve get up and was next to him, taking notice of the blood on his pants.

"Are you shot?"

"No, just the debris," mumbled John hoping for some relief. "Help me up."

"I don´t think it´s-"

"They took Jesse. We have to go, or they will kill him."

Steve gritted his teeth at those harsh words. Jesse was his friend, his business partner and almost a family. But John was also a friend and Steve knew he shouldn´t move him.

"First thing first," he said and looked around. If he could remember, one of the men kicked his gun out from his hands, so maybe - just maybe, they didn´t take it with them. No such luck. Steve realised his badge is also missing and cursed. It will be hell to pay at the station if he doesn´t get his gun back - not mentioning Jesse.

"You - stay here!" he ordered and left the room. John didn´t even had a time to object, when Steve returned a bandage and tape in his hands.

"I found it in the bathroom downstairs. I´m sorry, there wasn´t any antiseptic or alcohol." Steve knelt down and put the bandage on his head, hoping to stop the bleeding.

"Can you tell me what happened?"

"I saw that girl and she warned me, but I-" John hissed as Steve pushed at the wound.

"Sorry. You said?"

"I didn´t listen. We heard the noise and Jesse called at you, but you didn´t respond, so we went up to check it out. Stupid, I know," John grimaced and recalled the events, stopping with the girl.

"She cut the ropes, with the knife."

"What knife?" asked Steve. The floor was covered with many things, but the knife was missing.

"She was here, I swear," insisted John.

"Okay, I believe you," assured him Steve, though only halfly convinced.

"She told me where to find him, Steve," said John checking out the bandage.

"How are you feeling, John?"

"Queasy," confessed Carter and held out his hand. "Will you help me up now?"

"You sure?"

"Look, we can´t stay here forever. My head will hurt everywhere, and Jesse is running out of time. So yes, I´m sure."

Steve helped him up, supporting his body when the room spun. After a while John pushed him away and tried to steady himself, taking notice of his knee. It burned but it was mostly a flesh wound and he could walk, even if limping.

"Okay, what now?" asked John as he hobbled down the stairs. The girl could´ve probably told them more about where Jesse was taken, but he doubted she will appear - not with Steve by his side. The weather really started to change, the sky was dark and the wind got stronger. The only hope that John had was that the wind will scatter the clouds.

"We will return to the cabin and try the phone. It should work by now, the storm wasn´t so bad the last night. And I think Todd mentioned something about transmitter. We´ll call the sheriff."

"That´s all?" wondered John.

"For you, yes. I´ll go and look for Jesse."

"Whoa - what are you talking about?" stopped John shortly. "You want to leave me out of this?"

"Carter," growled Steve, "You´re hurt, you have trouble walking. I don´t see how you can possibly help-"

"How about I´m a doctor? If you foolishly go to rescue Jesse, you´ll probably need one. Not to mention Travis. And you can´t just go inside - you need someone to cover your back."

"And that would be you?" asked him Steve sarcastically, but shook his head, seeing the hurt in John´s eyes.

"Sorry Carter, but no. We´re going to the cabin and see from here," said Steve and John muttered a silent okay.

The walk back to their cabin wasn´t much fun, they had to stop several times as John felt the pressure building up inside his skull. A red stain was soaking through the bandage on his head and the feeling of light-headedness stopped him from doing smart remarks about Steve´s chances to save Jesse alone.

The truck was there. It was something Steve feared most - that they would take the car and make a pretty headstart. Though John had the keys, it wasn´t a big problem to turn on the engine, surely not for someone who could turn down the alarm in the house.

Limping, Steve left John by the couch in front of the cold hearth and get into his room, frantically shuffling through his bag. With a triumphant yelp he pulled out his spare gun, checked the cartridge and put it to the holster. It was time to look for the phone. He stopped and blinked. The cord was cut. Taking a turn he cursed, and reached into his pocket - but his cell phone was gone. Steve frowned at the implications.

"John - do you know where is that transmitter?"

"Should be on the first floor - in the room next to mine. My father used it as a workroom."

Steve took two steps at a time and he felt cold ran through his veins, when the doors to the room were open. He draw his weapon and in two swift moves was inside - aiming at nothing. A curse left his lips as he took in the sight of a broken transmitter. It looked like someone took few swings at it with an axe. As Steve was walking by the window, his eyes fell on John´s truck.

"Give me your keys," said Steve, startling John from his thoughts.

"What?"

"Keys from the car," urged him Steve.

"You found the transmitter?"

"It´s broken," uttered Steve and was outside. John frowned as he heard the coughing of his engine, trying to start, then slamming of the car doors. Carter winced at the sound, and the front doors slammed with such force he thought they´ll fly off.

"Those bastards!" growled Steve and paced the room, his hand running through his light hair.

"They tampered with the car?" asked John in a quiet voice and Steve stopped. He had an urge to yell at Carter, because he seemed so calm. If it wasn´t for him, they would never come and... Steve stopped himself, realizing what a bullshit it was. He was angry at Carter, yeah, but only because he was there. If it was Jesse on the couch and Carter gone, he would´ve yelled at him. So instead of an explosion, Steve let out a sigh and sagged down next to John.

"Yes," was his reply. "They cut the cords on the phone, broke the transmitter and tampered with your car. I also can´t find my cell phone, and I´m sure you won´t find yours. They made it clear we can´t call help."

"But why didn´t they took the car?"

Steve shrugged.

"It could be a trail. What if someone spot the car, someone who knows whom it belongs to? I think they don´t wanted to take such risks."

"So you think they´re walking on their own?"

"Most probably. How are you doing, John?"

Carter sighed, contemplating his answer.

"Can you bring me my bag? I think we´ll need it, and I have some Tylenol there." Steve brought down the bag and John quickly swalloved two Tylenols, handing the pack also to Steve, knowing he´s probably fighting the same headache.

"Tell me again where is that cabin?" asked him Steve.

"Up the stream, we can find it,"

"No, I can find it. You´re staying here."

"What if Jesse get hurt? You aren´t a doctor."

"And you are not a cop," quipped Steve.

"Still, we should stay together. Two pair of eyes see more."

"My dad will kill me, not talking about your grandmother."

John chuckled.

"Yeah well - that´s the last of our problems. Come on - we should get on our feet, till I have some energy left," said Carter and tried to stand up, completely forgetting about his leg. He grimaced and sit back, trying it once again. Steve watched him with apprehension.

"No, stay here," he exclaimed and raised his hand as John started to protest.

"Just for a minute. I´ll look at the car again and see if it´s repairable." John shut his mouth and frowned.

"Do you know something about cars?"

"I should," stated the detective calmly. "I was a racer few years ago. Every racer should know his machine, otherwise it would be a suicide. If I manage to repair the car, we could be at the cabin sooner than Jesse." As Steve walked out of the door, John heard him say:

"Try not to fall asleep."

Thinking how stupid warning it was, as John was a doctor and said this more than once to his patients, Carter fidgetted on the couch trying to find a more comfortable position. As it proved to be impossible, he resignedly grabbed his medical bag and started to shuffle through its contents. Thermometer, some bandages and antiseptics... stethoscope...

John yawned. His eyelids became heavy, as if the gravity was pulling them down and John soon succumbed to a troubled sleep, totally ignoring his own advices.

Steve emerged from under the hood with a sigh, his forehead creased in concern, not because the car, but Jesse and the danger he was in. He had also a hard time to decide about Carter. While the young doctor was pretty adamant to join him in the rescue, Steve doubted it was a good idea. If John wasn´t injured, he wouldn´t think it over twice, but this wasn´t the case.

Endangering himself was one thing, drag a civilian with him was other. Steve shook his head and returned to the repair.

It was still weird how they could get themselves into problems normal people never experience. Then Steve chuckled, realising none of them is "normal" - one look at they past and every "normal" person would tell them, they should never meet again. But then - he wouldn´t live the way he lives now - and he appreciated his father and friends too much to separate from them.

As his thoughts wandered towards more pressing problems, a popping sound was heard. Steve gave a victorious cry and clapped the hood close, turning to get inside the car.

A clicking sound from behind stopped him death in his tracks, every muscle in his body tensing.

"Good," said a voice colored with satisfaction.

"Not again," mumbled Steve and reached for his gun.

"Ts, ts," came the instant reply, "I wouldn´t do it," advised the creamy voice. Steve shortly closed his eyes, taking a deep calming breath as all the stress seemed to morph into cold anger.

"Just put those hands behind your head - very slowly. My trigger finger is getting itchy."

Steve did as he was told, realising he was at disadvantage. Nor would him getting injured help Jesse or Carter, in fact.

"Turn - slowly," recommended the voice and Steve looked into the face of his captor.

The man holding the police S&W in his right hand was maybe a year or two younger than Steve, though the lines around his eyes indicated he didn´t lead an easy life. Dark skin, black eyes staring at Steve coldly and the same dark hair implied southern origins. The man was lover than Steve, but well muscled.

"Why don´t you just leave us the hell alone?!" growled Steve.

"My, my... aren´t we a little pushy? I´m not stupid like those kids, cop!" The last world was almost spat out and Steve mentally cringed. Their chances of coming out of this alive were diminishing with every word. He surely caught the glint of hate and something else - maybe satisfaction?

"Then what are you doing here?"

"Repairing the mistakes my kids made."

"I doubt they´re your kids," objected Steve.

"Doesn´t really matter," shrugged the man and pointed at the house.

"Your pal is inside?"

Steve´s thoughts were racing and he had to stop himself from blunting out the fast reply.

"Your "kids" shot him in the leg. He can´t walk, I had to leave him there." Steve tried to sound convicing, frowning at the man.

"Well, it´s not really important where he´ll die - if at the cabin from bleeding or here from a bullet in his head," chuckled the man and motioned for Steve to walk inside the house.

"You know, if you´ll tell me he´s inside, maybe I can stop my twitchy finger."

Steve glared at him and with anger replied:

"I´m not a liar!"

As they walked back, he was making as much noise as he could without getting suspicious. He was hoping that perhaps John heard him talking and will hide, but Steve´s body prepared for the fight as they neared the parlour. If Carter was still there, he´ll have to act - fast.

With a stiffled gasp, Steve closed his eyes.

"Okay, I take it you´re right. Come on, we have an appointment to make with your young friend."

Opening his eyes, Steve followed his captor without resistance. John was safe - now it was time to help Jesse. They left the house without a backward glance, though Steve felt a set of eyes watching them- from behind the trees.

The next chapter will be the last, so stay tuned - it should be up after Christmas. So if you have some ideas, read and review, please. It can help me write faster:-)

PS: Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to you all, I hope year 2005 will bring us more or look at