Chapter Nine: Fathers and Sons
They had been traveling for some time and although it was unnecessary, Ron held up one hand to indicate quiet and then pressed the other to the earphone that resided in his ear. He knew several pairs of eyes were on him, but as he finished listening, he focused on the worried blue ones of Mark Sloan.
"They think they have located the cabin, the pickup you described is parked out front."
"Did they see Steve?"
The question more resembled a prayer and Ron wished he could answer positively. In a move that was both awkward and rare for him he reached over the seat and briefly touched the doctor on the arm. "They didn't see anyone, but they only did the one fly over, they are looking for a place to land . . . " Ron stopped as his earpiece crackled to life again.
"The closest open area is at the end of the road we have to turn down, they are going to land there and wait for us," Ron informed the concerned group. "Step on it," Ron instructed the driver. "I'll tell you where to go."
Sloans' Deck
Steve had somehow remained conscious, he didn't really know how; his body was so consumed by pain it blocked out everything else. He willed himself to take slow breaths and eventually the pain became easier to manage, it was still there and under other circumstances it would have been debilitating, but he knew that if he wanted to survive he had to overcome it. He reached trembling fingers towards Donnie's neck and felt the beating pulse. He was relieved; Donnie had tried to help him and had in all probability just saved his life. His attention was then drawn back to the area of the cabin that had been his home.
"I see ya movin boy, and I'ma coming to finish the job, just as soon as I get myself free of this chain," Cletus cackled. Another gunshot then reverberated through the cabin and Steve heard the chain clatter.
Using the small amount of strength that remained in his battered and abused body Steve slid out from under Donnie and scooted on his bottom till his back rested against the frame of the door then using long tired leg muscles, started pushing himself upright. He was aware of Cletus struggling to reload the shotgun and knew his time was limited. Steve heard the snap of the barrel closing at the same time as he heard the snap of a piece of wood as a car wheel drove over it.
Sloans' Deck
The rest of the journey in the SUV had been tense. Mark had perched on the edge of the seat with Amanda's comforting hand on his back. Jesse, who was occupying the cramped confines of the back seat with Tucker, had seen the boy's eyes lock on Mark and could have sworn he saw tears welling up in them.
"Tucker, what's wrong?" He questioned softly.
The question and the compassionate tone of the voice had startled Tucker. No one had ever cared enough to ask him that question and in such a kind manner. He dropped his head and using the back of his hand wiped at the tears that had gathered in his eyes. Leaning closely so that no one else could hear he whispered a response that caused Jesse to suppress a gasp.
"I know my grandpa, he ain't got no love for cops, I'm afraid he has already killed the doc's son," he whispered with a shrug towards Mark. "He seems like a real good guy and I think he really woulda helped me without what my pa and grandpa did."
Jesse settled back into his seat and found his eyes straying to the figure that was hunched over and peering intently through the front window of the vehicle, it was then he saw the outline of the building coming into view. He barely heard Ron's instructions for them to stay put until he had secured the scene; he was too intent on seeing some sign of his best friend.
Sloans' Deck
Through pain blurred eyes that were further clouded by sweat he braced himself against the door and using both hands tried to steady his gun and focus on the man who was raising the shotgun towards him. He hesitated as the man wavered and looked as if he might fall over, but in that moment Steve knew it had been a ruse, the cagey old hunter was using the fact that Steve played by the rules against him and with a cackle he quickly squeezed the trigger.
Sloans' Deck
Ron might as well have spoken to himself, his orders were completely disregarded, in fact Mark had not even allowed the vehicle to stop before he flung his door open and jumped out. His progress was soon halted by the muffled sound of a shotgun retort. He froze in place listening for some sound that would tell him if the shooter had hit his target. After a brief silence an answering shot was heard, and this one propelled Ron into action, it had definitely been a handgun and he would bet it was police issue.
"Stay here," he called as he and the agent who had been driving moved towards the cabin. As he made his way forward the rustling behind him told him he had once again been ignored. He glanced over his shoulder to see Mark, with Amanda tight at his side and Jesse and Tucker slightly behind him. Doctor Travis seemed to have a comforting hand on Tucker's arm and much to Ron's amazement the boy seemed to appreciate it. Those thoughts had passed quickly and were forgotten as he looked towards the cabin and saw a struggling figure stumbling towards him dragging another body. It took a second glance for it to register that the bedraggled and bloodied man was Steve Sloan.
Sloans' Deck
As the wood in the door by Steve's head had exploded he paused only briefly before he pulled the trigger on his gun and was rewarded by the sickening thud as the bullet hit its mark. Cletus gripped the gun tighter for a moment before it fell from dying fingers; he then stumbled and fell to his knees. He looked up at Steve and blinked heavily, disbelief etched on his face.
"Kilt by a city slicker cop and betrayed by my own flesh 'n' blood, but I can die happy knowing my good for nothing boy is dead. See ya in hell, Sloan." As he spat out those last words, he dropped to one side and was gone.
Realizing that finally the old coot was dead Steve grabbed Donnie under the arms as best he could, moved from the door and towards the pickup. He had gone but a few steps when the voice he had thought he would never hear again spoke his name. It was deepened by emotion and had cracked, but it was the sweetest sound he had ever heard.
Sloans' Deck
Ron was practically shoved out of the way as Mark Sloan caught sight of his son. He called his name and ran, reaching him just as the last of the adrenaline that had been driving him left his body. Steve collapsed against his father, but not before giving him the gift of a smile.
Mark went to the ground with Steve and cradled him in his arms. He was completely unaware of the activity as Ron set about securing the cabin and the scene. Jesse had gone back to the vehicle for medical supplies and Tucker had dropped to his knees beside his father and shocked even himself when he reached out and took his father's hand.
"Pa, it's me, Tucker, kin you hear me?" He questioned quietly. The hand he was holding twitched slightly and Donnie's eyes opened.
"I hear ya, boy," he responded gruffly, and then after a brief pause, "I'm glad yer here."
"Tucker, I need to check on your dad," Amanda requested softly.
Jesse had set about evaluating Steve, it was obvious he had not been treated kindly, but the most serious by far was the gunshot wound. There was significant bruising on his throat and for a moment Jesse lost his concentration as his tried to figure out what might have caused the damage, he was pulled back from his thoughts by a groan from his patient.
"Steve, can you hear me? Come on, open your eyes."
"Steve, Son, please, I need to know that you can hear us."
That had done it; the sound of his father's voice pleading with him had caused the blue eyes to flutter open. "Dad," he forced out through his damaged larynx. "Glad you're here, missed you." He had then once again succumbed to his raging fever and injuries.
Mark had turned eyes drenched with tears up to Ron. "We have to get him to the hospital."
Ron laid a comforting hand on his shoulder, "I know, another helicopter is en route, they are going to lower a Stokes so we can get both of them out of here, the other 'copter is already waiting out by the main road, it will transport you to Community General as soon as he has been lifted out. Doctor Travis they have room for you if you want to ride along with Steve."
Jesse nodded distractedly as he continued to evaluate his patient, he was not happy with his breathing or his erratic heart rate. "Fine, whatever it takes."
The thumping of rotor blades announced the arrival of a large helicopter and within moments a basket had appeared over the side and was descending towards the ground. While Jesse continued to work on Steve, Amanda, with Ron and the other agents, helped load a stabilized Donnie into the basket and watched as he rose and then disappeared over the side of the chopper. When the basket landed again they very gently moved Steve into it and it was only then that Mark released the hand he had been holding since they had arrived. As soon as the basket reached the 'copter a second time a harness was lowered and Jesse was strapped in and made the journey up and inside the craft which then quickly banked and headed towards the hospital.
As Mark looked up he felt someone come stand beside him and turned and found Tucker gazing at him with sad eyes. "Come on, Son; let's go meet them at the hospital." He then wrapped a fatherly arm around the young man's shoulders and unknowingly changed the boy's future with that simple gesture.
Sloans' Deck
There were those smells again, not as bad as they usually were; they actually smelled a little cleaner than normal, almost like an antiseptic and the floor seemed to be a little softer, maybe he was finally getting used to things. His silent appraisal of his surroundings was interrupted by a loud bang and he sat bolt upright. His reaction had startled everyone in the room, but none more than the young aide that had knocked over the tray table as she had emptied the garbage. As the initial shock wore off Steve felt the pain roar through his body like an angry wind and then gentle hands were helping him to lie back down. The hands were accompanied by the soft voices of his father and friends and he relaxed knowing that he was safe.
Sloans' Deck
It was sometime later when Steve rejoined the conscious world again. He opened his eyes and observed the three individuals that were sprawled in different areas of the room. A small smile touched his lips and as he became more aware of his surroundings he felt the warmth of a hand encircling his. He moved his fingers slightly and soon found himself the focus of his father's eyes.
"Welcome back," Mark offered quietly.
Steve's first attempt at a response was unsuccessful. His damaged throat, combined with the dryness that accompanied anesthesia, made him unable to speak. Mark quickly offered him some ice chips which helped to relieve some of the discomfort.
"Thanks, are you alright?" Steve croaked.
Their conversation had roused the others and Amanda and Jesse had drawn near the bed to stand beside Mark. Amanda offered a sleepy but bright smile and Jesse a lopsided boyish grin.
Their arrival had given Mark a moment to recover. Steve's inquiry as to his well being had stuck a chord. The control he had been maintaining through this entire ordeal had nearly crumbled. That Steve would be more concerned for him was overwhelming especially after what he had just endured. He clasped trembling hands and fought to take charge of his feelings once again. If he thought his battle had gone unnoticed he was wrong. Steve had watched the emotions play across his father's face, had seen him struggle to appear calm. His long fingers reached out and covered those trembling hands, and he had offered him a smile. Mark smiled back and felt the black cloud lifting away. He had his son back and that was all that mattered.
Sloans' Deck
Steve had finally convinced his dad, Jesse and Amanda to go home. He knew they were all exhausted and truth be told they had been smothering him. He needed some time alone to come to terms with everything that had happened. Those who didn't know him well might have thought that his mind was preoccupied with visions of his captivity, but in reality his thoughts were filled with images of arresting a young boy for a murder he didn't commit. He was once again reviewing the evidence in his head when he heard a hesitant knock at the door.
"Come in," Steve called huskily.
The door was pushed open to reveal a tousled haired boy with a face full of freckles.
"Tucker, come on in," Steve greeted.
Tucker stood half way in the door and half way out, his hands were now shoved in the front pockets of his jeans and he scuffed the floor with the toe of his sneaker.
"I wuz hopin' maybe you would feel up to talkin' a bit," the boy stated quietly.
Steve smiled. "Sure, please, come on in," he offered again.
A small smile touched Tucker's face as he moved into the room and sat in the chair by Steve's bed.
"How's your dad?" Steve inquired.
"That lady doctor, the purty one, she says he's gonna be just fine," Tucker responded. "How long you suppose they'll keep him in jail fer?"
"Tucker, if I have anything to do with it your father won't serve any jail time, he saved my life, and it's the least I can do after falsely arresting you."
"You and your Pa sure do like to run on with the sentences don't ya?"
Steve chuckled, he had been accused of lots of things in his life, but being overly talkative wasn't one of them.
"But that thing about Pa not going to jail, that would be real nice, he really isn't a bad feller, Grandpa just bullied him into things."
"I know that, Tucker, and I want to help both of you, just as soon as I get back on my feet."
Tucker offered another shy smile. "Your Pa says you sometimes help out kids, why would you do something like that?"
A frown creased Steve's brow, no one had ever really asked him that before, he wasn't sure if he could put it into words. "I guess the best way to describe it would be to ask you a question, Tucker."
"Asking me a question is gonna tell me why you do things with kids?" Tucker asked quizzically.
"Yes, it will," Steve responded. "Do you think your father's life could have gone differently if someone had taken an interest in him, and he had gotten away from your grandfather?"
Tucker sat for a moment considering the question before answering. "Yep, I suppose it woulda, he always said he wanted to work on cars, he has a real intrest in that kinda stuff."
Steve filed that little nugget away for later when Donnie was better and looking for work. "Ok, I have another question."
"Ok, I'm ready fer it," Tucker responded with another smile.
"Do you think your life could be different than that of your father and grandfather?"
Tucker practically beamed and his response was immediate. "Yes, Sir, I do, I might'n not thought that before but I do now, your Pa showed me that my life can be different. Even after ever'thing that grandpa had done to you he was as kind to me as iffin I was his own."
"Then you just answered your own question, Tucker. That is why I do it, some of these kids are headed down the wrong path, and if me or anyone showing an interest or caring about them stops that then it is well worth it."
"I guess I better let you get back to yer restin', do you suppose when you git to feelin' better you could teach me to box?"
"Tucker, I would love to do that," Steve said with a smile.
The smile Tucker offered in return completely altered his features. Steve had always thought he looked a little old for his age, but his face now glowed with a boyish exuberance that made Steve wonder if maybe it was his first smile of pure joy. He had then offered a shy wave and left.
Sloans' Deck
Night's shadows had darkened the room as Steve lay dozing in bed. The door was pushed open and a sliver of light shone across his face. Without even opening his eyes, he smiled and spoke. "Hi, Dad."
"And what makes you think it's me?" Mark answered back with a chuckle.
"Son's intuition."
"I thought that was father's intuition?"
"It is, but sons can have it too!"
Mark smiled as he moved and sat down beside the bed. "How are you feeling?"
"You know, Dad, I'm feeling pretty good."
Mark nodded his understanding. "I understand you had a visitor."
"How did you hear that? No wait I know, let me guess, is Tucker staying at the beach house until Donnie is better?"
"Why yes he is."
"When did that happen?"
"Well actually it happened while you were still missing, but then after he was sure his dad was going to be ok, Ron brought him back out today."
"Ron? The poster boy for FBI intimidation was chauffeuring a kid around? How in the world did you manage that?"
Mark laughed as he responded. "Actually I had nothing to do with it, Amanda arranged it."
"Oh, I see," Steve responded. "She sure can make him toe the line. But then I guess she does that with all of us."
"That she does and the sad thing is we don't even know it most of the time," Mark added.
As their chuckles died away Steve reached for his father's hand and gave it a brief squeeze. "Thank you."
"Thank me? For what?" Mark asked with a perplexed expression.
"For not giving up on me, for covering my tail on the case, for finding me and most of all for being my dad and loving me."
The End
o
o
o
o
o
o
o
o
Authors' Note: This is the first of two stories written from the same starter. Watch for Version two, coming soon from The Sloans' Deck Writing Group.