Chapter 10
Charlie forced himself to sit up.
Colby's body began to slide off his lap, and he grabbed at him with one shaking hand while the other felt for the pulse he knew wouldn't be there. Tears stung his eyes again, and he lifted his hand enough to close Colby's.
What had happened? One second Colby was talking, and the next … the next he was on his back in the water.
Charlie looked down the bank of the stream and saw Addison slumped at the bottom of a tree, head hanging, gun loose in his hand. He started, but quickly realized the man would not have stopped shooting, would not just be sitting there, unless he, too, was dead. The wound Colby had inflicted had not been instantly fatal, as he had thought. Addison had lasted long enough to kill Colby back.
Addison and Colby had killed each other.
Charlie had killed someone, too.
To save Colby … who had ended up dead anyway.
He let himself fall back again, one hand staying on Colby's face. He closed his eyes and felt Colby's blood flow out of the back of his head, where his skull used to be, and soak his own shirt.
He would die himself, now, but he didn't really care.
He just wondered how it would happen.
Animals would be attracted by all the free food, the smell of blood. He could let them do it.
Or, he could get back in the stream, find his gun. He remembered Colby wrenching it from his hand, on the porch. He had probably dropped it when Addison's final bullet tore through his brain. Charlie could end it himself. But the water might have damaged the gun, he might go through all that trouble for nothing.
The way Colby had gone through all his trouble for nothing.
He didn't care.
He didn't care.
Let the animals take him.
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Once they reached the general area, David's memory served them well. They found the trailhead without waiting for the courthouse to open, and could easily see two sets of footprints in the early morning sun.
Don was especially cheered when Megan noticed that one of the four feet was soon dragging. That had to be Charlie. By time he and Colby got here, he would have been through who knows what at the house in addition to being awake for almost 24 hours. He would be favoring his right leg, dragging that side a little. For the first time since Charlie's spinal cord injury, Don was happy about the lingering affects of the accident. Now at least he knew for sure that Charlie had made it this far, and he could easily follow him the rest of the way.
They scrambled up the trail, and Don reminded himself that Colby was a good agent. He convinced himself that Granger would save Charlie. Maybe everything would be all right after all.
He allowed himself to hope.
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He blinked.
It was unbelievable, but he had fallen asleep beside the stream, and now someone was shaking him.
It almost looked like Don, but Charlie knew that was impossible.
It had to be a dream, so he might as well close his eyes.
"Don't pass out on me, Charlie! Look at me! Focus! Tell me where you're hurt!"
Don's dream-voice sounded desperate, and Charlie shook his head a little. He didn't need this to turn into a nightmare.
Then again, his whole life had turned into a nightmare — so why not?
He kept his eyes closed until he felt the weight of Colby being lifted off him, then opened them quickly, angry.
"Leave him alone," he told dream-Don, who seemed to have been joined by dream-Megan. "I promised."
He continued to protest and started to struggle as he felt the weight completely leave him, replaced with searching hands.
"I think it's all Colby's blood." Charlie focused on Megan. Now dream-David was joining the party, jogging up behind her.
"There's another body in the clearing. Head shot …" Dream-David saw Colby, then. "Oh my God."
That worried Charlie.
That didn't sound like a dream.
He stopped struggling and searched for Don. His brother was crawling back toward his head from his feet.
"I can't find any wounds. He's soaking wet, but I think you're right, Megan. I think it's all Colby's." Don cautiously touched Charlie's face. "Buddy? You with me?"
Charlie shuddered, grabbed Don's arm. "You're real? You're all real?"
Don tried to smile, but he knew he was failing miserably. "Yeah, Charlie. It's over. We got you. Are you hit? Can you sit up?"
Charlie allowed Don and Megan to pull him up. Once sitting, he looked for Colby. "I promised I wouldn't leave him," he said, shivering.
Don started to pull off his jacket, but David was faster and thrust a sweatshirt in front of him. Don accepted gratefully. He started to unbutton Charlie's blood-soaked shirt, taking extreme care, even though he knew Charlie would never wear it again. He just wanted to be gentle. Working together, he and Megan got the shirt off. The t-shirt below was soaked as well. "Charlie, can you lift your arms for me? We need to get this shirt off."
"I can do it." Charlie was coming back to himself a little. He removed the t-shirt and held it in his hands. Don took it from him.
"Put this on, Buddy." He gave Charlie David's sweatshirt. Charlie struggled a little, and Megan reached out to help him.
Don looked up at David. "Have you tried your cell? Is there reception?"
David shook his head, looked again at Colby. "I'll go back to the clearing and try there."
Don looked at Charlie as his curly head popped through the neck of the sweatshirt. "Do you think you can walk? We should get you to the cabin."
The curls shook furiously. Charlie was never going back to that cabin again. Besides, he had promised. "I won't leave him."
Don allowed himself to really look at Colby for the first time.
This man had saved his brother's life — at least twice that he knew about — and had lost his own in the process. He settled more comfortably on the ground, and looked back at Charlie. "We won't leave him."
The three were silent for a while. Finally, Megan was the one to ask. "What happened? We found Addison."
Charlie just tilted his head a little toward Colby.
David jogged back up, squatted on the ground with the rest of them. "I can't believe it, but I actually got through to somebody. I guess they have satellites everywhere these days. Rescue and … and retrieval … is coming from Burney. It will probably be about four hours."
Don nodded without taking his eyes off Charlie. "Who's in the clearing, Charlie?"
Charlie dragged his eyes away from Colby. Already dark with grief and fear, they clouded more. "Addison's son. He was going to kill Colby. They were fighting. Addison made me watch."
Don nodded again. "Granger got him, first."
Charlie was shaking his head, and Don frowned, waited for him to say something more.
Charlie's voice dropped to a whisper, hard to hear over the sound of the nearby water. "I'm sorry. I had to. I'm sorry. God. I'm sorry."
Don's gut clenched. Was Charlie saying that he had killed the man in the clearing? Charlie?
He quickly tried to clear his face of anything but support, and moved a little closer to Charlie. "Never mind. We can talk about that later. You're okay." He felt Charlie stiffen when he draped an arm around his thin shoulders, but he didn't pull away. So Don sat like that, holding Charlie, silently watching Megan dig through her pack and find an extra pair of socks.
With the utmost care, she removed Charlie's soaked shoes and socks.
With the gentlest of hands, she massaged his cold feet.
With the occasional hot tear, she warmed them.
