Charlie faltered as Don stumbled against him. He eyed his brother and frowned at the sweat rolling down his pale face and the visible tremors coursing through his body. Don was getting too hot, and the younger man didn't know how much longer his body would hold up to the strain of their trek before he lost all of his strength and collapsed for good.
"Need another break?" Charlie asked.
"Can't," Don shook his head, sending his world into a spin.
Charlie gripped him tighter, halting their steps while Don tried to regain his equilibrium. He noticed the lines of pain that were etched on his brother's face as well as the dark circles beneath his dull, glassy eyes. Fever's back, Charlie thought as he placed the back of his free hand against Don's forehead for confirmation. Damn, burning up.
"We're taking a break," Charlie informed him, his tone brooking no argument. He shuffled them to a small patch of shade cast by a large, ancient oak tree and set Don down.
"Should keep going," Don weakly protested, his comments made even more absurd by the way he listed to one side, unable to hold himself upright.
"Rest, bro," Charlie said softly as he ran his hand through Don's short hair. "I can't carry you out of here if you collapse." He pulled out two more pain pills, frowning at how quickly the meager supply was diminishing. They'd better get out of here soon if Don was going to stand a chance of surviving. He carefully slid his hand beneath Don's head and lifted it up, placing the pills into his mouth and holding a canteen to the too warm lips. "Swallow," he quietly commanded.
Don did as he was told and Charlie lowered his head back to the ground and tenderly stroked Don's hair while he watched his brother's eyes drift close.
"Can't sleep," Don drowsily insisted. "If someone's after us-"
"We don't know that for sure," Charlie countered, although he still had a very bad feeling about their situation. "I do know for sure that I can't have you collapsing on me, so we rest. Besides, I've got your gun, remember?"
"Not paper targets, though," Don mumbled as he vainly struggled to open his eyes. "It's different."
"Not when my brother's life is in danger," Charlie growled. "I'll do whatever I have to in order to protect you."
Don sighed inwardly. That was exactly the situation he wanted to avoid. He honestly didn't think his little brother would be able to forgive himself if he had to take a life, even if it was to save his. Don hoped he was wrong, but prayed that they wouldn't have to find out. That was the last coherent thought he had as Charlie's soft ministrations lulled him to sleep.
--
Monroe had been following his prey's trail for several hours now, and suddenly slowed as he heard sounds that weren't native to the forest. Two low voices, one of them obviously tired and in pain. Crouching low, he stealthily crept closer to the sounds until he was almost on top of them. He peeked over a large tree root and saw what he was looking for. The two men were in the shade of a tree – the uninjured one sitting up and leaning against it with injured one lying on his good shoulder, curled up with his head on his companion's lap.
Sitting ducks, Monroe thought gleefully as he readied his rifle and took aim at the uninjured man's head. His heart rate slowed, his eyesight sharpened and everything his father ever taught him about hunting played through his mind in a ten-second blur. Just as his finger was tightening on the trigger, Ralph heard Gary's voice in his head.
"You can't just kill them where ever you please, Ralph. People know you're a bow hunter. Dead bodies with arrow wounds are like a calling card for you. You have to be more careful about where you kill and dispose of these people."
Gary's right, Ralph thought as he slid his finger away from the trigger. Even with his help it's going to be too hard and take way too long to drag two bodies back to our cabin. I need to make them go of their own free will. Although he was by no means a highly intelligent man, Monroe did know a thing or two about hunting and about how to trick your prey into coming to you.
Grinning ear to ear, he lowered his rifle, stood up and quietly approached the two men.
--
Don groaned and lifted his head from where it rested on Charlie's leg. "...Time is it?" he mumbled sleepily.
"Three-thirty," Charlie answered as he consulted his watch. "The heat is starting to lessen and we've got a few hours before sunset. We really need to get moving whenever you think you can."
"Let's go now."
"Are you sure? You just woke up."
"We have to keep moving," Don said as he laid his head back on his brother's leg. He tried to stifle a yawn, and failed miserably.
"We can rest a few more minutes," Charlie offered. "Five or ten shouldn't make that big of a difference. And anyway, I don't think you'll be able to stand right now, much less walk."
"Won't know until we try," Don said as he weakly pushed himself upright with his good arm.
"Dad's right," Charlie muttered. "You are as stubborn as a mule."
"Don't let him hear you say that," Don laughed softly. "His head'll get too big for his shoulders."
"Right," the younger man agreed. "You hold still for a minute and let me get everything packed up. Then I'll help you up and we can get going."
"Sounds like a plan," Don sighed as he leaned into the tree.
Charlie was so busy packing their stuff and Don's senses were so dulled by the amount of pain he was in that neither one of them heard the strange man approach. "Hello," he greeted.
Charlie whipped around in surprise at the same time Don awkwardly scrambled to his feet.
"Sorry," the stranger said as he held up his hands. "I didn't mean to startle you." He gestured at Don. "You okay, man?"
"We had an accident," Charlie said as his hand hovered near the gun on his hip.
"That's a pretty bad accident," he noted. "You two need some help?"
"Do you have a radio or a cell phone we could use?" Charlie inquired as he studied the sandy haired, camouflaged man. "He needs help soon, and our car is still a long way away."
Don was leaning heavily against the tree, his vision blurring and graying around the edges as he watched his brother speak with the stranger. Don wanted to let Charlie know that he was revealing far too much information about their situation but he didn't want to alert the stranger to his suspicions.
"Sorry, I don't," the man said. "I've got a radio back at my cabin, though. I use it to update the closest ranger station if I see anything unusual – forest fires, suspected poachers, that kind of stuff."
"Would you mind calling them to send help?" Charlie asked eagerly. "I'd be so grateful. My brother won't be able to make it much farther."
Don knew his little brother was so excited about the prospect of getting him medical attention that he'd forgotten about his gut feeling. For all they knew this was the guy who had shot him and that Charlie had suspected was following them. Deciding he needed to speak to Charlie in private, Don let out a loud moan of pain and toppled over, doing his best to land in a manner that didn't jar his shoulder too badly. As predicted, Charlie was by his side in seconds.
"Don?" he called out with worry. "What happened?"
"Hurts," he mumbled so faintly that Charlie had to lean close to hear him. As soon as Charlie's ear was right next to his mouth, Don grabbed Charlie's forearm with his good hand and gave him two, firm squeezes. "Listen," he whispered as low as he could and still have his brother hear him.
"It's okay," Charlie whispered as he squeezed back twice and nodded faintly. "I'm here."
"Good," Don breathed. "He might be able to help, but we don't know who he is." Don made sure the words were mumbled, and raised and lowered his tone of voice as if he was being assaulted by waves of agony – which wasn't too far from the truth. The fall had jarred his shoulder, re-igniting the pain, but Don hadn't known what else to do to get his brother's attention.
"I know," Charlie said in a singsong voice. "Just hang on – I'm doing everything I can." He cupped Don's cheek and rose to his feet, startled to find the strange man was standing right behind him.
"He okay?"
"He needs help," Charlie informed him. "Would you please go radio for help while I wait here with him?" The younger Eppes instantly regretted his words as a look of resignation came over the stranger's face.
"You know, don't you?" he demanded.
"Know what?" Charlie tried to feign innocence while inching his hand toward the gun on his belt.
"You know what," the sandy haired man snarled. "You people are always coming up here and causing problems. Why the hell can't you just stay away? You're going to get me in trouble one day."
Thinking he was speaking only of the accident, Charlie shook his head. "I know it was an accident. You didn't mean to shoot him, right?"
"Of course not," the man snapped. "I was trying to scare you away. But then this idiot..." he gestured wildly at Don, "... Had to step in my line of fire."
Scare us away? Charlie thought to himself as his fingers brushed the cool metal of Don's handgun. Away from what?
"But now you know about the lab, so I can't let you go."
Lab? Charlie puzzled. Think Charlie, think!
"We were just hiking," Charlie told him. His palm rested on the butt of the gun as he slid his fingers around the grip. "We didn't see anything."
"Of course you didn't see anything," the stranger snapped in frustration. "But you smelled it. No way you can be as close as you were and not smell it."
"Smell what?" Charlie asked without thinking.
"Don't play dumb with me!" the man roared as he rushed Charlie, knocking him to the ground.
Caught off guard, it was all Charlie could do to keep from having the wind knocked out of him as he slammed into the ground. He had just managed to get a good grip on the handle of the gun, and his heart sank as it flew out of his hand and landed several feet away. The stranger saw the weapon as it sailed through the air and furiously drew his own handgun, smashing it against Charlie's head.
"No!" Don cried in protest as he levered to his feet. He wanted so badly to rush the hunter, but his legs were barely able to keep him standing, much less propel him forward.
The stranger looked up from his stunned victim and quickly launched himself at Don, slamming him against a tree and holding the gun to his temple. "You started all of this," he snarled, laughing at Don's cry of pain. His eyes drifted to the arrow in the injured man's shoulder, and he smiled as the arrow twisted when he pinned Don to the tree. "Aww, poor guy," he mocked. "Does that hurt?"
"Stop." Both Don and his tormentor looked at Charlie as he weakly protested his brother's abuse. He clumsily rose to his feet, swaying unsteadily. "Leave him alone."
"You'll get your turn soon enough," the hunter growled. He threw Don to the ground and pointed his gun at him. "This is for causing me so many problems," he said as his finger started to tighten on the trigger.
"No!" Charlie cried, stumbling toward the stranger. A loud shot rang out and Charlie fell to his knees, certain his brother was dead. He lowered his face to the ground and felt hot tears track down his face. It was over. Don was dead and he was next. It doesn't matter, Charlie thought bitterly. I failed Don. I deserve what's coming.
"Hey," an unfamiliar voice called out cautiously. A gentle hand settled on his shoulder and Charlie looked up into the warm green eyes of another man dressed in hunting gear. "Are you okay?" Reading the confusion in the young man's eyes, he continued. "I saw what that man was doing. I didn't want to, but... Well, I took care of him."
He shot their tormentor? But there had only been one gunshot. Did that mean...
Charlie whipped his head around and saw the stranger lying on the ground, shot in the head. Just behind the dead man, Charlie saw his brother lying pale and still, save for the slight rise and fall of his chest. "Don!" he cried with relief as he rushed to his brother's side, dropping to his knees and stroking his cheek. "Are you okay? Wake up for me, bro."
"What happened?" Don asked groggily as he drug his eyes open. His gaze slid to the side and he recognized the dead man beside him. "Did you…?"
"No," Charlie said quickly. "Another hunter happened to come by at the right time." Charlie pointed to the quiet man behind him before staring back down at Don. "He saved our lives."
Don squinted at the other man and nodded. "Thanks..."
"Gary," he smiled. "My name is Gary."
--
Gary maintained a safe distance between himself and the two men. Don and Charlie – the younger man had introduced them. He knew he had Charlie eating out of his hand as soon as he mentioned having a cabin with a radio and a cleared out field specifically for emergency helicopter landings. He'd described his cabin in detail, emphasizing that it had once been a ranger station, and was still well equipped with supplies, radio and facilities for emergency rescues. He did add, rather reluctantly, that they would have to carry Don there so he could be evacuated by chopper as soon as possible, explaining that otherwise the rescuers would have to land, hike about a day to Don and then hike a little over a day to get him back to the chopper. Gary hadn't been surprised in the least when Charlie had eagerly agreed, asking that Gary allow him a few minutes to speak to Don, and then they would be ready to go.
Gary wondered exactly what the younger man's reaction would be when he found that he had just led his brother to his final resting place.
TBC
