Thanks for all the continued support on this story! I love reading all your reviews. Getting them is like opening presents on Christmas. Seriously.

Also, regarding Rosie's review to my last chapter, yes. You are right. Shore and Don were both down, but somewhere in there I think it was mentioned that Shore had started to get back up again, hence Don having to bring him down again.

Chapter 11

10:43 a.m.

This would be so much less difficult if it weren't for all the damn mud. They were in a mountainous area, which added a lot of uphill and downhill to their trek. David couldn't quite stop the laugh that came out of his mouth as he watched Colby's feet fall out from underneath him as the two of them slid more than walked down a hill.

"Damn," Colby muttered. He sat up, and David laughed harder at his former partner as he noticed Colby's entire backside was completely covered in mud. Colby turned to glare at him, but the look did not make David want to stop laughing.

"All right, ha ha," Colby muttered sarcastically. "It could just as easily have been you, you know."

David reached a hand down to help Colby up. "Yeah, but it wasn't me. It was you." He laughed again as he pulled Colby to his feet.

Colby glared at him again, half-heartedly. David could tell the other man was thinking precisely what he was—that it was nice to have some light-hearted, good natured teasing going around.

God, he missed L.A. sometimes. He missed bantering around with Colby all the time, having Nikki make fun of them, going out for beers with the gang after work—dinner at the Eppes house occasionally. It wasn't like he didn't get along with his new team in D.C., but they were all so, well, professional. All the time. They got along great at work but they rarely hung out outside the office.

This team here, well, there was something special about this team. Maybe it was just the dynamic and flow among this particular group of people, but no other team David had observed ever really came close. If David had to guess, he'd say it probably had something to do with how involved Don's family was in his life. Don's family had spilled over into Don's team, and therefore somehow Don's team had been naturally incorporated into Don's family.

It was true. Alan Eppes had sort of been the father David never had. And David would stop at nothing to protect Charlie as if the mathematician were his own younger brother.

He prayed to God they'd find Don alive, because there was no way in hell he'd be able to tell Alan and Charlie that their beloved son and brother was never coming home. Nor could he ever manage to tell Robin that she and Don would never be getting married.

"Here man, let me help you out here," David said to Colby with a chuckle. He started to brush Colby's back off, thankful that he was wearing gloves that were keeping his hands mud-free.

It didn't really work, but oh well. It kept David amused for a good few moments.

"Okay, we really should keep going," he said.

"Yeah," Colby agreed, and pointed off slightly to his left. "Let's go that way. I kind of have a good feeling about that way."

"All right then," David said. "Your feeling, your lead."

10:59 a.m.

For about an hour, he had run. Okay, run was kind of a generous word. He definitely had run for a good few minutes in his desperation to get well away from Shore and that cabin. After that, he'd slowed down to more of a brisk walk.

On the one hand, he'd wanted to keep his path as straight as possible, not twisting and turning anymore than necessary so he could keep track of where he was. On the other hand, he didn't want to leave too obvious of a trail. At some point, he realized he'd pretty much failed at keeping track of where he was, despite his greatest efforts.

So quite some time ago, Don had stopped moving for a few moments to get his bearings. He'd stood still, listening around him, relishing in the quiet that greeted him. He was alone.

Well, Shore may not have been there, but that didn't mean Don wasn't still in trouble. Shore could still find him. He hadn't quite made it to the level of successful escape yet.

Not to mention his arm had felt like it was about ready to fall off. Not a single point anywhere from fingertip to shoulder was free from pain. The pain hadn't fully hit him until he'd stopped, but once he had, it was excruciating.

His shoulder, surprisingly, hadn't bled to bad at first. The volume of blood had been fairly minimal. The bullet was still somewhere in him, he'd realized, because there was no exit would. It was lodged somewhere in him, possibly even staunching the blood flow somewhat. But his intense trek through the forest had aggravated the wound, and he'd started bleeding more heavily. Looking down at his arm, he noted with dismay how nearly the entire right side of his shirt was stained red. Don't think the tuxedo company will be wanting this rental back. Unfortunately, he didn't have anything he could use as a makeshift bandage.

He'd also taken stock of his wrist. It was pretty swollen and had some pretty spectacular bruising. Definitely broken.

Alone as he was out here in the woods, he eventually came to the conclusion that there wasn't much he could do for himself. All he could do was try to hold his arm as stationary as possible—easier said than done. Every movement he made with his body sent new white hot flares of agony all along his arm.

His little self-examination and subsequent failed self-treatment brainstorming session had taken nearly another hour. After that, the pain was beginning to reach all new levels, so Don decided to take a break. He'd sat down against a tree and forced himself to keep alert. The worst thing that he could do was to let himself drift off and not be paying attention if Shore came along.

So then he started wondering what his next course of action should be. He couldn't just sit against a tree forever, waiting for a rescue that would likely never come. He was lost somewhere out in the woods. He'd have to get himself out. He couldn't go the way he'd come, wherever that was, because Shore could be waiting for him somewhere.

He didn't even have the slightest clue where he was. He just knew he was in a forest in the mountains somewhere. But which mountains or which forest exactly, he couldn't even begin to guess. Given the time it had taken them to travel up here, he could only conclude that he was in southern California somewhere.

How would he get out of here? He could walk forever and still never find civilization. And all this was complicated by the fairly severe injury to his arm. He was still bleeding.

This was probably the end, Don eventually realized. He was going to bleed out and die here in the woods. Of course, he wasn't just going to give up, that wasn't his way. Eventually, he'd get up and get moving again, once he'd found the strength. He just needed to rest for a little while longer . . .

And now, at the present moment, he was trying so hard to gather the energy to get moving. He tried to pull himself to a standing position, but immediately lowered himself back down as a fire erupted in his shoulder. He landed somewhat ungracefully, setting off a wave of intense throbbing in his wrist.

He leaned his head against the tree. His face was starting to sweat. Waves of pain and nausea came over him, but he sat there waiting them out as best he could.

Maybe a few more minutes here wouldn't hurt.

Face it, he told himself. He probably wasn't going to move much farther anymore. Maybe it was time to just sit here and let what was coming to him come.

God, he just wished this would go away. That he could fall asleep now and wake up whole and unharmed in his bed. Maybe then it would actually be yesterday and he could get up, spend a few minutes shaking off this awful nightmare, and then prepare to marry the woman he loved.

Why did it have to take him so long to realize Robin was the one? Why had they moved so slowly? Why couldn't he have gotten his act together years ago? And hell, they'd even been engaged for over a year and a half. Maybe they should have had the wedding sooner. He was such an idiot. He should have made sure they'd done this sooner.

I'm so sorry, Robin. He was filled with despair. And while I'm at it, I'm sorry Dad and Charlie, too. He only hoped that maybe someone might chance across him soon, and that his family would eventually learn what happened to him.

A twig snapped off to his left, and he flinched. No. Shore was coming.

Instinct kicked in. All Don could think about was running. He made sure his right arm was pinned against his chest before using his left to carefully pull himself to his feet.

Whoa. His vision grayed, and he nearly passed out. Footsteps. No, he had to move. Now.

Gritting his teeth, Don stepped forward. He only made it about two steps before he felt himself falling forward. He barely managed to turn himself so as to protect his injured arm before he landed on the ground with a thud.

11:04 a.m.

The mud had mostly dried on Colby's back, and David was amused to see a piece of caked-up dirt falling off of him every few steps.

They'd almost searched their entire area, and there was almost nothing left to do but to turn back. It had occurred to David and Colby a little while ago that maybe Shore had another getaway vehicle somewhere up here. Maybe he'd taken Don and gotten out. Although, it would have been pretty dumb of him not to clean up the scene in the cabin first.

But then again, they weren't exactly dealing with a career criminal here. Shore hadn't even thought to wear gloves while in Don's SUV last night—which was a big part of the reason they were able to bust this case open at all.

Crunch.

David tripped on a branch, and it broke easily under his feet. He stumbled forward a little, but Colby put out a hand to stop him.

"Thanks," he muttered.

Colby grinned. "I figure one of us should be good to go later when we're done here without needing a shower first." He rubbed the back of his head, and flakes of dried mud fell from his hair.

David laughed. "I appreciate that, man."

A flash of movement caught the corner of David's eye. It was followed by a small sound, like something had fallen to the ground some distance from where they stood.

"You see that?" he immediately asked Colby.

In response, Colby was already headed the direction of the movement. They crossed a small patch of trees, David's heart pounding. He fervently hoped that they weren't running off after something stupid like a dead bird.

Oh, damn.

This was definitely no dead bird.

This was a man in a blood-splattered white dress shirt and black slacks and muddy dress shoes. This was Don Eppes laying face down in a pile of wet leaves. But he certainly looked like he could be dead.

TBC

Sorry this chapter's a little short, but I couldn't resist another cliffhanger. Please review!