Chapter 11

Charlie hit the ground with a thud, scrambling to his feet almost immediately, before his brain even registered what was happening. He jerked around to face their attacker, recognizing Mansour in the same instant. His heart stopped, and he froze for a moment in horror. Mansour was standing over his brother, screaming, holding a knife, bringing it down in a vicious strike.

Don' vision was dimming; he felt a ferocious pain in his leg and in the back of his head, and he couldn't get his limbs to obey him. Somehow as the knife came down, he managed to move, and twisted spasmodically, and as he descended into darkness, he felt a searing pain in his side.

Terror struck Charlie as he saw the knife come down on his brother, and without even realizing he was doing it, he launched himself at Mansour with a scream of his own. He connected with Mansour like a thing possessed, just as the knife slashed down again. He felt something bite into his upper arm, and fell forward onto Mansour, who staggered, but managed to stay upright.

Charlie felt a hand close around the sweatshirt at his neck, and off-balance, he fell, swinging around, still held by the throat. The fabric twisted tightly around his neck, cutting off his ability to breathe, and he felt himself being dragged. He clawed at his throat, flailing his legs desperately in an attempt to gain his footing, but Mansour was moving too fast.

David had just finished lacing his boot when he heard the scream, and he and Colby looked up the path in time to see Mansour's boot connect with Don's head. Mansour was screaming something; to Colby it sounded like, "He is marked, you can't take him!" but the almost unintelligible words were the last thing he was concerned about as he sprinted up the trail, David close behind. He saw the knife come down, and Charlie launching himself at Mansour as if he was mad himself, and then saw Mansour grab him by the neck, and with frightening speed, take off down the hill, dragging Charlie behind as if he weighed no more than a rag doll. At the same time, he saw Megan and Edgerton sprinting around the upper end of the trail.

As they converged on Don's body, Edgerton shouted orders – Megan ran toward Don, and the rest of them veered down the hill after Mansour and Charlie. Mansour had reached the bottom and had a good start on them, but the ground had leveled out, and his progress slowed slightly. He shifted his grip on Charlie, pulling him up behind him almost like a sack on his back, and dodged through the trees, making it nearly impossible for the agents to get off a shot. They reached the level area, and without the hill to help them; their progress also slowed. Even so, they were gradually gaining ground, and Edgerton saw Mansour flinging looks of mingled panic and rage over his shoulder.

Charlie's struggle to alleviate the pressure on his neck was failing, and he could feel himself losing consciousness. He felt himself being lifted higher, onto Mansour's back, and the new position cut off his airway completely; his hands fell limply from his neck as his world spun and darkened.

Edgerton, trying to slow them down, stopped and took two shots, neither of them right at Mansour, but close enough that Mansour could hear the bullets hitting the trees near him. Colby and David screamed at Mansour to stop, and hearing the screaming and the bullets, he flung a look back. Realizing that they were closing on him, he paused for a moment, fear and desire warring on his face. With a howl of anger, he finally relinquished his grip on Charlie, disappearing into a dense section of smaller pines with swoosh of branches, as Charlie tumbled lifelessly to the ground. Edgerton went in after him without hesitation, and Colby and David dropped to the ground beside Charlie.

Charlie's face was dark from lack of oxygen; his eyes rolled back in his head, and they both realized immediately that he didn't appear to be breathing. Colby acted, his training kicking in like instinct, and delivered a blow to Charlie's chest, and prepared to give CPR. Before he could begin, Charlie gasped, a long ugly ragged breath, and began breathing, his eyes fluttering open, but remaining unfocused. Their heads jerked up briefly as they heard a shot; then they looked back down at Charlie.

"Breathe, Charlie," Colby instructed, the command coming out as more of a plea. They watched anxiously for a moment, standing guard with service weapons ready, as Charlie's chest heaved. His breathing began to slow and become more normal, but he still appeared to be half conscious, and he groaned softly, his eyes drooping shut.

"Let's get him up the hill," said David quietly, and Colby nodded. They holstered their weapons, and grabbed Charlie by the arms and legs, carrying his limp form up the hill toward the trail. They had gotten about halfway up when they heard footsteps running through the pines. David dropped Charlie's feet and pulled his weapon, only to bring it down as Edgerton appeared through the branches. "Get him?" asked David, his eyes dark.

Edgerton looked grim. "No, I took the wrong tack through the thicket, and he was out the far side before I could figure out which direction he went. I got a glimpse of him and took a shot, but he was too far off, at least for a good shot with a revolver." He looked down at Charlie, who was starting to open his eyes, and move in Colby's arms. Colby had squatted, and was still holding him under the shoulders, and he shifted his grip, trying to keep Charlie still.

Charlie's senses were slowing sharpening, and with awareness, panic was setting in. He twisted, trying break free of Colby's grip, and gasped, "Don?" He looked up groggily, fear in his face. "Where's Don?"

Colby shifted his grip again, and noted with shock that his left hand was covered with blood. He looked down, realizing that it was coming from Charlie's left arm, near the shoulder.

"Just hold on, Charlie, Don's right up there, okay? We'll take you up there. Just relax."

Charlie was beginning to tremble as they carried him the rest of the way up the hill, and laid him next to Don. Megan was bending over Don's inert form anxiously, and she looked up at them, clearly shaken. "He's out cold," she said. "He's breathing okay, but I can't wake him. He's got a nasty slash over his rib cage, but I don't think it's deep." As she was talking she was lifting Don's head and gently putting a rolled shirt underneath it. "I think he might have hit his head on a rock when he went down; he's got a lump on the back of it."

Charlie started to struggle as soon as he saw his brother, trying to sit up, still shaking. David gently held him down. "Charlie, just lie down, Don' s going to be okay." That only served to make Charlie more agitated, and he pushed against David, starting to thrash.

He managed to lean sideways toward his brother, still pushing against David. "Don?" He was gasping and shaking, and his eyes were becoming unfocused, although he was still staring in the direction of his brother's face.

Colby and Megan's eyes met in concern. "He's getting shocky," she said quietly, and Colby pulled off his jacket and laid it over him.

"Charlie, Don would want you to lie still," he said firmly, looking into Charlie's face. "Just rest." Charlie looked at him uncertainly; then laid back slowly, his eyes still on Don's face, his body still wracked by tremors. He reached out a trembling hand and laid it on Don's arm, but he stayed put, his eyes glued to his brother. Colby ran a hand through his hair, and looked at Megan and David in disbelief. "Jesus," he said softly, and David shook his head, his eyes mirroring the shock of the others.

Megan peeled back Don's shirt, revealing a gash over his left rib cage. "Colby, you take a look at this. David, can you throw me the first aid kit?" Charlie fought down panic as he saw the wound and started to rise again, but David was back at his side.

David tossed them the aid kit, and laid his hand on Charlie's uninjured shoulder firmly, holding him down, and spoke softly. "Charlie, just chill man; it's okay; they're taking care of him."

Colby gently probed the wound, which was bleeding profusely, and nodded. "Yeah, it's a graze, but it's a nasty one. We need to try to tape it together if we can. Grab those butterfly bandages." Megan pulled out the bandages, and they patched the wound, trying to pull the edges together as best they could.

Edgerton was standing a few feet away, speaking into the radio, and Colby and David glanced up hopefully as a transmission came crackling back. "We managed to raise them right before this happened," said Megan. "They know we're here, but we're still a couple hours from where they are." They listened as Edgerton explained the situation to his contact, and waited for him to speak as he signed off.

Edgerton stayed put, and motioned with a jerk of his head. "Granger and Sinclair, over here."

Colby glanced at Charlie as he rose, and looked at Megan. "Take a look at Charlie's shoulder, will you?" She nodded, glancing at Don. He looked so pale, so lifeless, that she compulsively checked his pulse again, and put a hand on his chest to check his breathing. His pulse was strong, and his breathing steady, she noted with relief, and looked up to see Charlie watching her anxiously, his hand still laid over his brother's arm protectively.

"He's doing okay, Charlie," she said, trying to reassure him. Charlie looked on the edge of collapse, both physically and emotionally. His eyes stayed riveted on Don, and Megan speculated that his concern for his brother might be the only thing that was holding him together at the moment.

She stepped over to him and kneeled, gently pulling his sweatshirt away from his shoulder. His neck was marked from the collar of the sweatshirt, and she peered down inside the sleeve, noting the gash in the outside of his upper arm. It was a nasty cut, and was bleeding freely, but at least it was not gushing. She reached over into her pack and pulled out one of her own T-shirts, listening to Edgerton speak as she bound Charlie's upper arm.

"Did you see what happened?" he was asking Colby and David quietly.

"We were a ways back on the trail," said David. "I had stopped to get a rock out of my boot. We heard a scream, and saw Mansour coming off this bluff. Don got a boot in the head and went down. Mansour had a knife; he stabbed Don once, but Charlie jumped him before he could do it again."

Edgerton looked skeptical. "Charlie jumped him?"

"Yeah, tackled him around the waist," said Colby. "He threw him off balance. Charlie must have gotten the knife in his shoulder when he did it. Mansour grabbed him around the neck by his shirt and took off down the hill. He was screaming something -," he looked at David for confirmation. "It sounded like, 'He's been marked,' or something like that." Megan rose, and stepped over to the group.

David nodded. "I heard, 'He is marked, you can't take him.'" He glanced at Charlie. "Meaning Charlie, I guess."

Megan nodded, speaking quietly, so that Charlie couldn't overhear. "I'm thinking he meant the marking, the slashes, on the victim's chest. He apparently feels an overwhelming compulsion to finish the job once he starts it."

Colby shook his head. "Now there's an understatement. This guy is a grade-A lunatic. I can't believe he had the guts to even try that."

"Guts have nothing to do with it," said Megan. "He's driven by something he can't control. We can't rule out the possibility that he may try it again."

Edgerton listened, his eyes narrowed, and he glanced at the brothers. "We need to get them out of here. Peters and some of his men will meet us on the trail, but we need to try to mock up some stretchers and try to get as far as we can. We need some pole-sized branches. Reeves, I want you on guard. The rest of us will gather branches. No one goes out of sight of the others, understood?"

They nodded and spread out, but made sure to maintain visual contact with each other and with Megan. Working quickly and quietly, they scoured the hillside for sturdy long branches, senses sharpened, eyes searching the surrounding forest, each of them aware of the horror that lurked in the trees.

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