Chapter 15

Charlie watched as the orderly helped Don into the wheelchair. Don had winced, but recovered quickly, smiling and exchanging a joke with the orderly as he lowered himself into the seat. As a child, Charlie had idolized his older brother, and he felt that awe again as he watched him. Don had been attacked by that madman too, he told himself, and here he was, strong, confident, smiling, less than a day after the ordeal.

'How does he do that?' wondered Charlie, feeling even more inadequate. He tried to fight back the old familiar feeling in his gut, the feeling that he didn't quite get it in the ways that mattered most, the feeling that he would never measure up to his older brother when it came to functioning in the real world, and the fear that came with it – the fear of failure, of disappointing the person that meant the most to him.

His eyes followed them as the orderly paused with Don out in the hall, and he listened absently to his father as he rummaged through the duffel bag, watching as his brother talked to Edgerton. They both looked his direction as they spoke, and he realized that they must be talking about him.

His attention was captured by a flying container of deodorant that flipped out of his father's hand and into his lap. He definitely needed a shower, but his father was suggesting that he take one at home. Home – he suddenly couldn't wait to get there. He was struck by an intense desire to hide, to hibernate, to get away from the case and Amita and anything else remotely associated with the outside world. Alan straightened, still speaking, and Charlie nodded agreement again to whatever he was saying, barely noticing as his father turned and headed toward the door. Charlie closed his eyes, just sitting for a moment, and an image of his garage and his chalkboards rose, tantalizing, inviting, in his mind. If he concentrated, he could almost smell the chalk.

At Edgerton's voice he jumped, surprised, his eyes flying open. He hadn't heard Ian come into the room.

"I'm sorry," said Edgerton, "I didn't mean to startle you."

"No, it's okay," said Charlie. "I just didn't hear you."

Edgerton pulled up a chair and sat, leaning forward. "I was just talking to Don. I know your Dad won't be too keen on this, but Don and I both agree that we still need you on this case." Charlie's heart flipped, and he scratched the back of his head, trying hard to hide his expression as confusion and panic swirled up suddenly, making his heart pound.

Edgerton continued smoothly. "Don figured you would be willing to help out, in fact, he said he was sure you would want to finish this, if you could talk your Dad into it." He paused expectantly.

Charlie was taken aback. Don expected him to continue to work on the case? Of course he did, he told himself; Don never gave up on a case, and he expected that dedication out of everyone else. It was just that – 'That what?' he asked himself miserably. That he was afraid, that, let's face it, he was a wreck right now. How would Don understand that? Weakness wasn't part of his nature. His heart sinking, Charlie swallowed and stammered, "Yeah, sure."

Edgerton smiled. "I wouldn't have thought any less of you, either. Don said he would work on explaining to your Dad while they went downstairs, and suggested that it would be easier if you just went ahead, got changed and went with me before they came back."

"Uh," Charlie spoke haltingly, "What did you need me to do?" 'Maybe this wouldn't take too long,' he thought; 'an afternoon of work at the war room…'

"Well, you could finish your analysis on the sites," said Ian slowly. "But I'm not sure that will get us what we need quickly enough. I've been looking at the map, trying to determine where Mansour took you, and it looks like it might have been somewhere just a few hours into the park. What I really need you to do is to go back there with me, and see if we can retrace your steps. We'd cut through the woods instead of taking the trail around – it makes it much quicker. It would be just a day trip, in and out. We'd be back by this evening."

Charlie stared back in shock, terror writhing inside of him. He couldn't go back there. He couldn't – Don agreed to this? He couldn't do it. He swallowed hard. "I, I don't think – I can-,"

Edgerton smiled knowingly. "I understand. I told Don I thought that would be your reaction. You've been through a lot. He disagreed with me – he thought you were up for it." He rose. "I'll let him know." He turned and headed toward the doorway, and was halfway there before he heard Charlie's voice.

"Wait." Edgerton turned at the sound, so strangled it was almost unintelligible, and faced Charlie, silently.

'Weak,' thought Charlie, disgusted with himself at his fear. 'I'm weak.' He thought of Don earlier, smiling and joking with the orderly. 'That's normal,' thought Charlie, 'that's how I should be taking this, not overreacting like some scared child -,' He looked at Edgerton, his heart thumping painfully, and he struggled to keep his voice steady.

"I – okay." The words seemed like they were coming from someone else. The thought of going back into the forest was terrifying, but the idea of disappointing his brother was worse. It would be a short trip, Ian had said, and his brother would never ask him to do it if he thought it wasn't safe. In spite of the rationalizations he was making to himself, he had a hard time getting the words out. "I'll go."

Edgerton grinned wryly. "Proving me wrong, are you? I should have known you Eppes guys were made out of the same stuff." He nodded. "Okay. I'll wait for you in the hall."

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Don eased back into his bed, half-listening to his father, as the orderly pulled the wheelchair away. He felt a wave of dizziness as he moved; he took a deep breath, and felt it slowly recede. Megan, Colby and David had followed them up, and were waiting at the door for the orderly and the wheelchair to clear the room.

"Now, you heard the doctor," Alan lectured. "I know it feels like the cast gives you support, but keep your weight off that leg. You need to use your crutches. And if you need to get up, for God's sakes call someone to help you. I'm not going to be here to remind you."

'Thank God,' thought Don, but he smiled at his father. "I heard."

His team drifted into the room, and Colby looked around. "Where'd Charlie go?"

"Must be in the bathroom, getting changed," said Alan.

The bathroom door was open, and David took a step back toward it and glanced in. "Not in here."

Alan turned, looking for the duffel, and spied a piece of paper on Charlie's bed. He picked it up, scowling as he read, and his head jerked up, angry eyes directed at Don. "What is this?"

Don looked at him with a frown of confusion. "What is what?" Alan thrust the paper at him, and he took in his brother's familiar scrawl, his frown deepening as he read aloud. "Dad, Went with Ian. Will be back tonight. Don will explain. Charlie." He looked up sharply at his team, who stared back with looks of confusion and consternation. "Do you guys know anything about this?"

They shook their heads, and Don looked back down at the paper again, his expression darkening.

"You mean you don't?" Alan snapped.

"No, I don't. I can't believe Ian did that," growled Don through clenched teeth. "He knew Charlie was supposed to be going home. After everything he went through, how could Ian even ask him – and where the hell did they go?" Alan's angry expression was being replaced by concern, and he looked anxiously back and forth between them.

"My guess would be back to the hotel," said David.

"He might have asked him to finish his analysis on the sites," added Megan, frowning. She glanced at Colby, and he raised his eyebrows and shrugged.

Don scowled, and sighed in exasperation. "Dad, do you have my cell phone?"

Alan pulled a bag from the corner, and handed him the phone. "You know you aren't supposed to use those in here."

"Screw it," snapped Don as he dialed. His jaw tightened as he listened to repeated rings, and he spoke into the phone with barely contained anger after the message beep. "Ian, this is Don. Please call me back as soon as possible. We need to talk about Charlie." He flipped the phone shut with a snap.

He looked up at his team. "Do me a favor. Head up to the hotel and one of you get Charlie and bring him back here. If Ian gives either you or him a hard time, tell him he needs to talk to me."

As they left the room, Don ran a hand over his head. It was throbbing, and the pain and his unease with the situation made frustration well up inside him. "Why would Charlie even go with him? He knew he was going home. Why wouldn't he just say no?"

Alan gave him a wry look. "For the same reason he won't say no to you." Don shook his head impatiently, as if in disagreement, but he said nothing, staring at his cast with a scowl. Neither of them had any idea how close Alan had come to the truth.

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Mansour paced back and forth, frantic. It was all wrong. He growled at the terrified deputy tied to the tree, and paced again, wringing his hands, his head jerking spastically. He could not proceed without the marked one's body. It had to be finished before he could mark the next one. What remained of his rational mind told him that the marked one was gone – he had left in the truck with the flashing lights. His madness overrode that thought. He would search for him again, just as he had since he had gone. He would find him and bring him back. There was no other option. It must be finished.

He leered at the deputy, the sickness twisting, writhing in his brain; and eyes bright with cunning and hatred, he turned, taking off at jog for the opening to the canyon, and the park entrance beyond.

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Edgerton pulled into the hotel parking lot. "I'll just be a minute," said Ian, glancing at Charlie. "I need to grab my pack." He jumped out of the truck. Peters was standing in the lot, talking to a couple of his deputies, and Charlie watched Edgerton stop and speak to them, and saw them glance his way.

The closer they had gotten to the park, the harder Charlie's heart pounded. He could feel the familiar beginnings of a panic attack, and he tried hard to control his breathing without being obvious. He was becoming less sure that this was a good idea. It wasn't that he didn't trust Ian, he reflected. It was Mansour and his horrifying unpredictability, his ability to appear and disappear at will, to do what he wanted without impunity; that terrified Charlie. Ian was now headed back to the truck, and Charlie swallowed his rising anxiety with an effort.

Twenty minutes later, they were at the trailhead. Charlie stared the forest in front of him as Ian lifted his pack out, almost incapacitated by fear, his legs shaking, his mind nearly frozen. He turned to face Ian, shame and misery on his face. "I – I don't know if I can do this," he began.

Edgerton's eyes narrowed and he took Charlie's arm, but his voice and his grip were gentle. "Charlie, you need to relax. Remember the horse? When you fall off, you need to get right back on again. You remember our ride?" Charlie nodded, his eyes downcast.

Ian continued, softly insistent. "You didn't want to go, but it came out fine. You need to trust me." He bent down so that he could look into Charlie's eyes. "I know you wouldn't want to disappoint your brother, and there's no need to. You handled the horse. You can do this."

Charlie lifted his head and looked back at him, and Ian held his eyes in an almost hypnotic gaze. "Are you with me, Charlie?"

Charlie broke the look with an effort, and said quietly, "Yes."

"Good." Ian shouldered his pack and stepped toward the trail, slinging his rifle over his arm.

Charlie looked around at the parking area, half expecting Peters or his men to pull in behind them. "Isn't anyone else coming with us?"

Ian turned and smiled. "Nope. It's just you and me, professor."

He swung back around and headed off onto the trail. Charlie's heart dropped, and he stood for a moment in indecision. In spite of himself, he grabbed the door handle of the truck in a sudden panic, feeling ashamed as he did so. Locked. As Edgerton disappeared into the trees, he abruptly realized he had no choice in the matter. The sudden quiet sent a surge of fear through him, and he hurried after Ian.

--------------------------End Chapter 15-----------------------------------------------------