Sticks & Stones Read online

  Zane froze in place, fists clenched, a scowl on his face that he knew just highlighted the split lip and the quickly darkening bruises along his cheekbone that weren’t hidden by his week’s worth of beard.

  “Son of a bitch,” Swizzlestick wheezed from where he sat in the dirt, holding the gash on his head. “Shoot the bastard.” Earflaps whimpered in agreement as he rolled on the ground and bled profusely.

  Zane jerked his chin as Redjacket narrowed his eyes at Ty, obviously seriously contemplating doing it. Swizzlestick got to his feet, grabbed his shotgun noisily, and grunted at him in warning. Zane stepped back with his hands up, staring at Redjacket and Ty tensely.

  Ty hadn’t moved. He still stood with his hands in the air and his chin slightly raised, looking Redjacket in the eye as the man held the gun under his chin. He seemed to be holding his breath, waiting. For once, it looked like Ty didn’t have any more tricks up his sleeve. Or rocks. He was just waiting to be shot, and the realization scared Zane more than he’d ever thought it would.

  Finally, Redjacket moved, reaching out to push Ty’s jacket off his shoulders warily. He yanked at Ty’s shirt, ripping the buttons out of it, then pushed the sleeves off his shoulders so the shirt slid back as Ty stood still, watching him blankly. Zane held his breath, waiting for Ty to do something. Anything. But Ty didn’t move as Redjacket patted him down to make sure he had no other hidden weapons or sticks or God knew what else Ty might have picked up out there.

  He tossed away a few more rocks Ty had gathered, pulled a lighter out of his pocket and tossed it away, and removed Ty’s hunting knife. He stopped when he pushed up one of the short sleeves of Ty’s T-shirt. He stared at Ty’s arm for a moment and then looked up at Ty warily. Zane belatedly realized that the man must have caught sight of Ty’s tattoo.

  “Marine, are you?” Redjacket muttered to Ty as he finally backed away from him, far enough that Ty couldn’t reach the weapon as he held it on him. He gestured for Swizzlestick to help Earflaps up. “Think you’re a smart guy, huh, Marine?” he said to Ty. “Think one broke face is gonna save you?”

  “Made me feel better,” Ty told him with a small smile.

  Redjacket gave him a jerky nod. “On your knees,” he ordered angrily. He turned his head to look at Zane. “You too,” he snarled.

  Next to Earl and Deuce now, Zane slowly went down in a crouch before dropping to his knees and settling his hands behind his head. Earflaps grabbed up his shotgun and practically shoved it in his face.

  “Just one twitch, fella,” he growled. “Gimme one little twitch, and I’ll blow you to kingdom come.”

  Zane wisely chose not to move at all, hiding his emotions from long practice, and from the corner of his eye, he could see Ty in the exact same position. Zane wondered what Earl and Deuce must think of them, seemingly unaffected by such things.

  Redjacket stood in the middle of them all, looking around at them and obviously realizing that it would be hard to keep them all under control. He glanced between Zane and Ty, common sense telling him that they would be the most dangerous.

  “You watch him,” he told Swizzlestick as he pointed at Zane. He handed the thin man Ty’s gun, which Swizzlestick shoved into his belt. “And those two.” He jerked his chin toward Deuce and Earl. Then he pointed at Earflaps. “You bring the Marine,” he said as he pointed at Ty.

  Earflaps nodded and took Ty by the elbow, yanking him off the ground and pushing him far enough away to hold the gun on him safely. It was disturbing that they seemed to know to keep out of reach with the guns. They had enough common sense and knowledge to make them scary. They stalked off with Ty in tow as Zane went cold.

  As soon as the shotgun was pointed at Ty’s back, Zane lurched. His body coiled as he saw them pushing Ty away from the clearing, but Swizzlestick was right over him and smashed the shotgun’s hilt down onto his right shoulder. Zane crumpled with an odd, choked sound of pain, curling into himself, hugging his arm close as the pain in his head was eclipsed.

  Swizzlestick laughed, obviously happy with seeing Zane curled up on the ground. “Aww, now see, I got the easy job,” Swizzlestick said as he moved to stand next to Deuce, holding the gun on them as he positioned himself to where he could see his prisoners and still watch where his buddies were taking Ty.

  Zane felt sick and incredibly helpless as he huddled there under watchful eyes, unable to move as his face and shoulder both screamed at him. When he heard the first blow land somewhere behind him, he turned his face into the soft dirt and closed his eyes. They could beat Ty into a pulp back there, and there was nothing he could do. And he knew Ty wouldn’t fight back because of the danger to his partner, brother, and father.

  It seemed like a lifetime before the hits and grunts stopped behind him, and Zane took a breath to try to settle his stomach. As far as he could tell, Ty hadn’t made a sound. Far too long went by before they dragged Ty back into the clearing and left him on the ground, across the clearing from Zane and the others. Zane tried in vain to see his partner from where he lay, but the gentle curve of the ground blocked his view. To his immense relief, he heard Ty cough and the scuffle of his hands in the dirt as he tried to push himself up.

  “Behave yourself,” Redjacket warned as he walked back in front of them all, rubbing his fist like it was sore.

  “I’ve met Iraqi women who hit harder than you,” Ty told him, his voice rough and hoarse. But he had to cough and gasp as he said it. Zane closed his eyes and smiled slightly.

  “Want some more, then, smartass?” Earflaps threatened.

  “Give it a rest. I need to think on what we’re doing next,” Redjacket said crossly.

  “I say we just kill ’em,” Swizzlestick offered.

  “We don’t want every cop in the state crawling over this mountain looking for them,” Redjacket responded.

  “So what’re you thinkin’? We don’t kill ’em; they tell the Feds we’re here. We kill ’em; the Feds come here when they don’t check in. What’s the difference? At least if they’re dead, they ain’t talkin’,” Earflaps said as he stood over Deuce with his shotgun.

  Zane cast his eyes around. No matter how much he pushed his eyes to one side, he still couldn’t see Ty without raising his head. He could hear him, though, still breathing heavily from the punches to the gut they’d dealt him, no matter how hard he tried to play them off as if he wasn’t hurt. Deuce was kneeling next to Earl in the dirt; tied up and considered less of a threat; the men were paying them little attention. Zane figured they were underestimating both of them. Earl was no fragile old man, and Deuce would put up a damn good fight if he had to—he was a Grady, after all. And if they were anything like Ty, those ropes wouldn’t stop them when it got right down to it. They all seemed to be built of the same stone as these mountains.

  Zane gave vent to some of his frustration and spat blood from where he’d bitten the inside of his cheek onto the dirt at the hunter’s feet, using the opportunity to push himself up some. He saw Earflaps sniff and re-grip the shotgun in his hands. He still had Ty’s gun in his belt, and Zane eyed it as he lay there.

  “Well,” Redjacket said thoughtfully after a long time of thinking it over. “I’m thinkin’ they should just… disappear-like. Then they can’t tell nobody nothing,” he decided with a jerk of his head to the east.

  Zane swallowed hard. Though it was four on three, these treasure-hunting bastards were armed with both their own shotguns and now Ty’s and Zane’s weapons as well. He and Ty were both hurt, although not incapable of putting up a fight. Zane and the others might have possessed the more experienced and capable fighting force, but they were seriously outgunned. You didn’t bring fists to a gunfight.

  “We could dump ’em down that old well we found yonder,” Swizzlestick suggested as he held his shotgun on his hip.

  “So now, Mister,” Redjacket said, moving to stand in front of Ty as he spoke. Zane shifted slightly on his side, just enough to finally be able to see Ty where he lay in the dirt. “Let’s t
alk,” Redjacket said to Ty as he knelt near him. “How about you just behave yourself while you and hero over there take a little walk with us. No more tricks, and we’ll leave those two alone.” He waved his hand at Earl and Deuce.

  Ty glared at the man, holding his ribs as he pushed himself up from the dirt and rocked a little. “You plan to let them go?” he asked finally in a rough voice. “They’ll wander around lost for a few days, won’t be able to lead anybody back to you.”

  Zane saw Earl frown and could tell he was barely resisting the urge to protest. Instead, he watched Redjacket, the de facto leader of this little trio of assholes.

  Redjacket looked thoughtful as he considered Ty’s request. “Could be, but they’d still know y’all were up here,” he pointed out finally, nodding his head toward Zane. “They’d still send out search parties for you two,” he said as he waved the badge he’d taken from Ty’s pocket earlier.

  Ty grunted in obvious annoyance. “Then how are you going to leave them alone?” he countered, possibly unable to help himself, considering the stress in his voice. “Lots of people know we’re out here already.”

  Redjacket narrowed his eyes, looking at Ty as if he thought there might be some sort of mind-trick going on.

  “If you want your prisoners to behave until you kill them, you don’t tell them you’re going to kill them!” Ty informed Redjacket irritably. He was very nearly shouting.

  Zane narrowed his eyes, attempting to evaluate his partner as calmly as possible as his entire body trembled with adrenaline and fear. Ty was still slumped on his knees in the dirt and dried leaves of the little clearing, wincing and holding his side. Zane wondered if he had a broken rib or two or if he was just playing it up to look weaker. Hurt or not, he was definitely losing his grip on his sanity. Or doing a really good job of pretending he was. Ty continued to glare up at the man kneeling near him, his eyes flashing and his jaw clenching angrily.

  “We won’t be killin’ you if we dump you in the well, now will we?” Redjacket argued.

  “Holes don’t kill people. People kill people,” Ty pointed out mockingly.

  Zane actually chuckled under his breath as he pushed himself halfway up. It was such a ridiculous conversation. Most captives didn’t give their captors advice on how to go about doing things or argue with them over how to dispose of bodies, and this Redjacket character was growing more and more wary, beginning to look at Ty as if he might just be insane. Crazy captives were hard to deal with. And Zane quite honestly wondered if the man wasn’t right.

  “I’m thinkin’ real hard on killin’ this one anyway,” Earflaps muttered as he kneed Zane in the back, nearly knocking him over again. Zane had to catch himself, palms down in the dirt, and he gave Earflaps an ugly look over his shoulder.

  “Ain’t nobody killing anybody yet,” Redjacket declared as he held up his hands to calm them. He pulled off his glasses and rubbed at his eyes. “We don’t wanna have to drag a body anywhere. Best thing to do is march ’em up there, and do it there.”

  Ty slammed both hands onto the ground suddenly, rustling the dried leaves and making an unsatisfactory thud. “I am sick and fucking tired of being threatened by amateurs!” he shouted in utter frustration. He pushed himself up to stand suddenly, turning on Swizzlestick and the shotgun, and he pointed a finger at the cruel-looking man. “If you’re gonna shoot me, shoot me, but I’ll be goddamned if you’re gonna throw me in a hole and leave me!”

  Zane’s gaze wrenched up from the ground just as Earl and Deuce began begging Ty to calm down.

  No one seemed to know what to do now that Ty was literally telling them to shoot him. Swizzlestick stood in front of Ty, gripping his shotgun uncertainly and glancing at Redjacket for guidance. As Ty threw his hissy fit, Redjacket moved closer to sort it out, his glasses in one hand and his gun in the other. Swizzlestick tossed his plastic stick away with a curse and gripped his shotgun tighter to point it at Ty threateningly, shouting for him to shut up and sit back down.

  They circled around Ty, leaving Earflaps a good fifteen to twenty yards on the other side of the clearing. Alone with Zane.

  Whether Ty did it on purpose was hard to tell, but it was Zane’s opinion that he was just losing his temper and didn’t care if they shot him, rather than purposely trying to divert their attention away from the rest of them. Ty did have a short fuse upon occasion, and Zane figured he had reason today. It was even possible that he was halfway lost in a flashback to his Recon days. If anything was going to cause one, this would. Ty turned to Redjacket as they circled him, both of them pointing their guns at him and shouting for him to get back on his knees. He ignored the orders and continued bitching about their tactics. “You don’t tell your prisoners you’re gonna kill them!” he shouted at Redjacket in annoyance as he took a step toward him.

  It reminded Zane suddenly of the lessons Ty had been telling the rookie FBI candidates back at Hogan’s Alley. Never overestimate the mental stability of your opponent.

  Swizzlestick stepped forward and jabbed his shotgun into Ty’s belly.

  Zane’s shoulders twitched, cold fear flooding him. He hoped to hell Ty knew what he was doing. There was no way he or Earl or Deuce could get to him to help when Ty already had a shotgun point blank in his middle.

  Ty took another step, causing the barrel of the gun to dig against his abs and pushing Swizzletsick back a step. The man’s trembling finger tightened slightly on the trigger.

  “You give them hope!” Ty yelled at the man. “It keeps them docile and cooperative so they don’t resort to desperate measures when you’re not paying attention!” he said as he grabbed the barrel of the gun, shoved it away from his body, and struck out at the man with a left hook. The gun went off just as Ty let it go, the shot just barely missing Redjacket.

  “Hey!” Redjacket yelled, raising his gun. Ty kicked back at him, hitting him square in the chest with his heavy hiking boot and sending him stumbling backwards before rounding on Swizzlestick again.

  Earl and Deuce began to truly struggle with their restraints as all hell broke loose around them. Suddenly everyone was moving.

  Zane was already twisting to slam his arm across the back of Earflaps’ knees before giving him a heavy push, toppling the man over. He landed on his ass with a loud grunt, but he held onto his shotgun. Zane lunged at him, hand out to grab at Ty’s gun, but Earflaps swung the shotgun, catching Zane in the face again, and the pain shattered through him. He was dazed for a moment, long enough for Earflaps to jab him in the kidney with the gun barrel before he shook the haze off and kicked at him. He could hear the cursing and yelling and scuffling going on behind him as Ty dealt with two men at once, but Zane couldn’t get to them yet—he had to deal with this asshole first. Lurching to his feet, Zane grappled with Earflaps and slapped at his belt to dislodge the gun, getting a knee in the gut for his efforts.

  “That there’s part of the payback,” Earflaps hissed as Zane collapsed to one side with a harsh gasp, trying to get air in.

  Zane blinked hard, the others coming into focus for the seconds it took him to roll out of Earflaps’s reach and get to his feet. Swizzlestick was on his knees, coughing blood and dazed. Ty had Redjacket down, holding him by the neck in a sleeper hold until he lost consciousness. Deuce and Earl were still tied, though Earl seemed to have almost managed to loosen his ropes.

  Zane had to duck as Earflaps took another jab at him with the shotgun, too close to get off an actual shot with it, and he managed to get the man in the gut with a good punch. As Earflaps doubled over with a howl, the gun fell from his belt to the dirt, only to kick away toward the others. Zane stayed on him and kicked out viciously, his boot coming into crunching contact with one of Earflaps’s knees and then his gut; Earflaps gave a series of pitiful howls and collapsed, falling over on top of his shotgun. Zane spun around, trying to find the sidearm.

  Neither Earl nor Deuce were free yet. Ty still held Redjacket by his neck, and as Zane watched he rolled the unconscious man to the s
ide and pushed himself up, reaching for the gun on the ground next to him. But before Ty could get to it, Swizzlestick raised his shotgun and aimed it right at Ty’s back.

  In that split-second, Zane reacted instinctively: he snatched Ty’s gun up from the dirt and pulled the trigger without a single thought.

  Three gunshots cracked loudly in immediate succession, echoing in the forest, and everything came to a sudden stop as Swizzlestick collapsed, thudding hollowly on the ground with three bullets in the chest.

  Chapter 11

  TY ROLLED to his side as soon as the shooting started, ducking and covering and then rolling into a crouch with Redjacket’s gun, prepared to return fire. He found himself with his gun aimed at Zane, his finger on the trigger and ready to squeeze. Zane was on his knees, having turned his gun on Earflaps, who seemed frozen in place, shotgun loosely in hand, as he stared at Swizzlestick’s bleeding corpse.

  “Put it down or you’re joining him,” Zane said harshly to the stunned man, outstretched arm not wavering as he held his gun on him.

  Ty gasped, his heart racing as he aimed the gun away from Zane. He turned his head to look at the man who lay dead. He was sprawled on his back, bleeding from three different expertly placed bullet holes.

  Zane had killed the guy without even a blink of the eye. Ty had agonized over how to do this without bloodshed, and then Zane had just gone off and shot the guy. While he’d known that Zane was capable of killing, Ty hadn’t seen it. Not like this. Not at all, now that he thought about it.

  The gunshots had caused everything to cease long enough for Earl to finally free himself. He was cutting Deuce loose with a knife he’d grabbed from somewhere. Ty knew he should move to help, but all he could do was stay there on his knees and stare at his partner in stunned silence. He’d known Zane had killed Tim Henninger from reading the reports of what had happened in New York. He’d never asked Zane about it, though, and on some level he hadn’t truly believed Zane really had it in him to take a life so easily.