Killian

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Killian Page 15

by Dale Mayer


  She gasped in horror as she recognized the man still standing.

  Jesus, it was James Dean.

  He was here too. That murderous killing bastard. But she had absolutely no hope of running away now. At least not from him. She sank as quietly as she could to the ground, out of sight, hoping that something would save her. Just when she thought the crackling noises beside her would overwhelm her, that bullets would riddle her body any second, she heard shouts in the distance and sirens.

  Was that a helicopter?

  The silence of the woods had been broken by absolute chaos, as a team of something new moved in. She huddled up tight, as James Dean tore off into the darkness of the shadows in the woods. Relieved, she slowly made her way to the man who James had attacked. She wasn’t sure who this man down was, but, as she reached a hand to check for a pulse, she noted his neck was broken, and he was gone. In the game of life and death, James Dean had scored and had scored well. Her bitterness grew as she realized that the only thing that had saved her was whatever that new chaos had been.

  She heard a shout from behind and turned to see Killian, where she was supposed to have been. She called out, “I’m here.”

  He made his way slowly through the trees, carrying her father.

  She raced toward them with a cry, falling all over her father, and, with relief, her dad turned and looked at her, then whispered, “I’m okay.”

  She snorted. “You’re not okay. You’re hurt.”

  “Yes,” he said.

  She looked over at Killian to see his hard gaze locked on the body of one of the men from his team. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “It was James Dean. I saw it happen.”

  “Good to know,” he said. “I’ll make sure I get retaliation for that.”

  “Will that help at all?” she asked.

  “It won’t hurt,” he said.

  “Maybe,” she murmured. “But we already have one dead. Let’s not have any more.”

  “Well, the police are here,” he said. “They’ve picked up two of Max’s men, and we have another two bad guys down.”

  “What about Max and James?”

  “I don’t know,” he said. “I’m also missing Hatch.”

  She stared at him in shock. “Dear God, no. Please … no.”

  “Let’s get back to the car,” he said. “And get your father taken care of.”

  She led the way back, following his instructions when she went wrong. When, for the third time, he had her change course, she looked at him and glared. “How is it you can tell where you are, when you’ve never been here before?”

  “Because it’s what I do,” he said simply.

  She rolled her eyes but was heartened by the fact that her father had a smile on his face at their banter. She looked at him, feeling the tears in her eyes, but he waved them off with an ever-so-slight shake of his head. “Go on now,” he said. “I told you that I’m fine.”

  It didn’t matter what he said on the subject because she didn’t really believe him. But she would do whatever she could to get him some help. It was obvious that he was in a great deal of pain, and that needed to stop, right now. Back at the car, Killian called out to her and said, “Hold on. I want to get ahead of you.”

  She stopped when she saw the car in her view and let him lead the way. She was completely surprised he held a handgun, even as he carried her father, but the fact that he felt danger was still out here scared her.

  “Max was here,” she said. “He attacked me, and that’s when he went after Hatch.”

  “And I thought Hatch had made it out of this. I watched him evade Max’s bullets.” His head perked up, as sirens neared them.

  She walked behind him, as they slowly moved their way through and around to the vehicle. It was hard to maneuver with so much underbrush and thick sticky pines. She didn’t even remember dashing from the vehicle. When they circled back, Killian ever watchful, he slowly lowered her father into the back seat, the two of them talking quietly. She saw her father wince, as he shifted, trying to get more comfortable. She turned toward Killian and asked, “How bad is it?”

  “It’s bad,” he said, “but he’s alive.”

  She nodded and said, “Max was here, and I know that Hatch shot him.”

  “I know. I saw it too. Now I need to find Hatch.” He had his phone out and sent a quick message. Then he turned and looked at where the footprints were.

  She pointed. “Hatch was over there. Max was standing right here. I swear to God, Max should be dead.”

  “Where did he take the blow? My angle was blocked.”

  “I thought in the chest,” she said, “but now I don’t know.”

  Killian didn’t say anything, just nodded and said, “I want you to stay right here. I’m not going far. I’m just checking where we saw Hatch last.” And he headed for the position where Hatch had fired at Max.

  She called out, “Maybe he went into the center after you.”

  “Maybe.” He turned and looked at her and said, “The cops are coming up the road behind you.”

  With that, she turned to see other vehicles. Feeling a sense of relief inside, she nodded, and he disappeared into the trees. She heard him looking, but he wasn’t calling out, and that made her wonder. When the first cop pulled up off the side of the road, she motioned to him. A hand was lifted, and two men came toward her.

  She said, “We need an ambulance for my father.” And she pointed out her dad, slumped in the vehicle.

  The cop bent beside him, and she heard the two of them talking.

  The other one came over and asked, “Are you alone?”

  “No,” she said. “Killian is looking for his partner, Hatch, out here.”

  “I better go help him.”

  “I wouldn’t do that,” she said. “Anybody who isn’t expected to be out there is likely to get shot.” She said it in such a serious tone because she really meant it. The cop looked at her in surprise. She shrugged. “It’s craziness out there right now, with two gunmen aiming for all of us.”

  “Good to know,” he said. “I’m calling for an ambulance for your father.”

  “Thank you,” she said sincerely. “He certainly didn’t deserve this.”

  “Nobody ever does,” he said. “But I can tell you that, the gunmen out there, they really don’t give a shit.”

  She nodded. “Thank you for not being one of them.”

  He gave her a gentle smile and said, “Let me go to the pathway, where I can get better reception, and we’ll get this show on the road.”

  The other cop stayed and talked with her father. She worried that the policeman was just trying to keep Dad awake and keep him cognizant. It was almost as if they knew each other. She just smiled when her father gave her a thumbs-up; then she turned her attention back to where Killian had disappeared. She chewed on her bottom lip, hating that sense of something being so very wrong right now. But, of course, it still was. Until she had all the players out of the forest, and her ex and that asshole James Dean were caught, she would never feel free and clear. When a sudden noise came from her right, she immediately backed up against the police officer. But it was Killian, coming out of the bush, carrying somebody.

  She raced toward him. “Is that Hatch?”

  He nodded. “It is. But Max’s body is back there too.”

  “Jesus,” she said. “Is Hatch okay?”

  “He’s got a bullet high in the shoulder,” he said. “And it looks like a blow to the head.”

  “I’m fine,” Hatch said in a slurred voice.

  She glared at him. “You’re not fine,” she said. “What the hell happened? Didn’t you shoot Max?”

  “I did, and, when I came to check on him,” he said, “he grabbed me. We fought and I managed to get free, but somehow he still was coming after me. I shot him again and dropped him. Then I got tackled, from behind.”

  “And that would have been James Dean,” she said. “Like I said, the two are inseparable.”

  “
Well, I got off another shot, and he ran.”

  “Well, at least we got one,” she said, turning to Killian. “So Max’s really dead now?”

  “He is dead,” Killian said.

  She looked behind him.

  He said, “Don’t. We’re getting Hatch here some attention. Then I’ll go back and get James Dean.”

  “God,” she said, sinking down into the driver’s seat. “This has just been such a nightmare.”

  “It is, yet we’re getting it closed up nicely.”

  “Not unless you get James Dean,” she murmured.

  “That’s next,” he said. “Remember?”

  “I know.”

  He put Hatch inside the vehicle, while she sat in the driver’s seat. The cop talked to both of them.

  “Don’t you go unconscious on me,” she said to Hatch.

  “I was unconscious, but now I’m awake.” He looked over at the man seated beside him. “You must be her father. Nice to meet you, sir.”

  Her father nodded ever-so-slowly. “Thank you so much,” he said, “for taking care of my daughter and for coming and rescuing me. I’m so sorry you got hurt.”

  “I’m fine,” he said. “It goes with the job.”

  “But you’re shot,” she said.

  He gave her a flat stare. “This is not being shot,” he said. “It’s hardly a nick. This happens on a regular basis.”

  She just stared at him.

  He nodded. “It’s a fact of life. We go up against gunfire on a regular basis,” he said. “We have to expect to take a bullet or two once in a while.”

  She took a long slow deep breath and then nodded. “It’s just such a foreign thing for me.”

  “Sure it is, and it should be,” Hatch said. “You don’t want to be dealing with all this.”

  “No,” she said. “But, if that’s what it is, I’ll get accustomed to it.”

  He grinned. “Meaning?”

  “We have to catch James Dean,” she whispered.

  “We will,” he said. “Have a little faith.”

  Just then they heard more sirens coming.

  The cop looked over at her, smiled, and said, “The cavalry is coming to take these two back to the hospital.”

  “Good,” she said, turning to glare at Hatch, who was already shaking his head. “No, no, you don’t,” she said. “You need to get that looked at.”

  “I’m fine,” he said, with a hard look.

  “Stop being so macho,” she snapped.

  At that, Killian stepped back over and laughed. “He will go and get it looked after because it’s the only way he can stay on the job.” At that, Hatch rolled his eyes and glared out the window. “You’ll be back and fighting fit in no time.”

  “I’m fighting fit now,” Hatch said quietly. “And you’re not going anywhere without me.”

  “You really think we’re still in danger?” she asked.

  Hatch turned slowly, looked at her, and said, “James Dean is after you, and he won’t stop now.”

  “I was kind of hoping that, with Max dead, then maybe it was all over.” She turned and realized that Killian had headed back into the woods. Fear began to prickle at her consciousness, but, minutes later, he returned, carrying the body of her ex-husband. She felt the bile rise in her throat, as the fear boiled over inside her. “I know this makes no sense,” she said, “but I’m still terrified, even though I know he’s dead.”

  “Maybe you want to make sure,” Hatch suggested. “Just to know that he won’t jump up and run.”

  She frowned, slowly got out, and walked around to the spot where Max was. She reached out a hand and touched him. When he didn’t do anything, she wanted to believe that he was gone. At the same time, … she still wondered. Then Killian pulled back Max’s shirt and bared his chest. She saw the open wound on Max’s abdomen. “He was wearing a bulletproof vest,” she cried out.

  “That’s how he evaded the first bullet,” Killian said quietly. “Sometimes getting hit, even with a vest, will set you back and looks like you’ve taken a full-on hit. But, since the bullet doesn’t penetrate the body, it’s more of a shock and easy to get back up from.”

  She nodded. “Well, this bastard won’t be getting up anymore.”

  He nodded. “No way.”

  She let out a long low deep breath. “Thank God,” she whispered.

  Meanwhile, the cops were helping the EMTs move her dad to the ambulance. She gave him a little wave and a smile.

  “I know,” Killian said. “Max’s death is one ending, but it doesn’t exactly answer any of the other questions though.”

  “Well, the police can rummage through his life and figure it out after this,” she said. “I’m just so damn grateful it’s over with, as far as it concerns Max.”

  “And that’s a good way to look at it from now on,” he said.

  “So, how do we find James Dean?”

  “The authorities are already looking for him. The woods are being searched, and they’ll hunt him down now.”

  “He’s just … wily,” she said. “I don’t know which was worse between the two of them, but I know that I’m just grateful Max is out of commission now.”

  He helped her back into the driver’s seat and said, “Hatch won’t go on the ambulance if he can get out of it, so I’ll take him to the emergency room myself and get that shoulder looked at. We’ll get someone to handle Max’s body. So scoot over on this side, and we’ll drive out of here.”

  She nodded and moved into the passenger seat, and Killian drove them slowly, staying out of the way of all the other emergency vehicles, with her father now loaded up into the ambulance. They waited until the ambulance pulled out ahead, while her gaze surveyed the woods. “You’re sure the woods are being searched?”

  “Absolutely,” he said. “Why?”

  She turned back to the spot where she just felt that sense of being watched, and, as she did, she thought she saw somebody in the woods. “Because he’s there,” she said quietly, “watching us.”

  He looked where she pointed and said, “And, by the time I get there, he’ll be long gone.” But he pulled out his phone and directed searchers to come in their direction.

  And, with that, she said, “Even now I don’t know for sure if I saw him.”

  “I promise you. That area will get searched.”

  “What if he kills somebody?”

  “Well, hopefully not,” he said. “We should go now.” Then he gave her a head nod.

  She looked over at him. “What?”

  “Look at your leg.”

  When she looked down, she gasped.

  “When did that happen?” he asked.

  “I don’t know,” she said.

  “Well, that’s another reason we’ll go to the hospital,” he said. “That leg needs to be looked at.”

  And, sure enough, she had rivulets of blood flowing down her already injured leg. She sagged back, as the pain hit her. “Why didn’t it hurt before?” she murmured.

  “It happens that way sometimes. You’re still so stressed and in shock that you don’t realize how injured you are, until it’s pointed out. Once you see it for yourself, it hurts.”

  “Then why would you point it out?” she cried out at him.

  In the back seat, Hatch laughed. “See?” he said. “It’s not me who needs to go the hospital. It’s you.”

  “I’m fine,” she said, growling back at him.

  And that made Hatch laugh even more, as she repeated Hatch’s words from earlier back at him.

  She sagged against her seat. “Well, aren’t we a hell of a pair?”

  “Yep,” Killian said. “Now I have two of you to look after.”

  “Like hell,” they both snapped at the same time. At that, they both started to laugh.

  Killian grinned and headed off toward the hospital, following the ambulance.

  Killian was grateful that it had ended as well as it had, but he was still pissed that one of the bad guys had gotten away and
devasted at the loss of a good man. An odd suspicion popped up in the back of his mind, when he caught the profile of Dean. He wasn’t exactly sure what he’d seen and didn’t want to bring it up—in case he was completely off—but Killian was racking his memory, trying to match it up. Something was so familiar about what he thought was James Dean’s profile.

  If it was even him.

  And that was frustrating in itself because it was really hard, with the heavy forest lending its own darkness, to get a clear view of anything.

  At the hospital, nobody argued with Killian. But Hatch and Stacey were arguing back and forth, amiably, to the point that it was almost a joke. Killian knew Hatch was just trying to keep her positive and upbeat, while he kept his own mind diverted from the pain. And she was probably doing the same thing. In many ways they were alike, and that would probably drive them all crazy. But Killian smiled, as he moved both of them into the hospital emergency area, where they were put into a private room and quickly checked over.

  Some advantages came with being part of the Mavericks team, and, man, Killian needed that right now.

  Very quickly, Hatch was wheeled out for a CAT scan of his head and to precisely determine the location of the bullet. By the time he got back, chances were, the bullet would already be out. The surgery might be a little on the rough side, being done in secrecy, without all the typical frills. But it would be done and done fast.

  As for Stacey, Killian frowned as he looked at her, her leg still bleeding. “Is that a new gash, or did you rip your stitches?”

  She shrugged. “I have no clue and don’t even really care. I’m just worried about my father.”

  “He’s here. I’ll go get a status update for you.” He stepped out and went to talk to the nearest nurse. She gave him the little bit that they knew at this point—that her father was being checked over intensively, and, as yet, they had no definitive answers as to the extent of the damage. By the time Killian made his way back to Stacey, the doctor had been in, and a nurse was cleaning Stacey’s wound. Thankfully it was a new gash, not the other one, since it would be problematic to restitch a wound that old. But a new one with fresh margins could get new stitches, and, as long as she took it easy, both would heal.

 

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