by JEFF MOTES
I get the wheelbarrow from the garage, then look for the axe. It’s hanging by a nail on the opposite wall. I walk by Mr. Wright’s truck. A blue tarp is on the back, and it looks like it’s covering a lot of stuff. I had not noticed that the other times I’ve been in the garage. In fact, I’m pretty sure the truck bed was empty yesterday. But what does it matter? It’s none of my business what he stores on the back of his truck.
I retrieve the axe, place it in the wheelbarrow, and return to the girls.
Lizzy gets the axe out and looks at it inquiringly.
“For me,” I say.
She hands it to me then picks up the handles of the wheelbarrow. “Let’s go, Amy.”
They head for the tree line where the pecan limbs are lying on the ground. I watch her go. She is so pretty. They start picking up limbs, tossing them into the wheelbarrow. I try to clear my thoughts, yet I look over at her one more time before setting the wood up for the fire.
Mrs. Wright comes out with a pan of meat strips. “Jimmy said to get these going. He’s going to marinate the others a little longer.”
“All right, Mrs. Wright. Would you mind helping me? Lizzy and Amy are gathering a little more wood.”
“Okay,” she responds. “Show me what you want me to do.”
“Just hold the bowl if you don’t mind.”
I open the smokehouse door and start hanging the strips of meat, this time starting on the top rack and working down. This batch is enough to fill the complete top rack.
“Will, I really appreciate you staying and helping us. We all do.”
I bend down and light the fire using a lighter. It starts slowly, then builds into a full fire.
“We’ll let this burn down to coals then start adding just enough to keep a good smoke going.”
I step out and close the door. When I turn around, Mrs. Wright is looking at me, tears in her eyes. She hugs me close. “I hope everything is okay with your grandfather. And I really hope your dad and Lizzy’s mom return soon.”
Lizzy pushes the wheelbarrow over to the woodpile. She and Amy picked up a lot of wood. Mrs. Wright releases me, pats my chest, and looks down.
“Thanks, Mrs. Wright. I appreciate everything y’all have done for Lizzy.”
She looks up with a faint smile. “We’re really going to miss you, Lizzy.” She hugs Lizzy. “You’ve done so much for us. I will never forget what you have done.”
Lizzy is getting teary eyed. Heck, I am too.
Mrs. Wright asks, “Where’s Amy?”
Lizzy points toward the tree line. “She’s picking wildflowers.”
My gaze follows her finger. Amy is bending over gathering flowers and vines. Then somebody else is there! He grabs Amy, and she screams. It’s Cole Hilton!
He’s dragging her deeper into the woods. Her screams are frantic. “Stop! Please stop! Help me! Somebody help me!”
“Lizzy, stay here! I’m going for Amy.”
I’m running full sprint for where they were. Cole’s pulled her deeper in the woods out of sight. I only have a few seconds to scan the area before I enter the woods. He’s pulling her down a narrow game trail. I catch a glimpse of them up ahead, but my speed slows as limbs sting my face and briars tug at my pants. There is an opening up ahead; I’m less than a hundred yards behind them and closing fast. Cole is forcing Amy onto a 4-wheeler. She is struggling fiercely, and he smacks her hard across the face. Her struggles cease instantly. Then they’re both on the 4-wheeler and driving away.
As I approach the opening, I see another 4-wheeler. Then from behind a large pine tree, something flashes out and hits me hard in the face.
The blow sends me down hard to the floor of the woods. I’m stunned and confused. My vision is blurry, and warm liquid fills my left eye, making it even more difficult to see. A figure emerges from behind the tree. It’s Roy Hilton.
“Boy! You killed my brother! I’m going to gut you right here!”
Blows begin raining down on my already bloody face. I try to ward off the blows, but I’m still stunned from the first blow. My defense is ineffective. Everything is happening so fast! I’m not going to be able to withstand this onslaught much longer. My gun! I get my hand wrapped around the grip. Then another blow lands, and my arms refuse to move. I see him there straddling me as my vision begins to fade in and out. The sounds seem so far away.
A large knife appears in his hand, and he raises his arm, yet I’m unable to respond.
“Now you’re going to die!”
I whisper one final prayer.
“God, please protect Lizzy.”
Chapter 30
Lizzy
Will!
Day 10
I’m stunned by the things happening so fast. Amy is screaming. Cole is dragging her into the woods!
“Lizzy, stay here. I’m going for Amy.”
Will is gone in a flash, running for the woods. My shock is short lived as the screams and cries from Mrs. Lynn bring me back to action. Mrs. Lynn is running for the woods. I quickly overtake her and run up the stairs of the deck. My shotgun is leaning against the deck rail where I left it after coming outside this morning. I grab it and run from the stairs. A strong hand grabs my arm, halting me. It’s Mr. Jimmy.
“Lizzy, what’s going on?”
I jerk my arm from his grasp. “Amy,” I blurt out. “They’ve taken Amy!”
My adrenaline is pumping in overdrive, and my breathing is heavy. Without another word, I run down the steps. Will is nowhere in sight, but I can still hear Amy’s screams. I pass Mrs. Lynn on the ground not far from the deck. She’s sitting there crying. I dash for the tree line where I last saw Amy, entering a game trail. I hear a 4-wheeler crank up and drive away.
I catch glimpses between the trees of what is happening ahead of me. Will is being attacked! The trail makes a bend and places me right in front of the man beating on Will. He raises a knife.
Oh, dear God, help me!
I scream, “No!!!”
Raising the shotgun, I aim straight for the man’s face. My scream causes him to pause for an instant and look up.
Thank You, God!
I squeeze the trigger. The loud report and recoil into my shoulder go unnoticed, but the flash is before my eyes. The impact of the 00 buckshot rips the man’s face apart and sends him flying off Will.
I run quickly to Will and reload my shotgun. I look at the bloody remains of the man’s face. There is no way he is still alive. Two weeks ago, I would have been on the ground screaming, but not now. There’s no time for it. I must stay strong. I push the image of the man’s bloody face deep down inside. Kneeling beside Will, I set my shotgun to the side. Another 4-wheeler cranks up. I glance up in time to see it darting away.
Will’s face is covered in blood, but he’s alive!
Thank You, dear God!
My tears are flowing, but I can’t let them interfere. Will needs my help. I must stop the bleeding, but with what? I try to tear a strip from my shirt, but the fabric won’t yield.
Quickly, I pull it over the top of my head and start wiping the blood with it. There is a large cut above Will’s left eyebrow and several minor abrasions across his face. Using my shirt, I apply pressure to the gash. His blood is all over my hands and arms. He’s starting to move around now.
“It’s okay, Will. I’m here,” I assure him, keeping pressure to the wound. “You’re going to be all right.”
His eyes regain focus, and he speaks. It’s weak but clear. “Lizzy, are you okay?”
Despite the blood all over his face, I bend over and kiss him gently on the lips.
“I love you, Will Carter!”
He breaks out into a smile.
Mr. Jimmy runs up and screams, “Where is Amy! Where is she!”
Will points to the clearing. “They took her on a 4-wheeler.”
Mr. Jimmy runs on into the clearing.
I help Will sit up.
Mr. Jimmy runs back and stops. He is in a full panic. “They’re gone! They’re gone! Why d
idn’t you stop them! Why! You let them take her!” Then he runs towards the house.
I sit there with Will for a few moments. He looks over at the man dead on the ground. “I’m sorry, Lizzy. I’m so sorry.”
My mind refuses to look at or even think about the man. My thoughts are all on Will. “Do you think you can stand and walk?”
“I think I can.”
I help him up and guide his hand to my shirt. “Can you hold this tight on your head?”
“Yeah,” he replies.
His eyes leave mine and fall to my chest. I blush, but there is nothing I can do. His eyes return to mine. “We need to help Amy.”
Amy!
My concern for Will has totally engulfed me. I forgot about Amy! Oh, poor Amy!
I remove my hand, making sure he can maintain the pressure. I bend down, pick up my shotgun, then stand and take his other arm, placing it around my shoulder.
“Let’s take care of you, then we’ll figure out how to help her.”
We trek back through the woods and across the backyard to the deck. The door into the house is open. I walk Will to the couch in the living room. Mrs. Lynn gasps when she sees Will and all the blood.
“Will!” she exclaims. “Are you all right?”
“Mrs. Lynn,” I say as calmly as I can, “we need some clean towels. I’ll get the water.”
Mr. Jimmy comes in, still frantic. “Will, give me the keys to your truck!”
“Mr. Wright, you’ve got to put the—”
“Give me the damn keys to your truck, now!”
Will reaches inside his pocket and comes out with the keys. In a flash, Mr. Jimmy snatches them out of his hand and heads for the door.
Will calls out. “Wait. I’ll go with you. Do you know where they live?”
Mr. Jimmy pauses at the door then lets out a string of curses and slams the keys to the floor. He’s still screaming curses as he goes outside. I’ve never heard him talk like that before.
“Lizzy, in my pack is a trauma kit and a first aid kit. Both are marked with a red cross. Get them both. Then let’s go to the bathroom where there’s a good mirror.”
I get the trauma kit and first aid kit from his pack, along with three bottles of water. Spying a white t-shirt in his pack, I pull it out and hold it in front of me. It looks clean. I sniff. It doesn’t smell bad. I pull it over my head and return to the living room. When I exit the room, the corner of my eye catches the bed. It’s all made up just like I would expect from Will.
Mrs. Wright is already back with the clean towels. I kneel on the floor close to Will’s head.
“Do either of you know much about first aid?” Will asks.
“Not much,” I reply. “I know how to stop bleeding but not much more.”
“No, not really,” Mrs. Lynn answers.
“I’ve got to see how bad the cut is,” Will says. “Depending on what I see, I’ll give you more instructions. First, we’re going to pray.” He gets to his knees. “Dear God. Thank You for protecting me this day. Thank You for sending Lizzy to my aid. Please protect Amy and guide us to where she is. I pray for strength and courage for each of us. In Jesus’ name, Amen.”
I gather up our supplies and follow Will up the stairs to the bathroom. I start to pull the wadded-up shirt away from his wound and grimace at the pained expression on his face. “I’m sorry, Will. It’s stuck.”
I wet one of the cloths and wipe the dried blood to release my shirt from the cut. He winces again. I’ve never done anything like this before! It’s making me nauseated.
Finally, I have my shirt detached from his forehead. The gash is not big, maybe two inches long, and it’s caked in blood.
Will sets his flashlight on the counter to shine on the ceiling, washing the room in a bright white light. He’s examining the cut in the mirror. “Hand me some wet gauze.”
He starts wiping across the gash until the dried blood on the surface is washed away. He shines his light directly on the cut and studies it closely in the mirror. “The edges are too far apart. If we leave it like this, it’s going to leave a really big scar. We have to move quickly so we can help Amy. Get the steri-strips, antiseptic wipes, another roll of gauze, and two pairs of nitrile gloves. Put the gloves on and have those things ready. It may start bleeding again.”
I open his kits and get the items. He even has several packs of sutures. I pick one up and look at it. Does he know how to do stitches? He catches my gaze at the suture kit.
“Those would be better,” he says, “but I’ve only done it in practice, and I don’t think I can do it using a mirror.”
I give him a pair of the gloves and pull on the other pair. I’ve already gotten his blood all over me, though it doesn’t seem to bother me for some reason. He cleans the cut, and he winces, his face contorting.
“Will, how do you know these things?”
“Training and studying,” he says, his voice tense with pain. “It isn’t hard if you make the effort to learn. There are groups of people all over who provide training of various types, even right here in Clarke County. Dad and I took an advanced trauma course last summer. It was part of our vacation.”
He winces again. I’m glad he didn’t ask me to do it. I would have cried knowing I was hurting him so much. Finally, he has the cut open and all the dried blood removed.
“Pour one of those bottles of water across the cut while I hold it open. This will flush any debris out before we close it back up. Might help cut down on the chances of infection.”
I open the bottle, hold it above the cut, and pour. The water flows across the cut and mixes with a small amount of blood running down his face onto a towel. There are tears in his eyes. I know this must hurt terribly.
“Now the gauze, then the antiseptic wipes.”
He wipes some of the blood away with the gauze then uses an antiseptic wipe to carefully clean around the cut. It stains his skin a brown color.
“All right, Lizzy, I need you to press the edges of the cut together while I put the steri-strips on.”
I press both sides of the cut together using two hands, then he places four steri-strips on, holding the wound tightly closed. We are standing so close, despite the seriousness of what is happening a chill runs over me. From his first aid kit, he retrieves a tube of antibiotics and gives it to me. I carefully apply a small amount to the cut then he covers the wound with a large self-adhesive bandage.
His face is puffy, and there are several smaller abrasions on his face. My lip starts to tremble, and the tears I’ve been holding inside begin to flow.
“Will, I thought you were going to die!” I hug him close.
“I’m okay, Lizzy. Your quick thinking saved my life. Thank you.”
I look up into his eyes and kiss him full on his lips. “I love you, Will Carter. I love you.”
“And I love you, Lizzy Barnes. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. Give me four ibuprofen then let’s go find Amy.”
Chapter 31
Jimmy
The Posse
Day 10
Amy is gone! How am I going to find her? Will’s truck is useless. There’s no gas in the tank. I run out to the garage and desperately try putting the siphon hose in my truck tank again. It won’t go. Frantically, I move to Lynn’s car and try again. It still won’t go.
Yanking the hose out, I sling it across the room. I pick up a hammer from the work table and beat on Lynn’s car, my rage spilling out.
Why? Why is everything against me?
I scream inside. My head is pounding. Dropping the hammer to the floor, I lean against the car. How am I going to find Amy? I don’t even know where the Hiltons live.
Will’s face was covered in blood. He’s going to be of no use right now. Why did he let them get away? He keeps a gun on his hip all the time. Why didn’t he shoot them? I slump to the floor, despair overtaking me, and I start to sob.
“Jimmy! Jimmy, where are you!” Lynn’s voice calls from outside.
I w
ipe the tears from my eyes and walk out of the garage. She sees me and runs over.
“Jimmy, what are you doing? We have to find Amy!”
I stare at her. “How?”
“Let’s take Will’s truck!”
“It won’t run.”
“How do you know? You threw the keys to the floor without even trying!”
“It won’t run. Trust me.”
“Trust you? Trust you? Why should I trust you? We should have done what Will suggested to start with and moved into Pastor Ezell’s community. But no, you had to stay here. Now our daughter is gone, and it’s all your fault!”
My temper flares, and I slap her across the face. Her startled eyes show confusion, and she recoils in fear as I unleash my fury.
“Shut up! Shut the hell up! I will find her, but you shut the hell up!”
She runs for the house. Will and Lizzy are standing on the porch looking in my direction. Lizzy follows Lynn inside, and Will walks down the steps. A bandage is on his forehead, and his carbine is in his hands. He heads straight for me. I pat my pants pocket, reassuring myself my new pistol is still there. But it’s useless right now. I haven’t even loaded the magazine.
He stops in front of me and stands there. What is the little punk looking at? I rip into him, my voice quivering in anger.
“Why, Will? Why didn’t you stop them? You had a gun. You could have shot them, but you didn’t. You stood there and let them take Amy away! What is wrong with you?”
The boy hasn’t even flinched at my verbal onslaught.
“Mr. Wright, I know you’re upset, and I am too, but you need to calm down if we’re going to find Amy. You losing it is only going to hurt her.”
His voice is calm, and that angers me even more, but he’s right. I can’t help Amy in the state I’m in.
“You’re right, Will. I’m sorry. I don’t know what to do.”
“They’ve probably taken her to their place,” he says. “We should look there first. Do you know where they live?”
“No. Somewhere further down the road.”
“All right, let’s take my truck and ride over to talk with Pastor Ezell. He said he knew the Hiltons. Maybe he knows where they live and perhaps they’ll help us.”
