For a few seconds, the two men froze. Now that Alex was closer he could see that one of the guys with Clay was Owl, and that he didn’t appear to be armed. It was the taller man who had the gun pressed to Clay’s back. Alex raised his voice again. “Get your hands up now, or I’ll release my dog.” He gave Bo a different signal, and the dog let out a series of barks and loud growling sounds.
Owl’s hands came up, just as he turned and looked into Alex’s eyes. Clearly Owl recognized him, and he shouted at the bald guy, “He’s got a gun and a dog. Do what he says!”
Instead, Owl’s accomplice fired wildly at Clay and, in the same motion, spun around and aimed his gun at Alex. It took just one bullet from Alex’s gun to level the suspect, knocking him to the ground, motionless. Clay was writhing against the car, holding his shoulder. “I’m okay … it’s just my arm,” he shouted. Alex was about to signal Bo to watch Owl and the man on the ground so he could go to his friend, when there was a blur of movement behind him.
Before he could cock his gun, Bo barked once and leaped back into the shadows at a man Alex hadn’t even seen, a man who had come up behind them unnoticed and now was just a few feet away. With a ferocious second bark, Bo knocked the third man to the grass, but as he did, the man fired once at Bo’s chest.
“No!” Alex held up his gun, his knees weak. “No … Bo, come here!”
Bo let out a sound Alex had never heard from his dog. The man’s gun flew from his hand as he and Bo fell to the ground. Alex was breathing hard, gasping. “Bo, come here, boy!”
“He’s shot.” Clay’s voice rose above the noise. “Get the suspect’s gun.”
Alex saw the weapon a few feet from him. He grabbed it and shoved it in his back pocket, his eyes never leaving those of his dog. Bo was lying limp across the suspect’s chest, his regal head looking back for Alex. In that split second, Alex saw in Bo’s eyes something he’d never seen before, something that told him the situation was terribly serious.
Bo’s eyes were glazed with fear.
“Hold on, Bo!”
The suspect’s glasses were on the ground and he groped about, pushing Bo off him. Alex wanted to scream at him, ask him why he would set fire to houses and shoot at deputies under the guise of environmentalism. He aimed his gun at the man, but the suspect was no longer armed.
“Freeze!” Alex was shaking, desperate to help Bo. It took every bit of restraint to keep from pulling the trigger, but the suspect did as he asked. He stopped and raised his hands slowly into the air.
Alex gave a quick glance over his shoulder and saw Clay reach into the car and pull out a T-shirt from his passenger seat. “Help me with this.” He waved it in Alex’s direction. Owl still stood nearby, his face frozen in shock.
Bo was whimpering now, a sick, slow sort of whine. All around them the wind and fire raged, and Alex noticed two more houses now covered in flames that had spread from the other burning structures. “Hold on, boy.” He yelled the words at his dog and raced over to his friend, his gun still aimed straight at the third suspect.
He turned just long enough to take the T-shirt from Clay and tie it above the gunshot wound on his upper arm. The wound was bleeding, but not badly enough to be life-threatening. Not yet, anyway, and the tourniquet would help. “You okay?” Alex was breathing hard. He pulled tight on the T-shirt ends and made sure the pressure was in the right place.
“I’m fine.” Clay was in pain, but he was handling it. He looked down the street and shook his head. “We’re in trouble, buddy. We gotta get out of here.”
A quick look at the suspect on the ground told Alex what he suspected from the beginning. The guy was dead.
“What … what about the fire?” Owl shouted from where he stood, motionless, petrified.
“Don’t move,” Alex barked at him. But before he could leave Clay and turn the gun back at the third suspect, the guy took off, running down the street toward the model home.
“Let him go.” Clay winced, holding his arm against his waist. “Bo needs you.”
Alex felt sick as he turned his attention to Bo. The dog wasn’t moving, but he still had his head a few inches off the ground, his eyes on Alex, where they had no doubt been since the gun had gone off nearly two minutes ago. Alex slipped his gun back into the holster and fell to his knees at his dog’s side. “Bo … hold on, buddy. It’s okay.” In the light of the street lamp he could see the dark, wet circle spreading out from Bo’s furry chest.
There was no telling where the bullet was, whether it had cleared the dog and maybe only left a wound that could be treated, or whether his injury was much worse. Alex wouldn’t let himself think about it. He lowered his face to Bo’s and talked calmly against the dog’s ear. “It’s okay, Bo … hold on, boy. It’s okay.” As Alex straightened again, Bo twisted his head back and licked Alex’s hand. Like before, his eyes never left Alex’s.
Always, Alex had been able to guess what his dog was thinking, and this moment was no exception. Bo’s eyes told him of a love and loyalty that couldn’t be measured, a care and concern that went beyond his desire to look after himself. In his eyes Alex could see that whatever the outcome, Bo would’ve done the same thing again. He had taken a bullet intended for Alex, and that was something Bo had been willing to do from the moment the two paired up.
Alex hadn’t really cried since right after his dad was killed. The guy he’d been before the terrorist attacks grieved his father long into the night that awful Tuesday, but afterwards buried his pain deep and allowed his determination to drive him. He’d struggled a few times, sure — like when he said his last good-bye to Holly. But he hadn’t cried once.
Until now.
With tears hot against his cheeks, he swept his dog into his arms, stood up, and ran him back to his truck. He looked at Clay, and his sick feeling doubled. His friend didn’t look good. “Stay here. I’ll be right back,” he yelled.
“What about me?” It was Owl, his frightened shriek rising above the sound of the fire and wind.
Alex stopped for half a second and stared at the guy through the smoke and blowing embers. “Don’t move.”
Clay was pale and his skin looked clammy. He leaned against his car and closed his eyes. The sound of a helicopter rose above the sound of the roaring fire, and Alex realized what was happening. Air drops on the fire. That would help, but already the development was an inferno.
Running as fast as he could, Alex carried Bo to the truck and set him carefully across the backseat. “Come on, Bo … you can do this.” He spoke the words as calmly as he could, because Bo could sense trouble in his voice. The dog had always been perceptive, and right now he needed to believe that Alex thought he had a chance. And Alex did think so. He refused to think otherwise. Of course, Bo had a chance. He wasn’t going to die. He’d survived these last few minutes, so now they only had to get him to a vet hospital.
Alex pulled his truck out of its hiding place and screeched up to the spot where Clay was still leaning against his car. Moving as fast as he could, Alex ran from his truck, grabbed Clay, and walked him to the front passenger seat, helping him inside.
“You!” he barked at Owl. “Get in the back.”
Owl didn’t need to be told twice. He lurched forward and vaulted himself into the truck bed.
Alex jumped back in behind the wheel and glanced at Clay. “Hang in there.”
“How … how are we … getting through the fire?” Clay slumped against the back of his seat, struggling to keep his eyes open. “Everything’s burning.”
“I know another way.” Alex peered down the street. Clay was right. The fire was burning across the main street of the development now, moving closer to the model home. But it didn’t matter. They’d have to get through it somehow, because on the other side of the flames, the fire road would still be a safe way down the mountain.
Alex took off and radioed a quick update — one suspect dead, one in custody, one at large. “I’ve got two victims — Michaels and my dog.” He expla
ined that he was heading down the fire road half a mile west of the Oak Canyon turn off. His words were sharp and fast. “I’ll need a couple of ambulances.”
“Ten-four. Stop at the model home. The woman who made the call is still there. She was trapped by the fire, same as Sergeant Michaels.”
Alex looked at Clay and then over his shoulder at Bo. Every minute counted at this point — for both of them. But if a woman was trapped in the model home, he’d have to get her. He was sizing up the extent of the fire ahead of him when he spotted a car parked outside the model, a car he’d missed the first time he’d passed by. It must’ve belonged to the woman.
Alex dragged his fist over his eyes. No more tears. He couldn’t break down now, not when he had so much to do. Again he looked back at Bo, and even now his dog was watching him, looking almost apologetic, like he still wanted to help but his body would no longer let him. Alex shifted his attention to his friend. “You with me, Michaels?”
“I’m here.” Clay sounded sleepy, dizzy. He was still losing blood, and he needed to get to a hospital. But Alex had to get the woman first. “I’ve gotta check the model house. Dispatch says the woman who called in is still in there.”
“Check it.” Clay lifted his good hand, his voice a little stronger than before. “I’ll be fine.”
Alex drove up nearly to the front door of the model, jumped out, and raised his gun. He couldn’t be too safe. The other suspect had run in this direction, and there was no telling if he’d gotten hold of another gun. Already once today he’d forgotten the possibility of additional suspects. He hurried to the front of the house and tried the handle, but it was locked. He pounded the butt of his gun against the door. “Police … anyone here?” By now he expected that somehow she’d escaped, run down the street toward the fire road, knowing that her car wouldn’t have made it. Certainly, the developer would’ve told his employees about the alternate way out.
He was about to kick in the door and check the place — just in case some other REA member was holding the woman hostage, when suddenly the door opened and a frantic-looking woman stepped out. “I thought they’d forgotten about — “ She stopped, stunned.
For a long moment, Alex couldn’t do anything but stare at her, too shocked to act or think or do anything but try to make sense of what he was seeing.
“Alex?” She swayed, confused, terrified. “I …” she looked over her shoulder. “I didn’t know whether it was safe to come out and …”
“Holly, you … you made the call?”
“Yes.” She was shivering. “I work here.”
He tried to find his way back to the urgency of the moment. “Are you by yourself?”
“Yes. They stayed away from the model.” She stepped out, and from that vantage point she must’ve been able to see the full extent of the blaze for the first time. She put her hand over her mouth. “The fire … it’s everywhere!”
Another helicopter was approaching overhead, dropping a load of chemical fire retardant over the part of the street Alex had to get through in order to reach the fire road. “Come on.” He put his gun back and grabbed her hand. “We have to get out of here.”
He couldn’t process everything his heart was feeling. Holly Brooks worked at Oak Canyon Estates? All this time he’d gone by the place and even driven down this street and he’d never known that she —
Another explosion sounded from behind them, and the house next to the model burst into flames. The wind was pushing burning embers in every direction, so it was only a matter of minutes before the model went up too. He raced with Holly to his truck and helped her into the backseat next to Bo. “My dog got shot.” He looked at her for half a second, and he knew she could feel the pain in his eyes. Her appearance was still familiar, still the Holly he’d known and loved when he was a boy. She gave the slightest nod as she climbed into his truck, as if to say she’d help the dog, whatever she could do.
Once he was back in the driver’s seat, Alex put his hand on Clay’s knee. “Talk to me, man. You doing okay?”
“I need … a doctor.”
“You’ll get one.” Alex refused the feelings that had come instantly to life when he looked into Holly’s eyes. The REA wasn’t going to kill Clay or Bo, not him or Holly, not while Alex had anything to say about it. He jerked the truck into reverse, and as soon as they were facing the right direction, he shoved the gearshift into drive. “Everybody hold on.”
From the back of the truck, Owl let out a petrified yell. The fingers of fire that blew over the street ahead of them were thinner now, but the road was still covered by a towering fifteen-foot wall of flames. Alex gritted his teeth and slammed his gas pedal hard to the floorboard. In a rush of heat and bright orange, the Dodge passed clean through the blaze and onto the street beyond it. Only then did Alex allow himself to exhale.
He checked his rearview mirror. Owl had his hands over his head, but he was fine. They’d done it; they’d cleared the fire. In that moment he saw the third suspect on the side of the road waving at them, his face stricken. Alex didn’t trust the guy. He’d have to come back for him. Up ahead Alex was right about the fire road. The way was clear. But for a few burning houses on the right side of the street, the fire was all headed downhill, away from the fire road.
He reached the end of the street and jerked his truck into four-wheel drive. As he did he looked back at Holly, but she was bent over Bo, stroking his side, whispering to him, comforting him. Alex looked straight ahead and swallowed another wave of tears. He would get them out of here, because he had to get them to safety. He commanded his truck over the rough terrain between the development and the fire road, and once he was on the narrow dirt trail, he flew as fast as he could down the hill.
At the base of the road, a host of emergency vehicles were waiting. He barreled toward them and slid to a stop a few yards from the first ambulance and a group of waiting paramedics with a stretcher. Alex jammed the gearshift into park and tore out of his truck. Clay was his first concern. He waved the medics to the passenger side, and one of them beat him to the door.
“My dog!” Alex shouted at the other paramedics near the second ambulance. “He’s in the back.”
A pair of them hurried with another stretcher to the back door of Alex’s truck. At the same time, two additional medics ran up to Clay with the stretcher and, as Alex reached Clay’s side, his friend opened his eyes. “Hey … thanks.” His mouth sounded dry, and he looked drawn and pale. “Can’t believe … you got us out of there. Whole hillside’s … on fire.” He looked back toward the truck. “I’m okay.” He paused, his breathing harder than before. “Go get Bo.”
A pair of SWAT officers took Owl from the back of the truck bed, and Alex shouted at them. “Third suspect’s still up there.”
“We’ll put out an APB,” one of them yelled back at him. “But it’s too dangerous to go back up.”
Alex took a step back, torn. The medics had an IV in Clay and already were assessing his vitals. Alex caught the eye of the first medic, and the guy gave him a slight nod that told him what he wanted to know. Clay was going to be okay. They’d reached the bottom of the hill in time.
“Get … Bo,” Clay sounded as serious as he could, given the situation.
Alex nodded. He turned and ran to the other side of his truck where a couple of guys were lifting Bo carefully and setting him on the stretcher. Holly had stayed beside him, and now she was stooped over him, her long hair hanging against his side as she stroked his head and his ears.
Alex looked at her for a fleeting moment. “Thank you.”
She didn’t say anything, just brought her fingers to her mouth. That’s when he saw that she was crying. He didn’t have time to think about her tears, about why she was crying and whether the reason was because of Bo or because of him or because they’d nearly died in a fire. All that mattered right now was Bo. Alex moved in closer to the stretcher, and Holly backed up to make room for him.
“Hey, Bo … it’s okay. I’m
here.” Bo’s eyes were closed, and he wasn’t moving. Alex put his hand along the side of his dog’s face, and at the sound of Alex’s voice, at the feel of his touch, Bo opened his eyes and looked straight at him. He tried to lift his head, but this time he could only bring it an inch off the stretcher.
One of the medics was getting an IV into him, but he could hear the two guys whispering and he straightened, his voice stern. “He’s gonna make it, right?”
The medics swapped a look, and it made Alex want to scream. The medic at the foot of the stretcher shrugged. “We’re taking him to the vet hospital in Calabasas. We’ll do everything we can.”
Alex took hold of the guy’s arm. “He’s going to be okay. He would’ve bled out by now if the bullet had gotten him somewhere bad.”
The other paramedic started pushing the stretcher. “We need to go. You coming with us?”
Suddenly, Alex was torn again. The guy who had shot Bo was still up there, still scrambling around in the fire without his glasses. The SWAT deputies were right about the danger of going back up the hill. But what if the guy escaped? He’d walk the streets again until they found a new meeting place and another few members. Next time the wind blew, they’d be setting fires to some other development. Willing to kill people all for the sake of some sick radical environmentalism. Or the guy might die in the fire, and Alex would have to live with that on his conscience, knowing that he’d left the man on the side of the road in his haste to get Clay and Bo to safety.
The ambulance with Clay inside pulled away, its sirens adding to the sound of the relentless wind and the raging fire on the other side of the hill. Alex could feel the urgency again, feel it pushing him back to his truck. Bo would be okay. They would get him to the hospital and take out the bullet, stitch him up, and give him some fluids. He had to be okay. Alex walked alongside the stretcher and watched as they moved it into the back of the ambulance. He crawled up inside and sat as close to Bo as he could, but again Bo’s eyes were closed.
Tuesday Morning Collection, The: One Tuesday Morning, Beyond Tuesday Morning, Remember Tuesday Morning Page 90
