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"Will?" Dalton says in a low voice. "Don't."
"He's your friend?" Jacob says.
Anders nods. "Deputy, friend, sure. So point that gun over--"
"Friend, girl, everyone but me," Jacob says to Dalton. "You stay away from me for them. For strangers."
"No, no, no," Anders says. "It's not like that. We work together. Eric and Casey and--"
"You stay with them." Jacob spits the words. "You left me. For them. For strangers."
I see his finger move on the trigger. And I run. I don't shoot. I can't shoot. They're too close together and there isn't enough light. So I run, making as much noise as I can, certain that Jacob will hear and stop. I see a blur of motion, and I'm moving too fast to realize what it is until I hear the shot, and then I see that Anders has launched himself--not at Jacob but in front of Dalton.
I hear the shot, and I see Anders, and in my head I hear myself screaming, but I don't say a word. I just keep running, toward Jacob now as he stands there, and I dimly see them both on the ground--Anders and Dalton--and I see blood blossoming on Anders's shirt, and I see Jacob and that gun, still pointed at them.
"Drop it!" I say as I burst into the clearing, my weapon trained on Jacob. "Lower that gun right now or I swear I'll shoot."
He lowers it.
"Drop it or--"
It falls from his hand, and he says, "Eric?" and totters there, and when I run over and take the gun, I see his face, the shock on it as he stares at his brother, on the ground, under Anders.
"Eric?" he says again.
I grab Jacob's hands and pull them behind his back and bind them with the cable tie. He doesn't resist, doesn't seem to notice. I bind him, and I shove him aside so hard he falls as I race over to Dalton. Anders is still on top of him.
Anders has been shot. And I don't care.
No, that's wrong. I do care. I just don't want to.
My impulse is to shove Anders off to get to Dalton, but I can't manage that. I don't need to. I can see Dalton
's wound--it's a bullet to the top of his shoulder, and he says, "I'm okay, Casey. It's Will. Help Will."
He's been saying that for a while. I just haven't paid attention. He'd say that if he had a bullet through his heart.
Don't mind me. Help the other person.
Except the other person betrayed him. Isn't worthy of his attention. Yet that other person just saved his life. Threw himself in front of a bullet, and no matter how hard Anders might have protested his loyalty to Dalton, this proves it, and I cannot argue with that.
I cut Anders' cable ties and check his wound. It's a through-and-through shot to the chest bypassing his heart. He's fading into shock, and I pull him back by saying, "What can I do?"
"I've got it," Dalton says as he heaves himself up, face contorting with the pain.
"Sit down," I say. "You'll only hurt yourself more and--"
"It's my shoulder, Casey. Not my spine. I've got Will. You call Beth."
I stop. "Beth..."
He grips my shoulder, hard, peering down at me as if I'm the one going into shock.
I shake him off. "I'm fine. Where's the--?"
He pulls the radio from Anders's jacket and slaps it into my hand and then kneels beside the wounded man.
"Will? It's Eric. I'm going to tell you where you've been shot, and you're going to tell me how to help you. Got it?"
