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“Maybe you should have,” he answered. “Then I wouldn’t have hanged your papa. Of course, all he had to do was tell me where you were and I’d have spared his life.” Mad Dog took a step closer. “But he wouldn’t. Said he rather die than have me touch you.”
A tremendous buzzing noise sounded in her ears. All the rage she’d kept bottled inside wanted out. Mad Dog was the reason she’d never been allowed to leave the mountains; even when Smitty had grown sick, needed medicine, she’d had to sneak into town wearing his old clothes to buy what was needed. Her hand slid into her pocket, and the cold steel felt as hot as flames.
Maddie was about to pull out the gun when a shout rang out behind her.
“You there! Get away from her!”
Fear rippled her spine, and when a squawk sounded, proving Jack was approaching, Maddie spun around to shout a warning. A hand grabbed her, pulling her backward.
She battled against his hold, but Mad Dog managed to wrap a thick arm all the way around both of her arms and waist. Brandishing a gun in his other hand, he shouted, “Stay there, old man, or I’ll shoot you and her.”
Maddie kicked and squirmed, but his hold was like an iron chain. Thrashing, throwing her head back to connect with Mad Dog was useless. He kept his legs apart, too, so she couldn’t connect with a knee.
Jack was still approaching, and over his head Homer set his wings to dive.
“Stop, Jack!” she screamed. “He’ll shoot!”
Another shout drowned hers. It was more of a growl, causing Mad Dog to spin toward the hill. Tim ran toward them so fast trees seemed to be moving with him. He was shouting, too, for Mad Dog to let her loose.
Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. Mad Dog spun forward again and fired twice. Maddie screamed as Jack went down and Homer fell from the sky.
The next instant, Mad Dog spun again and fired toward Tim.
Fury like she’d never known unleashed itself. Every muscle burned as she twisted and kicked. Mad Dog’s grip slipped slightly, and she went wild. His gun went off again, but Tim kept barreling toward them and Maddie thrashed harder.
Her freedom came so quickly she fell, but leaped to her feet, gun in hand. All her fears were replaced by pure hatred. Outraged, she seethed, “Drop it, Mad Dog.”
He paused momentarily, his beady eyes startled.
“You know I hit what I aim at.” She leveled her gun purposely. “And I aim low.”
His sarcastic laugh was the last straw. She fired.
Mad Dog went down, screeching. His gun landed near her feet and Maddie scrambled forward to kick it away.
“Untie me!”
Maddie spun to where Tim ran toward her, with a tree tied to his back, complete with roots holding clumps of dirt.
“They knocked me in the noggin and tied me to the tree,” he said, arriving at her side and spinning around. “Untie me so I can take care of him. You go see to Jack.”
The fury inside her turned into pain, and she glanced down the riverbank. Jack and Homer. Their bodies. Lying lifeless. Holding the tiny bits of composure left inside her, she asked, “Who hit you?”
“Elwood and Butch,” Tim answered over his shoulder. “I knocked them both out.” He grinned. “With the tree. They should have chosen a bigger one. With all this rain the roots let loose with no more than one good pull.”
Her fingers shook and she dropped her gun in her pocket to work the rope. It still wasn’t loose when Tim shouted, “Hurry, Maddie, he’s getting away!”
As if he was half snake, Mad Dog slithered into the bushes. She grabbed her gun and fired again.
“Untie me!” Tim shouted. “I’ll get him!”
Torn between firing again and undoing the ropes, she chose the ropes when she couldn’t see anything moving in the bushes.
“Hurry,” Tim shouted. “Hurry.”
The rope finally let loose and Tim leaned back so the tree tumbled away from them. “Go see to Jack,” he said, grabbing Mad Dog’s gun off the ground. “I’ll get him.”
Other shouts sounded as a crowd of men ran around the bend.
Tim starting barking orders at them and she turned, running toward the prone bodies of Jack and Homer.
Chapter Thirteen
Every step she took sent her heart lower, and tears stole a good portion of her vision. Yet, she could still see Jack and the red-feathered mass lying next to him. She’d never had friends like them.
