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Fighting an almost overpowering impulse to run to her and fold her in his arms, he remained where he was. If someone was following her, alerting that person to the presence of other potential foes could be dangerous.
Hopefully, Jack had also recognized her and would hold his ground until she got close.
As she drew near, Marc searched the path behind her.
Clear.
The instant she passed him, he took cover behind the tree and spoke softly. “Bri—it’s Marc.”
She gasped. Faltered. Swung around, arms stretched out in front of her, a pistol clasped in both hands and pointed in his general vicinity.
“I’m here too, Bri. Jack.”
She swiveled his direction, her gun unwavering.
Then she hiccupped a sob and lowered the gun.
Marc was beside her in a heartbeat.
Jack wasn’t far behind.
“We c-can’t stay here. She m-may be following.”
Bri swayed, and Marc grasped her upper arms, absorbing the tremors that coursed through her body. Despite the darkness, her puffy face and swollen-shut eye registered.
His gut clenched.
“We have to get her out of here. She needs medical attention.” He directed the comment to Jack, even as he took Bri’s arm and urged her forward.
Jack fell in behind them, keeping tabs on the path that led into the woods. “Are you talking about Alison, Bri?”
“Yes. I sh-shot her and left her in the b-bunker, but I don’t know how badly she’s hurt. She could have come after m-me.”
“Where’s Holmes?”
“In the bunker too. He’s d-dead.”
“Let’s hold off on the questions until we get out of here.” Marc picked up the pace, keeping his arm around Bri, propelling her forward, while Jack took up the rear.
The walk out seemed far longer than the race in, but finally the parking area came into view.
Thank you, God!
Once they emerged onto the lot, Marc left Jack to brief the conservation agent and the officers who’d arrived at the scene while he escorted Bri to the waiting paramedics.
Not until she was secured behind the shelter of severalvehicles and the paramedics put a light on her did the extent of the damage register.
He almost lost the late lunch he’d eaten.
In addition to the injured eye, the entire side of her face was bruised, her nose was puffy, and her jacket was covered with blood.
But her grip on his hand was strong, and she didn’t seem inclined to relinquish her hold.
Fine by him.
Marc stayed with her as the paramedics treated her injuries, leaving Jack to deal with law enforcement coordination. This wasn’t ATF jurisdiction, anyway, and Bri’s brother was more than capable.
When Bri declined hospital transport, Marc squeezed her hand. If she had any idea how she looked, she’d rethink that. “You may want to reconsider. The visible injuries aren’t pretty, and there could be others we can’t see.”
