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No.
Another hour passed. Thankfully, a light breeze blew across the field, keeping the humidity at a tolerable level.
He’d been looking at the pigpen when something moved in his peripheral vision.
Turning left toward the barn, he lifted his night vision goggles and spotted the green silhouette of a man near the rear of the barn. He was hunched over, carrying something, shaking it as he worked his way around to the front corner.
A branch snapped in the opposite direction from the barn.
Gerard started to turn his goggles in that direction but stopped when a flame ignited in the hands of the figure by the barn.
He’d lit a match.
As quickly as the flame ignited, the breeze extinguished it. Holy shit. The thing he’d been shaking had been a gas can.
“Fuck!” Gerard dropped the goggles and lunged to his feet.
Footsteps sounded to Gerard’s right as if something, or someone, was moving quickly through the woods. He spun, holding his gun out in front of him. He couldn’t see into the shadows. Whoever was out there was beating a hasty retreat.
He didn’t have time to worry about whoever was moving away. Not when the barn was about to go up in flames. He ran toward the barn but wouldn’t make it there in time to stop the man from setting it aflame.
The arsonist lit another match. Before he could throw it on the gasoline, a shot rang out.
The man staggered backward.
Still running, Gerard held his breath as the match fell from the man’s fingers. The flame disappeared before it hit the ground.
Gerard didn’t slow, running straight for the corner of the house where he’d left Bernie, kicking himself for leaving her alone. What the hell kind of protector was he if he wasn’t protecting his charge?
He was several yards from her position, frantically scanning the shadows for any sign of her. “Bernie,” he called out as he slowed to a stop.
Her head popped out of the shadows. “Gerard, did you get him?”
He stared down at her. “Get him?”
“You fired a shot,” she said.
“No. I didn’t,” he said and dove into the bush beside her. “It wasn’t you?”
She shook her head. “No. I saw movement to the right of the barn, but I didn’t have a clear shot and wasn’t going to shoot in case it was Dom or one of the dark goats. If you didn’t shoot, who did?”
“I don’t know, but whoever did nailed a guy on the far side of the barn before he could burn it down.”
“What?” Bernie started to rise.
“I need you to stay here and dial 911. Get the sheriff and an ambulance,” he said. “I’m going to check it out.”
She grabbed his arm before he could leave the shadows. “Be careful. You still owe me a raincheck for naked cooking.”
“I wouldn’t miss that for anything.” He left the bush and darted across the barnyard and into the shadow of the barn.
Working his way around to the corner, he peeked around the edge.
A man lay on the ground moaning. “Help me.”
Though the guy had almost burned down the barn, Gerard couldn’t let him die. He was the first clue they had as to who was behind the attacks.
He didn’t know if the gunman was still out there, but he had to get to the man and move him to a more protected position.
