Ethan brought his gun hand up to the side of his head and pounded on his ear.
“Get out of my head!” he shouted. “Get out, get out, get…out!”
For a moment Thomas thought the man was going to shoot himself in the head, but it didn’t happen.
“Ethan!” Thomas shouted. He wanted to be heard over his mother’s voice, which Ethan was obviously still hearing. “Let the girl go.” Thomas pointed his gun, but Ethan was holding the girl high, and she was blocking his torso. Thomas had two targets—Ethan’s legs. He could have tried for a head shot, but the girl’s head was partially blocking that as well. If he tried, he might end up killing the little girl.
“Ethan! Put her down!”
There was no doubt in Thomas’s mind that he was going to take a shot. He kept trying to get Ethan to let the girl go, but either way it was going to end here. Ethan Langer was not going to get off this street alive. If he didn’t kill him, how would he ever explain that to his pa?
“Goddamn it!” Ethan shouted. He pointed his gun at Thomas. “You wanna kill this little girl? You go ahead and take the shot. What’re ya, afraid?”
In the end, Thomas took the shot not to save the little girl’s life, but to save his own. Ethan had his gun pointed at Thomas and was obviously ready to pull the trigger. Thomas had no intention of just standing there and letting the man kill him. He’d already killed too many members of the Shaye family.
Thomas lowered the barrel of his gun and fired. His bullet hit Ethan in the right shin, completely shattering the bone. There was an explosion of blood, soaking the dirt beneath Ethan’s feet. The outlaw howled in pain and released the little girl. He fell to the ground, grabbing for his shin, dropping his gun. The girl ran toward Thomas, her arms outstretched.
Thomas dropped to one knee and caught her in his arms.
“Are you all right, sweetheart?” he asked. He held her at arm’s length and looked her over. She seemed unharmed.
She nodded. He thought she must be a brave little girl, because she wasn’t crying. She grabbed him, though, and hugged him tightly, and he hugged her back for a few moments before holding her at arm’s length once again.
“You go and wait for me over there by that building,” he told her, “and then I’ll take you to your mother. Okay? I promise. Just stay there and wait.”
Reluctantly, the girl left the safe haven of Thomas’s arms and went to wait for him.
Thomas got to his feet and walked to where Ethan was rolling around on the ground, both hands bloody from his leg.
“You crippled me, damn it!” the outlaw shouted. “You sonofabitch, you crippled me.”
His gun was lying in the street, so Thomas gave it a good kick and sent it skittering away. Then he pointed his gun at Ethan’s head.
Ethan glared up at him, both hands wrapped around his shattered leg, and said, “Do it! Do it, goddamn it!”
Thomas’s finger tightened on the trigger. This was what it all came down to.
“Go head, put me out of my misery,” Ethan said. “She’s never gonna stop, she’ll never leave me alone, will she?”
“No,” Thomas said, “she won’t.”
“Then kill me, damn it.”
Thomas was a hair from pulling the trigger when he suddenly lowered the gun. He fired once more, shattering the other leg. Ethan screamed.
“What are you doin’?” Ethan cried out.
“You’re goin’ to jail, Ethan,” Thomas said. “You’re goin’ to Huntsville. There, as a cripple, you’ll be fair game for anyone who wants to have at you, and my mother will be in your head all your waking and sleeping hours.” Thomas holstered his weapon. “Why would I want to save you from that?”
Beyond Ethan, Thomas could see policemen rushing toward them. He turned and walked back to the little girl, leaving Ethan for them to handle. He was going to take the little girl back to her mother, and care for his brother.
“Ya can’t kill me because you’re yella!” Ethan was shouting at Thomas. “Yer yella, like your brother! Come back here and kill me! Come back here….”
76
Dan Shaye, Thomas Shaye, and James Shaye stood at Matthew’s gravesite. Matthew was being buried right next to his mother. Townsfolk were once again gathered around the men.
It was a week later and Ethan Langer was in custody. He had not yet been sentenced, but he would be, and he’d spend a lot of time—the rest of his life, probably—in Huntsville Prison. Before he died, the voice in his head would probably drive him crazy. This was a concept Thomas had been able to embrace, but he had not yet been able to convince his father. The older Shaye was still upset that Ethan Langer remained alive.
Thomas had not had time to leave Oklahoma City with his brother’s body before Shaye and James met him there. Shaye had decided, after killing Aaron Langer, the same thing Thomas had decided—that Ethan would go to his other brother, Father Vincent. He had retrieved James from the campsite he’d left him at and taken him to the nearest town, where a doctor treated him. He then put him in a buckboard to transport him to Oklahoma City.
When they arrived, they went directly to the church, where they found Father Vincent. He told them what had happened and that they could find Thomas in a nearby hotel. Stunned into silence, Shaye drove the buckboard to the hotel and helped James down from the back of it. They went inside and asked for Thomas’s room number.
Shaye left James in the lobby, visibly shaken, seated on a sofa, while he went up to Thomas’s room. His oldest son opened the door to his knock and fell into his arms, sobbing.
“I’m sorry, Pa,” he said, “I’m s-so sorry….”
Shaye hugged his son tightly and said, “It’s not your fault, Thomas. If it’s anybody’s fault, it’s mine. I should never have brought you boys along.”
Thomas cried himself out, since he had not been able to do so until then. Shaye held his son with unrestrained relief that he, at least, was alive and unhurt.
“Come on,” Shaye said, patting Thomas on the back consolingly, “James is downstairs. He couldn’t come up because he got shot in the hip. You see? His getting shot was my fault too.”
“No, Pa,” Thomas said. “We all wanted to come with you. Ma’s dead, and Matthew’s dead, and the only one to blame is Ethan Langer.”
“Well…and he’s dead, right?” Shaye asked. “You killed him?” Father Vincent had not told Shaye the entire story.
“No, Pa.” Thomas drew away from his father’s embrace and set himself for Shaye’s anger. He hung his head and waited for it.
“What?”
“I-I didn’t kill him.”
“Why not?”
“I shot him in the legs….” He explained how Ethan Langer was hiding behind a little girl, and how he had taken the only shot he had. How he’d shot Ethan in both legs in order to leave him a cripple, and he explained about the voices in the man’s head.
“But after you shot him, and he let the little girl go, why didn’t you kill him?” Shaye asked, confused. “You know that was the whole point—to kill him. If you didn’t kill him, your brother died for nothing. Your mother’s death goes unavenged.”
“Pa, let me explain—” Thomas begged.
“Come downstairs,” Shaye said. “You can explain it to your brother at the same time. I’m sure he’ll want to hear it too.”
Shaye turned and walked stiffly away from Thomas. He was feeling many things—shock, dismay, anger, and confusion. Thomas closed the door of his room and followed his father to the lobby.
After he explained his decision to his brother and his father, Thomas took them to the undertaker’s, where Matthew was waiting. They went in to see him together, but after a few moments Shaye said, “Would you boys leave me alone with your brother, please?”