Get up, Ethan demanded of himself as the blood spilled hot down his side, get up, and get back.
Down to the other most basic instinct now, down to flight. The fight had come and now it had gone; he knew where the threat was and knew that he had to retreat from it and knew that only if he kept Patrick with him did he have a chance.
There was just one problem with that: Ethan had run out of mountain.
It was only when he tried to drag himself upright the second time that he realized how close to the edge he was and that to retreat was to fall, and fall a long way. He ducked his head to keep it pressed against Patrick’s. He had to dance his way toward death, cheek to cheek; there was no other way to keep the bullets at bay.
“Ethan.”
Jack Blackwell’s voice came out of the dark rocks, firm and impossibly steady. Unfazed.
“Put him down, and we can go on about our business here. I make it very quick, or very slow. You’re making the choice for me right now. You’re choosing to go slow, and that’s so foolish.”
Ethan was struggling to keep his head pressed against Patrick’s, and it limited his vision, but he could see Jack Blackwell’s silhouette. He’d risen and stood tall against the shadows, a solitary interruption against that band of pink sunrise. He had the gun pointed at Ethan but was unhurried as he advanced, and that was fine for Jack, because he had no need to hurry, he had the gun and time and space, and Ethan had none of those things, he had only the fall waiting behind him.
So he took it, and took Patrick Blackwell with him.
Part Four: Bury Them High
37
Tango was slowing but still steady when they reached the burnout. Allison and Jamie had entered the mountains and two sides of the world were lit with two different deadly lights. Up above them, lightning was working on the mountaintops. Below, to their right, the forest fire glowed in the woods just south of Silver Gate. The wind fed it and drove acrid smoke toward them. Allison could also see the lights of a large campsite-that would be the firefighter base. There they’d have the ground crews and pump trucks and all those who were prepared to defend Silver Gate and Cooke City from a threat that had arrived here because of the two women who now rode silently into the hills like ghosts.
“There will be police down there,” Allison said. “I think. Maybe not. Maybe just the firefighters. But they still might be able to help.”
“No,” Jamie Bennett said.
Allison pulled back on the reins and brought Tango in. He seemed grateful for the stop. She eyed his foreleg and waited to see if he would try to shift away from it. He stayed balanced.
“I’m sorry,” Jamie said. “But I told you why. I thought you understood-”
“I do.”
Yes, she understood. You whispered the wrong word in the wrong ear-hell, maybe even the right ear-and two wolves arrived at your door in the night. Lives were lost, good men were burned on mountainsides, boys vanished. There were plenty of reasons that there was no trust left in Jamie Bennett’s world. She was, after all, part of the system that was supposed to be able to keep people safe. And she hadn’t been able to do it for her own son. Not against those two.
So how are we supposed to do it, Allison thought, if the best she could do led to this?
“You don’t have to come,” Jamie said, as if Allison had voiced her doubts aloud. “You can go down to them. All I’m asking is that you let me go on.”
They were silent, Allison thinking and letting the horse rest and watching the fire below and the lightning above. She nudged Tango back into motion. He started slow.
“How fast can it burn?” Jamie Bennett asked. She was turned in the saddle, watching the flames. She didn’t need to be told to hold tight anymore-once the fire had come into view, her grip on Allison became painful. Each of Tango’s steps hurt Allison as well, jarring her. Allison tried to distract herself by watching that foreleg, studying it for any sign of weakness. His pace wasn’t quick, but each step was firm and confident.
“I’m not sure,” Allison said. “But it looks like it went through here pretty fast.”
“So we’re safe here. It won’t come back, even if the wind shifts?”
“It doesn’t have fuel here. Where we’re going, it does.” She pointed into the shadowed tree line of untouched timber above where the flames were burning now.
“Jace will be up there?”
“I have no idea, Jamie. The trail he was told to take out of these mountains in an emergency is up there. Whether he…” She caught herself before saying Whether he made it and instead said, “Whether he decided to take it, I don’t know.”
Jamie didn’t say anything to that, and so they rode on in silence, and Allison tried to imagine where Ethan might be. If he’d started at Pilot Creek, then he’d be well into the mountains now, up at the elevation where the lightning was hunting for fools.
Her eyes left the peaks when Tango balked. It was the first disruption she’d felt in his stride, and she was sure it was his leg. When she looked down, though, she saw all four feet planted firmly on the ground. He was trying to back up. Her mind went to snakes then, wondering if he’d somehow seen a diamondback in the darkness, even though they were never up at this altitude, but then she saw the faint cloud that his hooves were raising.
Fire had passed this way, and not all that long ago. Recently enough that the ashes were still warm.
She coaxed him forward, watching to see if it was too hot, if it hurt him or frightened him. There was no sign of that, even though there were glimmers of crimson amid the gray.
“This is where it was yesterday,” she said. “We’ll get up on the rocks above and follow the ridgeline.”
She winced when Tango moved off the trail and into the rocks. The footing here was much more treacherous.
He didn’t break stride, though, just kept climbing. Below them, charred trees lined the slopes like fallen soldiers, and the wounded among them cried out in pops and snaps as smoldering flames found pockets to feed on. Each step raised ashes that were promptly swept back by the wind.
“What if Jace was here?” Jamie said. “When the fire passed through? Could he have been here?”
Maybe, Allison thought, and if he was, then we’ll ride over his bones and not much else, but she said, “He couldn’t have made it this far that fast. Not even if he just dropped the pack and ran. If he took this trail, he should be on his way down it now.” She paused and then added, “You keep your hand close to your gun, all right?”
“You don’t have to come with me,” Jamie said. “You don’t have to go any higher. I’ll be fine with the horse.”
“You don’t have any idea where you’re going.”
“Tell me, then. Just tell me where to go. I’m not going to make you stay with me.”
“I want to be there,” Allison said, “when you see your son.”
And, oh, how she did. How she wanted to bring about that reunion. As they went on up the mountain and through the smoke, Tango beginning to labor beneath them, Allison became certain that she was going to bring about a reunion, at least. Maybe it would be between Jamie and Jace, mother and child.
Maybe between herself and the brothers of blood and smoke.
Jace dropped to his hands and knees when he heard the gunshot. For an instant he waited on the impact, as if the bullet were taking its time reaching him, but there was none, and then he waited for the next shot.