Ty shook himself and looked down at the dead man’s body—the man had to have been right behind him, gun up and ready to fire. But Zane had beaten him to it.
Earflaps was so shocked that he hadn’t moved. Zane got to his feet, walked over, and yanked the shotgun out of his hands. “Everyone okay?” Zane asked in a low growl. He hadn’t even turned an eye toward the man he’d just shot down, and he ignored it as everyone stared at him, dumbstruck. Ty didn’t move any more than it took to lower his gun. Deuce sank back to the ground and shook his head without speaking.
Earl looked from Zane to the body and back again. “Nice shot,” he said finally, still breathing hard.
Zane’s dark eyes flickered to the body and back before he tucked the shotgun in the crook of his arm and walked over to crouch next to Deuce, murmuring, setting one hand gently on Deuce’s outstretched leg.
Ty found himself continuing to stare at Zane. Then he realized he was gaping and snapped his mouth closed. He shook his head to dispel the numb feeling, and he forced himself to stand. He spared a glance for Redjacket, who was still unconscious. He’d be out for a few minutes yet.
Ty looked at Earflaps, and he gestured toward the ground with the barrel of his gun. “Face in the dirt,” he ordered in a hoarse voice. The man complied without argument. Ty turned to his father and was surprised to find him looking at him. Ty swallowed hard. “Okay?” he asked.
“Got a rib or two,” his father answered gruffly. “Be fine,” he added as he took the gun in his hand and turned it around to hand it to Ty, grip first.
“That’s Garrett’s,” Ty told him quietly with a nod at his partner. He wondered what his father was thinking. The way Earl was looking at him was the same way Ty imagined he must be looking at Zane. Like he’d never seen him before.
Earl continued to look at him as he turned slightly and offered the gun to Zane. Glancing up from where he was kneeling next to Deuce, Zane took the weapon without comment and shoved it in the back of his waistband. Ty’s gun was still in his left hand, though he’d laid the shotgun down next to Deuce. Ty finally shook off the stupor and moved toward them. “He okay?” he asked as he laid a hand on Zane’s shoulder.
Zane nodded as he finished gripping different spots up and down Deuce’s leg. “Not broken.”
“Doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt,” Deuce muttered, still rubbing at his thigh.
“Man up, Grady,” Zane said with a half-smile, but his tone was gentle.
“Shut up,” all three Grady men mumbled at him.
Zane gave a sharp laugh and shook his head. “Let’s get you on your feet and see how you do,” he said to Deuce. Glancing up, Zane flipped the Smith & Wesson smoothly and offered it to Ty.
Ty met his eyes as he took the gun. He made sure to brush his fingers over Zane’s. “Thank you,” he said without looking away.
Maybe it was his imagination, but he thought Zane’s eyes softened as he nodded. He shifted to slide one arm around Deuce’s back to help him stand. Deuce hissed under his breath. But he was on his feet, standing unaided.
“We’ll go find you a new walking stick,” Earl told him as he looked him up and down.
“I’m gonna need one,” Deuce acknowledged.
Ty was nodding as he looked down at his brother’s bum leg. Not only did he need the stick, the compass embedded in it might have come in handy too. As would the survival rope around its handle. But it was long gone, lost somewhere in the woods.
They would need supplies in order to get home, and they would have to figure out what to do with their two prisoners. He frowned heavily and looked back at the men who’d tried to kill them. “They have ATVs,” he remembered suddenly as he glanced back at his father with a raised eyebrow.
Earl pursed his lips and nodded, looking down at Earflaps. “Where’s your main camp?” he demanded. The man shook his head stubbornly without raising his face from the dirt.
Ty walked to stand behind him and put his boot on the back of his neck, shoving his face into the dirt. He pressed the heel of his boot into the back of the man’s neck, grinding it in retaliation for the beating he’d taken. “We’ll find it ourselves,” he declared as he looked around for what remained of their gear. “We’re gonna need something to tie them up.”
“I cut up all the rope and cords they used on us,” Earl told him, a hint of wry humor actually entering his voice now that the danger had mostly passed.
Zane stood and walked past Redjacket to a satchel left in the dirt. He picked it up and started digging. “Ammunition, salt peter, slicker, bottled water… here we go,” he said, pulling out a roll of nylon rope, still in store packaging. “Aren’t we lucky,” he said drolly.
“It’ll do,” Ty said as he gestured for it. Zane tossed the rope to him, and Ty began unwrapping it as he pondered the various and sundry ways to tie up the two men.
Between the four of them, he was pretty certain they could come up with something.
IT DIDN’T take Ty and Earl long to track the treasure hunters’ trail back to their main camp. They obviously hadn’t been worried about leaving sign; even Zane could follow it. It might as well have been paved with yellow bricks.
Despite the relatively simple task of herding the two men along the trail, Ty was in an incredibly sour mood. He was snapping answers to questions when they were asked and remaining silent otherwise as he walked behind the two prisoners with a shotgun at their backs. Zane glanced at him every now and then, but he had no plans to mention the behavior. Ty had every right to be in a shitty mood—they all did.
Zane briefly wondered if he ought to feel worse than he did about putting down Swizzlestick, but the farther he walked along to the soft purr of the ATV Deuce was riding behind them, the more certain he was that it wasn’t worth the effort to work up remorse over something there was no way in hell he’d ever regret.
“Don’t get clever with me, Ace,” he heard Ty growl to one of the prisoners. The distinctive sound of the action on the shotgun pumping followed the threat.
Zane resisted the urge to look over his shoulder again. The biggest problem they’d had as they made their way over the roughly two miles of trail was keeping their two prisoners in line, and that hadn’t really been much of a problem at all. Ty seemed to be taking some perverse joy in it. But Deuce had a bird’s-eye view and hadn’t objected to anything Ty had done yet, so Zane figured he’d let well enough alone.