Threat of Darkness(63)

 “What the…” His rifle barrel drew an arc leading to the Southerland family. They had huddled together in a corner while Sam had been attempting to go to John’s aid.

 The abductor kept his weapon trained on the captives as he knelt beside his cohort. “What happened? Did they jump you?”

 “No,” the wounded man rasped. “He’s got…”

 Samantha burst into a series of loud laments, trying to keep the injured man from revealing the full truth.

 “See what you’ve done?” she screeched. “Now what? Huh? This man needs medical attention. Do something! Hurry!”

 “You’re a nurse. Get over here and take care of him.”

 “Not him!” she shouted, pointing to John. “Him!”

 Behind her, she saw Ben Southerland make a subtle shift in his position. There was still one gun the kidnappers didn’t know about; one weapon she might be able to count on in a fight. That wasn’t much but it was better than nothing.

 “I don’t care what happens to anybody else,” the armed man said flatly. “Take care of my brother.”

 “Your brother?”

 “Yeah. He ain’t too bright but he’s kin. Now move.”

 “I’ll need bandages and disinfectant and…”

 The flash of feral anger in the man’s eyes told her she’d pushed him too far. Cautiously getting to her feet, she raised her hands. “Okay, okay. I’m coming.”

 The older sibling picked up the other’s pistol, tucked it into his belt next to the one he’d just taken from John, and stood back to give her room to work.

 Samantha knelt next to her patient as he gave a shudder. His full exhalation strongly hinted that any efforts at this point, no matter how heroic, would be futile. Nevertheless, she checked for a carotid pulse. There was none.

 So, what would the survivor do when he realized his brother had passed away? she wondered silently. How long could she stall? How was she going to make him think there was still a chance of recovery?

 At best, she figured she might be able to fool everybody for a couple more minutes.

 She leaned over the dead man and pretended to be staunching the flow of blood from his shoulder wound so she could peek sideways at the other prisoners.

 Lindy and Danny were still crouched in the corner, locked in a tight embrace. Ben, however, had worked his way off to one side. Was he planning to fire again? Did he know what he was doing? His first shot had gone wild and if it hadn’t been for John’s timely arrival they might all have been killed as a result of Ben’s feeble attempt at retribution.

 “John. Wake up,” she whispered.

 Although he lay only a few feet from her, he made no response. The only movement that gave her hope was the steady rise and fall of his back as he breathed. As long as that continued it would help her believe that he’d survive.

 “Forget him,” the armed man ordered. “How is my brother doing? He’s not moanin’ like he was.”

 “He’s resting,” Samantha said. She tried to keep her tone even and hide her fear. Apparently, she was not successful because the remaining gunman leaned over her to get a better look.

 She heard him stifle a sob. Then, he staggered backward. “He’s dead.”

 “I’m so sorry,” she said, meaning every word. “The bullet struck him in a main artery in his shoulder. There was nothing anyone could have done. Not without an immediate transfusion, and even then…”

 “Shut up!” He rubbed his eyes using his free hand and waved the rifle erratically with the other. “One of you killed him. I don’t care who it was. You’re all responsible so you’re all going to die.”

 He pointed the gun at the mother and son cowering in the corner.

 Samantha had been preparing to get to her feet. She faltered, dizzy, and wondered if she might faint for the first time in her life.

 She nearly did so when he shouted, “Starting with the brat.”





SEVENTEEN

What happened next was over in a handful of heartbeats.

 Samantha summoned her courage and poised to launch herself toward the gunman. She didn’t know what her actual intent was, she simply knew she had to do something to try to protect that child.

 The bereaved kidnapper kept swiping wildly at his tear-filled eyes, apparently attempting to clear his vision so he could better pinpoint his targets.

 John stirred and moaned at just the right time to offer a distraction.

 The kidnapper whirled and braced himself for an attack, wasting no time once he realized that that particular adversary was still unconscious.