Cut and Run 2 - Sticks and Stones

unfamiliar emotion out on the boys because he didn’t know what else to do with it. He would have to make it right with more than a simple apology. Soon.
    Ty was getting along with everyone’s help on the trail. He was pale, though, and every few minutes, he would simply shiver violently as his body fought the infection spreading through it. It was painful to know he was hurting and not be able to do anything about it. His boy might die up here, and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do but sleep until daybreak.
    His boy might die up here, all because Earl had called him a coward.
    Earl lowered his head, telling himself not to think too hard on it any longer. Not until the danger had passed. Tears wouldn’t cure Ty’s wounds.
    “How’s it feeling?” Deuce asked Ty as he poked at the flames and fed two more small sticks into the fire.
    “Hurts,” Ty grunted. “Feels like my fingers are on fire. Feels like my whole body’s on fire,” he corrected as he leaned slightly to one side against Zane’s conveniently close shoulder.
    “We could try cleaning it again,” Deuce suggested doubtfully. His tone of voice said he knew it wouldn’t do any good, and he knew Ty would turn down the offer.
    “Hell, no,” Ty muttered.
    “We should keep going,” Deuce said as he turned to meet Earl’s eyes, asking for permission to do so. “Me and Ty, we should keep going and—”
    “You can’t watch the trail and me at the same time,” Ty broke in.
    “We still have the one flashlight, we could make ten miles by morning,” Deuce argued.
    “We’re safer together,” Zane ground out.
    “He’s dying, Zane. We should be going as fast as possible,” Deuce insisted.
    “I can’t make that pace,” Ty pointed out derisively. “I can barely walk a straight line.”
    Deuce opened his mouth to respond, but Earl held up his hand and closed his eyes. Both of his sons snapped their mouths shut and lowered their heads, the argument ending before it could get in full swing.
    “We stay together,” Earl ordered in a gruff voice. “We head out at first light. Not before. Ty’s right,” he said pointedly as he looked at Deuce. “He’s too weak to be trusted on a dangerous trail,” he said as he turned his eyes to Ty. Ty visibly flinched at his words, lowering his head. Zane watched his partner and then looked up to stare at Earl through the firelight.
    “Get some sleep,” Earl continued, not commenting on the reactions. He could feel the unspoken accusations in Zane’s eyes. But despite what Zane Garrett might think, Earl knew his own son and how to handle him. Ty would walk through Hell and back to prove he could do something he wasn’t supposed to be able to do. Earl was determined to keep him walking no matter how much it hurt both of them. “Four hours to daylight,” he said roughly. He didn’t look at Zane or his sons again, instead stretching out on the bedroll with his back to the fire.
    He didn’t want them to see the tears that threatened in his eyes.

    W HEN Deuce awoke to the sound of chirping birds, his first thought was to chuck a rock at them. When he talked himself out of that, his mind turned to his brother, and he rolled over with a groan to check on Ty. He and Zane had placed Ty between them the night before, hoping to keep him warm during the chilly night.
    Ty had thrashed and grumbled almost the entire night, fighting the fever and the periodic shivers that ran through him. But he was resting peacefully now, curled against Zane’s left side as if he were cold. Zane’s arm was wrapped around him, holding him close and keeping him warm. It would almost have been sweet under other circumstances, but Ty was too still. A bolt of cold fear shot through Deuce as he reached out to touch him.
    He calmed when Ty mumbled at him and tried to bury his head under Zane. He was hot to the touch and far too pale, but he was still breathing, and that was all Deuce could ask for this morning.
    “Ty, wake up,” Deuce said as he sat up and shook Ty’s arm. Ty groaned and rolled, burrowing further against Zane, who opened his eyes to look at Deuce blearily. “Come on, G-Man,” Deuce grunted as he shook his brother harder.
    Ty awoke with a jerk and a gasp. He tried to sit up and reach for a knife Deuce knew he used to keep under his pillow, but the pillow wasn’t there, and neither was the knife. He looked around wildly for a brief moment, obviously trying to figure out where he was, why his hand was