Cut and Run 2 - Sticks and Stones

Zane contort in pain. Crouching further into his hiding place, Ty tried to slow his racing heart and think clearly. It had taken more discipline than he’d expected to restrain himself when he’d seen the man in the red jacket pistolwhip his partner and send him crashing to the ground.
    But he had to be careful. He had to focus, despite his heart beating in his throat and his fingers shaking with adrenaline and absolute terror. Three of the people he cared for most in the world were in danger, and there was very little he could do about it that wouldn’t involve bloodshed. The probability that at least one of them was going to get badly hurt was too high for Ty’s liking. There had to be some way to do this without the guns, without violence.
    He just wasn’t seeing it.
    He wasn’t even seeing a way with violence that didn’t end up with at least one of the three prisoners dead or dying by the end of the shootout. He wasn’t even sure that he could get off three accurate shots—and they would have to be kill shots—fast enough to keep one of the treasure hunters from firing off one of those shotguns. It was too much of a risk to take, even if Ty didn’t have serious issues with killing random assholes in the mountains. He’d offered covering fire when he thought Zane might have a chance to fight his way out. Now he regretted not taking the one kill shot he’d had.
    Ty looked around the quiet woods with a hint of desperation. He was alone now, outgunned and out of options. There had to be another way.

    A FTER the second kick, Zane jerked, and his eyes snapped open. Before he could move, though, a shotgun barrel appeared in his line of vision—lined up right between his eyes. He blinked up at it and remained still and silent, his hands limp at his sides. This was unfortunately a more common occurrence in his past experiences than he would have liked. Then the pain came crashing in. His face burned like it was on fire, emanating from the right side but causing his entire head to ache. It was nearly overwhelming, and he had to close his eyes and swallow hard as the nausea welled up and the agony washed through him.
    He distantly heard men talking, and he knew on some level what must have happened. He shifted a little where he lay in the dirt, hissing slightly as his head protested angrily. He tried to carefully shift his jaw, but damn, it hurt. At least it didn’t slide, which meant it wasn’t broken. Thank God for small miracles.
    Redjacket was standing over him, pacing, looking at Earl in annoyance. Zane rolled slightly to his side both to quell the nausea and to check on Earl and Deuce. He relaxed a tiny bit when he saw them both kneeling, looking relatively whole and unharmed even though they were heavily bound with rope and bungee cords.
    “What’s his name?” Redjacket demanded of Earl. Earl narrowed his eyes and looked at Zane. “The feller out in the woods,” Redjacket snarled. “What’s his name?”
    Momentary relief washed through Zane when he heard the words. That meant Ty was still free. They still had a chance.
    Earl swallowed hard but remained silent. He looked sideways at Deuce, who was watching him with wide eyes. Earl shook his head and looked back at Redjacket. Earflaps mumbled in annoyance and nudged at Zane’s shoulder with the end of his shotgun. Zane jerked and groaned, rocking more to one side and curling up. If they thought he was hurt enough, they wouldn’t consider him any more of a threat, and they might not tie him up.
    He peered up at Redjacket, whose face was surprisingly composed as he and Earl stared at each other. Zane wondered what was going through his mind. He suspected whatever it was wouldn’t be good for them.
    “One more time, old timer,” Redjacket threatened Earl.
    “I don’t know,” Earl answered defiantly. “He ain’t one of ours,” he claimed steadily.
    Earflaps kicked Zane in the hip again. “Maybe this ’un’ll talk now that he’s hurtin’.” A choked groan escaped Zane as he rolled away from the man’s foot.
    Redjacket raised an eyebrow at Earl, waiting for him to say more. Earl’s jaw tightened as he nodded at Zane, who was fully sprawled on his side now. “He’s my oldest son,” he told Redjacket calmly. “The other man, we came across him on the mountain this morning. Crazy son of a bitch. We don’t know him,” he claimed firmly. Redjacket turned to look down at Zane with narrowed eyes.
    Zane very slowly raised a hand to