Cut and Run 2 - Sticks and Stones

due to the cloud cover.
    “So another couple bags would be a good thing, just in case,” Zane surmised, studying the older man.
    Earl was already shaking his head. “Ain’t worth the danger,” he told Zane firmly. He pointed at the wheels of the ATV, which were already sliding dangerously toward the water. “Plus, you and Ty both already been wet for too long,” he added as he pointed at Zane’s soaked jeans. “This water’s coming from the peaks. Go back across another time and you won’t make it before you’re frozen.”
    “Let’s get moving then,” Zane said, looking across the water and steeling himself to cross the frigid expanse. “We’ll have to make do without the rest.”

    T HE five of them sat hunched around a fire they’d all cussed over before getting started. After Zane and Earl had waded across the river with everything they could keep dry, they’d all been shaking so badly it had taken attempts from each of them before Ty had managed to get the matches to work.
    Deuce was thankful they’d been able to keep the blankets and extra clothing. He was pretty sure they would all freeze if they were still wet, because it was getting colder as the sun set. After the trial of crossing the river—and losing the man they’d known only as Redjacket—no one mentioned trying to gear up and get any farther before nightfall. Dinner was slow cooking, mainly because they were all too listless and exhausted to mess with it. But as Deuce warmed a little, the psychiatrist in him began to have a fit.
    So far two men were dead; Zane had shot one and they’d watched one pretty much commit suicide trying to escape justice. Deuce supposed Redjacket could be alive somewhere downstream. In his opinion it was unlikely. So unlikely that they’d elected not to waste time and energy trying to find him. He glanced to Earflaps, sprawled on the ground on the far side of the fire, trussed up and snoring noisily.
    Deuce looked up across the fire at Earl, who sat staring into the flames with a frown set on his face. It didn’t seem the time or the place to address any issues pertaining to his father and Ty, did it? Or was he just terrified of doing it and being in the middle? He shook his head and glanced to the side, where Ty and Zane sat next to one another. Ty was hunched over and rocking slightly, just like he always did when he let his self-control slip a little. And it was probably serving a secondary purpose of keeping him warm.
    It was alternately fascinating and painful, watching Ty and Zane together. They fought and they argued, sometimes cruelly. But Ty had brought Zane up here, hoping Deuce would help him, and Zane had been willing to leap into that river with nothing but dumb luck as a lifeline just on the off chance that he might be able to help Ty. They were a study in extremes, and as much as they denied it, they seemed well matched. After watching Zane take Ty’s face in his hands and lean forward to speak to him—when it had very much looked like he’d been about to kiss him—Deuce suspected they were better matched than they knew themselves. But that wasn’t really a topic Deuce could bring up now, either, not in front of Earl.
    Deuce squeezed his eyes closed and massaged the bridge of his nose, fighting a headache. “So, Ty,” he finally decided on, tired of the tense silence. “That was some distraction ploy you used back in the camp,” he complimented, looking at his brother closely in the flickering light. “How’d you know they wouldn’t shoot you?”
    Ty looked up at him blankly, appearing not to understand. “What?” he asked in confusion. Zane turned his chin, watching Ty with a small frown.
    “Yelling at the assholes with guns,” Deuce provided with a small smile. “Pretending you were losing it.”
    Ty pressed his lips together tightly and then looked back down at the tin plate he held. “Yeah,” he answered flatly.
    Deuce continued to look at him. So, mental breakdown and not a clever ploy, then. That was good to know, at any rate. Just as worrisome were the slight changes on Zane’s face when Deuce glanced at him; the frown went flat, Zane’s eyes narrowed, and then he squeezed them shut for a few seconds before reopening them and focusing on Ty again.
    “You were pretending, right?” Deuce asked Ty.
    Ty looked up and glared at him.
    “He’s a dumbass for doin’ the yellin’,” Earl stated, pulling his blanket tighter around his shoulders.
    Deuce looked