Cut and Run 6 - Stars and Stripes

“See if you can find the family, get everyone upstairs.”
    Harrison grabbed him as he was turning away. “Where are you going?”
    “Ty’s out there,” Zane said. He yanked away and ran for the front door.
    When he got to the door he hit the marble, staying low as he peered out. Ty was nowhere to be seen. Only a blood smear on the front steps was left of him.
    “Ty!” Zane called out. Above the commotion he heard his name called in response. He strained his ears, but instead of Ty, he heard the galloping of horses. In the flickering firelight, he caught silhouettes of horses racing into the night; the entire stock of the C and G had fled from a barn as flames licked at its roof.
    Zane’s mind flooded with horror at the sudden outburst of violence. Whoever had been working with Stuart didn’t trust him not to give them away. They were making a break for it tonight.
    Gunfire from the back of the house sounded like it was coming from outside and within. His father was firing back.
    Zane picked up his rifle and crawled out the door, intent on finding Ty. “Where the fuck are you?” Zane muttered. He hurried down the steps, staying low. Blood stained the steps, but not as much as he’d feared. Ty may have been able to get up under his own power and find cover.
    Zane crouched low and skirted the truck parked in front of the steps, heading for the barn. “Grady!”
    “Garrett!”
    Zane skidded to a halt and turned. He finally saw Ty, lying under the truck on his back. Zane dove for it, peering underneath with a relieved laugh. “Are you okay?”
    “Clipped me. I’m bleeding.”
    “Come on, let’s get inside.”
    “I can’t.”
    “Ty, come on, quit screwing around,” Zane said as he reached under the truck to grip Ty’s arm. He pulled, but Ty didn’t budge.
    Ty met his eyes, the hazel looking a sickly gray in the firelight. “My cast is stuck on the undercarriage.”
    “That’s not funny, Ty.”
    “You’re right, Zane, it’s not! Give me your knife.”
    “I don’t have it, it’s in my carry-on bag. Where’s yours?”
    “It’s in an evidence bag!”
    “Goddammit, Ty!” Zane tried tugging at him again, but Ty cried out and shoved at his hand.
    “Go get me a knife!”
    Zane handed him the shotgun and ran for the house. There were more gunshots, and the tiger was somewhere, roaring. He didn’t have time to be confused, he was just reacting and hoping they could sort out the who and the why later. He ran for the kitchen, but almost toppled over his father as he pushed through the door.
    “Dad!”
    “Zane!”
    Zane was shocked to see all the people in the kitchen—at least twenty, some family, some guests of the party. Annie and Beverly huddled together in the banquette, pale and drawn. Harrison held a shotgun, as did at least five other employees of the ranch. Mark was there, a rifle in his hands and blood at his hairline.
    “What are you doing?” Zane asked his dad. “I told you to get upstairs!”
    “If we head up, we’ll be trapped,” Mark said, shouting over the noise.
    “Where’s Sadie?” Annie screamed.
    Zane shook his head, his eyes drawn back to Mark. If Mark wasn’t behind it, then who the hell was? His stomach flipped. A blast sounded from the front of the house.
    “Ty.” Zane grabbed his dad’s arm. “Do you have a knife?”
    Harrison dug in his pocket and handed Zane his pocketknife. He followed Zane to the front door, where they both stopped and watched in horror as flames licked at the bed of the truck parked in the driveway. Glass broke somewhere in the house. Then another window smashed.
    “Molotov cocktails,” Zane said. “They’re going to set fire to the house.”
    “I called the sheriff back. They were already halfway to Austin.”
    “They’ll never get here in time.” He shoved at his dad. “Go get the others, we have to fight back or we’ll be dead. I have to get Ty.”
    “Where is he?”
    “Stuck under the truck.”
    Zane took the steps two at a time and darted around the truck to dive to the gravel at Ty’s side.
    “Truck’s on fire, Zane,” Ty said, sounding urgent but calm.
    “I see that, Ty,” Zane said through gritted teeth. He handed Ty the knife.
    “Watch your six,” Ty said, then disappeared further under the truck. When Zane turned and looked up, a 4x4 was thundering toward them. He raised the shotgun in his hands, knowing the birdshot would do nothing to slow down the truck but hoping to hit the driver. The truck