KnockOut

about you?” She was grinning at him, teeth whiter than his shirt had been before the explosion.
    “I’m fine, but you’re hurt.”
    “Just a little cut. My hair will soak it up. You’re okay?”
    He consulted his body parts, nodded. “Do I look as bad as you do?”
    “Yeah, but you know, kind of black-ops sexy.”
    He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed at the cut.
    It was indeed as shallow as he’d thought, nothing much really, thank you, God. He realized he’d been shaking. It had been too close, simply too close, and here she was cracking a joke. He grabbed her and pulled her hard against him on the ground, pressing her into his shoulder.
    “I’m all right. Come on, Dillon, I don’t want to, but we have to check to see if those guys are still in the car.”
    He wanted to hold her for at least another hour and breathe fresh air, tons of it, but fresh air would be in short supply here for a while and the shooters could have gotten out of the car. He gave her a final squeeze, then they slowly got to their feet.
    “Careful,” he said. SIGs drawn, they made their way to the smoking ruin of the car.
    Sherlock stepped around a burning running shoe with a foot in it and swallowed bile, swallowed again when she felt the heave coming, There was a smell of burned flesh mixed with the foul smell of burning plastic and gasoline. When she got ahold of herself, she said, “I guess they didn’t get out.”
    Through the smoke they saw blackened remains huddled together in what was left of the front seat. Two men.
    Savich pulled out his cell and called the Atlanta field office. “Beau? Savich. Sherlock and I have got ourselves a pretty gnarly situation here.”
    And he told the SAC, Beau Chumley, what had happened.
    He said to Sherlock, “Guess we’re not going to get to have dinner with the Children of Twilight.”
    They waited in their car, cleaned up as best as they could with water from Sherlock’s fizzy water bottle. Savich tried Ethan several times but no go—no cell service that far out in the wilderness. He knew this, yet he tried once again. Then he looked at his wife and said slowly, “I’m dumb as dirt. I forgot about Autumn. Let’s see if I can reach her.” He closed his eyes and pictured her face in his mind.
    Dillon? It’s you, really you?
    Hi, Autumn. What’s happening?
    We’re resting for a minute, Dillon, so I can talk. What happened to your face?
    Sherlock and I had a spot of trouble here in Georgia, but we’re okay. I need you to speak to Ethan for me, okay?
    That beautiful child with her hair in a ratty ponytail, and her mother’s freckles marching across her small nose, giggled.
    I’m going to be a TV.
    Yep, with picture and sound. Okay, ask Ethan to tell me where you are.
    Savich watched Autumn turn away from him. Oddly, he couldn’t see anything else, only her profile, nor could he hear her speaking to Ethan. So did that mean Autumn couldn’t see Sherlock? Autumn turned back to him. Ethan says he’s taking me and mom to Locksley Manor. He said it’s a cave and he knows it real well. We’re going to hide there.
    Savich knew exactly what that meant. Ethan would leave Joanna and Autumn in the cave and go after Blessed and Grace. Since that was what Savich would do as well, he couldn’t say much of anything except, of course, warning him about not looking at Blessed, but Ethan knew that. Ethan also knew what he was doing. He knew the wilderness, and he knew what was at stake. He settled for asking Autumn to tell Ethan to be careful.
    She nodded, turned away again.
    A minute later she was back. Mama is staring at me because she knows we’re talking to each other and she doesn’t want to believe it, but, well, she has to. Ethan told me to tell you he’s got a plan, but he won’t tell me what it is, I’m scared, Dillon. What’s going to happen?
    What to say? Then he knew.
    Sherlock and I are going to try to get Blessed and Grace to leave the wilderness and come back fast to Georgia. Tell Ethan we’re going to see Mrs. Backman again. Tell him we’re going to cut off the head of the snake. You be brave, Autumn. I’m here when you need to speak to me.
    She smiled at him, a smile filled with such hope and confidence— in him.
    When SAC Beau Chumley arrived by helicopter an hour later twilight, the local sheriff and his three deputies were already there, along with the white van of the county forensic team. The first words out of Savich’s mouth were “Can