Sanctuary

Giff prayed the choice was the right one and held the gun butt out. “We’ll find her. He’s your brother. You do what you have to do.”
     
     
    JO bit back another scream as a limb as thick as a man’s torso crashed inches from her feet. It was all swirling dark, roaring sound and wild, tearing wind. Tattered hunks of moss bulleted past her face. Saw palmettos rattled like sabers. Stumbling, she fought for another inch, another foot while the wind raked at her.
    Finally, she dropped to her knees, wrapped her arms around the base of a tree, afraid she would simply be ripped apart.
    She’d led him away, she prayed she’d led him away, but now she was lost. The forest was shuddering with greedy violence. Rain came at her like knives, stabbing her flesh. She couldn’t hear her own breathing now, though she knew it must be harsh and fast because her lungs were on fire.
    She had to get back, she had to get back home before he gave up his search. If he got back before she did, he would kill them all. As he’d surely killed Nathan. Sobbing, she began to crawl, digging her hands into the mud to pull her body along inch by straining inch.
     
     
    INSIDE, Kirby clamped off the tube that was transferring Sam’s blood to Brian. She couldn’t risk taking any more until Sam had rested. “Sam needs fluids, and some protein. This has sapped his strength. Juice,” she began, wearily stretching her back before she lowered her hand to take Brian’s pulse. When his fingers bumped hers, her eyes flew to his face. She caught the faint flutter of his lashes.
    “He’s coming around. Brian, open your eyes, Brian. Come back now. Concentrate on opening your eyes.”
    “Is he all right? Is he going to be all right?” Lexy crowded closer, her shoulder bumping Kirby’s.
    “His pulse is a little stronger. Get me the BP cuff. Brian, open your eyes now. That’s the way.” Her throat burned as she watched his eyes open, struggle to focus. “Take it easy, take it slow. I don’t want you to move. Just try to bring my face into focus. Can you see me?”
    “Yeah.” The pain was outrageous, an inferno in his chest. Dimly he thought he heard someone weeping, but Kirby’s eyes were dry and clear.
    “Good.” Her hand trembled a little, but she steadied it to shine a light in his eyes. “Just lie still, let me check you over.”
    “What happened?”
    “You were hurt, baby.” Weeping helplessly, Kate took his hand and lowered her cheek to it. “Kirby’s fixing you up.”
    “Fuzzy,” he managed, turning his head restlessly. He saw his father’s face, pale and exhausted, then the tube that connected them. “Hurts like a bitch,” he said, then watched in amazement as Sam covered his face with his hands and shook with sobs. “What the hell’s going on. What?” He sank back, weak as a baby under Kirby’s firm hands.
    “I said lie still. I’m not having you undo all my work here. I’ll give you something for the pain in just a minute. Blood pressure’s coming back up. He’s stabilizing.”
    “Can I get some water or something? I feel like I’ve been . . .” He trailed off as it snapped back to his mind. The figure on the road, the dull glint of a gun, the explosion in his chest. “Shot. He shot me.”
    “Kirby and Giff found you,” Lexy told him, struggling to reach around and take his other hand. “They brought you home. She saved your life.”
    “It was Kyle. Kyle Delaney.” The pain was coming in waves now, making his breath short. “I recognized him. His eyes. He had sunglasses on before. He was ... the day I cut my hand. It was Kyle in there with you. He was with you.”
    “The artist?” Kirby lowered the hypo she’d prepared. “The beach bum?”
    “It was Kyle Delaney. He’s been here all along.”
    “Hold still. Hold him still, Lexy. Damn it, Brian.” Frightened by his struggles to get up, Kirby plunged the needle into him with more haste than finesse. “You’ll start the bleeding up again, damn it. Help me here, Kate, he’ll hurt himself before the drug can take effect.”
    Kate pressed her hand on Brian’s shoulder and looked with frightened eyes around the room. “Where’s Jo? Where is Jo Ellen?”
     
     
    LOST, lost in the dark and the cold. She wondered if the wind was dying down or if she was just so used to its nasty buffeting that she no longer felt it trying to kill her. She tried to imagine herself springing to her feet and running, she wanted to will herself to try it, but