He gives me an uncertain smile and takes a step toward me.
Jack Traynor rises behind him. It’s a swift movement for a man shot in the side. He pulls a wicked knife from a sheath in his right boot. His face is twisted into an angry snarl, sweat and blood drenching his skin. I have no time to shout as he raises the knife above his head. I have no time to move as he brings it down toward the back of Cal’s neck, the blade gleaming dully. I can do nothing as I look on.
Except there’s a loud bang, and the side of Traynor’s skull seems to part, his furious expression melting. He jerks to the right and flips over the railing, disappearing from sight. The knife clatters to the ground. The sound of the gunshot echoes down the valley before it too is gone. Then there’s only the sound of the wind and the river below.
“Bastard,” Abe says, lowering the gun. “You guys okay?” He looks so tired.
I nod, unable to speak. Cal is looking down at the knife on the ground, the knife that should be buried in his spine. He touches it with his boot and then kicks it off the edge of the bridge.
“Think maybe we need to see Doc Heward,” Abe mutters. “Maybe even head on in to the hospital.” He points down the road toward town. Traynor’s truck is parked on the road. “Think he left the keys in there?”
“Maybe,” I say, almost disbelieving what has just happened. “You shot him!” “Yeah.”
“In the head!”
“Yeah.”
“Holy fuck!”
Abe rolls his eyes. “Wasn’t going to let him get the drop on Cal, all right?” “But….”
“You’re welcome, Benji.”
I nod, unsure how to ask when my best friend learned to shoot like a gunslinger. Then, a sound above the river.
A car is coming up the road, from town. Headlights shine through the trees that
shake in the wind. “Cal, who is it?” He shakes his head as he frowns. “Can’t tell. Can’t see a thread. Benji, it’s… different now. I don’t feel the same. Something has… changed.”
He’s almost human.
I touch his hand. “Can you see mine?”
The frown disappears. “So blue,” he sighs. “Like it was made for me. Yes. It’s still there. I think it will always be.”
Oh God.
He helps me over the divider, and we stand next to Abe. He’s starting to turn a little gray, and I’m worried. Hopefully whoever is in the car has a phone, because I don’t know where mine is. Probably with the Ford in the river. The car winds up the road, goes around that last corner, and slows when the driver sees the black truck on the side of the road. Not a car, though. An SUV that looks familiar….
“Oh thank Christ,” I breathe.
“Who is it?” Abe asks.
“My Aunt Christie.” I raise my hand and wave at her, and she speeds up, heading
toward us, flashing her lights. “She’ll have her phone. We can call Doc Heward and see if he can get a helicopter to take Abe to the hospital.” “No need to make that big of a fuss,” Abe sniffs, though he sways when he says it. I put my arm around my friend, and he sags slightly against me, putting his head on my shoulder. I kiss his wrinkled forehead, and he huffs quietly to himself. I can tell he’s pleased.
Christie screeches to a halt in front of us and flies out of the front seat, leaving the door open. “What the hell is going on?” she asks, her face white. “Oh my Jesus, are you okay?” She rushes over to us and cups my face. “What happened?”
“There was an accident,” I say.
Abe snorts from his place on my shoulder. “That’s one way to look at it.” Christie looks confused. “What happened?” she repeats.
“A man named Jack Traynor tried to kill us,” Abe says. “Would have, too, if it hadn’t been for Cal, here.”
She glances up at Cal then looks around. “Where is this Traynor?”
“Dead,” I say with contempt. “Bottom of the river. That’s his truck right over there. How’d you know we were up here?”