SWAT Ed: Fox & Bull (Nothing Special 8)

“Stop running!” Dale hollered, kicking his heels into Brandy’s hind. “Stop, Rid!”

Bull and Dale’s horses were charging with the others now, and the sounds of six huge beasts barreling across the earth caused the ground to tremble beneath Fox’s boots. He quickly did the calculations in his head, and at the angle he was watching, there was no way that Dale was going to make it to Rid before that bear did.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Time was closing fast. Fox kicked up his speed and ran along the fence, pulling his weapon from behind his back. The bear was only yards away from Rid, and Fox wasn’t close enough to shoot it. He slid to a stop and shot his Smith & Wesson twice over his head. The ranch hands running in horror dove to the dirt at the sound of his weapon exploding into the air like lightning striking a transformer, but Fox was more worried about that predator catching Rid.

The bear startled and slowed at Fox’s warning, buying Rid some valuable time, but it didn’t stop it. Fuck. The stampede was closing in, and two of Bull’s men had tranquilizer rifles aimed at the bear, but they both missed.

“Damnit, hit it!” Dale’s legs were bucking wildly as he made Brandy go even faster, pulling far ahead of Mercy, as if she had a turbo button above her withers.

Rid looked terrified, his face twisted into panic-stricken fear as he ran for his life. Fox was not about to let this kid get eaten to death, not when he could save him. He leapt onto the top rung of the fence and balanced his other foot on the post in front of him. He fired multiple shots into the ground a few feet behind Rid, hoping to stop the bear once it felt the bullets rip into the ground. It didn’t.

Bull turned and yelled something at him, but Fox couldn’t make it out over the noise of the pounding hooves and chaos going on behind him as Bull’s front-office staff ushered the last few visitors inside buildings.

Fox was about to shoot the bear dead in the center of its eyes when Garvin hit it twice with the tranquilizer gun in its chest, stunning it enough to make it slow down. One more in its hindquarters sent it stumbling backwards, a weepy roar escaping its twisted muzzle before it slumped over.

Dale barely eased Brandy to a canter when he leaned down and held his arm out, scooping Rid up and onto Brandy’s back behind him while never breaking stride. Rid clamped both arms around Dale’s waist, his cheek resting against the back of his neck as Dale took off back towards the barn, not stopping until they were inside. Fox jumped down from the fence, slumping over and letting the pent-up air out of his lungs. He returned his weapon to the small of his back and sucked in a deep breath of cool air as he watched the wranglers slowly walk up to the sedated bear.

Mercy skirted back and forth, and Fox observed Bull as he clutched his reins in his fists, his own chest heaving as he barked something Fox couldn’t hear into a walkie-talkie. He was debating if he should head over there or just let the wranglers handle it, but he wanted to see if Bull was okay.

He was halfway to them when Bull spun and trotted over to him, a hard scowl creasing his rugged face. That had to have been scary as fuck for him. Fox pulled the bottle of water out of his pocket, realizing he needed a drink himself, but he’d brought this one for Bull.

“Hey,” Fox said when he was on him. He rubbed Mercy’s nose. “You guys okay?”

“Have you lost your damn mind?” Bull growled. He looked furious, and for the first time—ever in his life—Fox was stunned speechless.

His hand slipped from Mercy’s muzzle as he gaped up at Bull.

“What were you thinking?” Bull glowered down at him beneath that black hat, the dark clouds rolling in over his head giving him the appropriate backdrop for his rage. “Are you trying to get me shut down? You can’t discharge a firearm in the middle of a damn petting zoo. There’s minors all over this place, Fox.”

“Well, do these minors know that this place turns into fuckin’ Jurassic Park after hours?” Fox gritted out, his own anger rearing to the surface as the adrenaline slowly fled his system.

Bull clenched his teeth. “You think this is a joke?”

“No. A man about to be eaten by a bear is no fuckin’ joke, Bull.” Fox stepped forward. “But I will tell you what is. You, over here bitching at me for the way I saved your manager’s life. Because if Rid’s only chance of survival was two men that couldn’t shoot a target if it was five feet in front of them, then he was as good as dead… well, eaten.”