"Don't," I say. "We can't trust him."
"I'm going to count down now. Walk toward me, or I shoot."
I discreetly motion for Val to stay where she is. The moment he begins counting, I'll charge. I'm far enough to the side that it'll take him a moment to realize it. I will charge, and Mathias will get Diana and Val out and shut that door. That's all we need. I can handle Brady.
"Three."
I charge. Brady fires. I dive and the bullet hits the wall behind me. When I roll up, Val is walking toward Brady.
"Val, no," I say.
"I have to," she says. "I can do this. I'll be fine."
The gun swings in my direction.
"Val made her choice," Brady says. "The smart choice. If no one comes after me, I'll leave her at the spot where Greg's assassin shot your boyfriend. Give me one hour. She'll be fine."
Val reaches Brady. He has her turn around and raises the gun between her shoulder blades.
"Everyone step outside," Brady says. "Do not test me. If you do, you'll see exactly how desperate I am. Please. Just let me go."
Mathias and Diana retreat. I back out of the building, one slow step at a time.
22
As I back through that door, I'm torn between wanting to see someone out there . . . and praying no one is. Dalton, yes. Anders, yes. Even some of the militia could be trusted to keep a level head and help me end this. Sam, Nicole, Jen, Kenny . . .
Kenny.
I squelch the reminder.
There is no one outside. Not everyone will be helping with the fire. We aren't a town of saints or heroes. Given what we actually are--criminals and victims--it is a testament to Rockton that so many put aside fear and self-interest to help. Those who have not, though, certainly aren't going to come out now, as Brady steps onto the street with a gun at Val's back.
"If you're truly innocent--" I begin.
"Trust the system?" Brady gives a harsh laugh. "There is no system here. There's just my stepfather and a mountain of money. That old man there tells me to remember that you guys saved my life. That's a lie. You saved an asset. If I die, you lose your share of Mount Fortune."
"And what would we do with it?" I wave at the town. "We have nothing to spend it on."
"Sure you do," he says. "You can spend it on the only thing that matters. Freedom. You're trapped in this hellhole, same as me. For money, I presume. Like guys who work on oil rigs. No one does that for fun."
I keep arguing, but I keep moving backward, too, because I know my arguments are pointless. A rich kid like him looks around and sees the wilderness equivalent of a ghetto. No one would choose to live here.
In talking, I'm only hoping that my raised voice brings Dalton or Anders running. It does not. I hear shouts over at the lumber shed, and I know they're still fighting the fire.
The fire that Brady's accomplice set.
I want to seize that as proof it isn't Kenny. He'd been outside the clinic door when it started. But it's easy to delay a fire. Start it small enough, and it could take an hour or more to be spotted. He's our carpenter. He's in charge of the lumber shed. In charge of the firewood stocks.
"Val?" I say.
She looks at me. Her eyes are fixed wide, and I know she's praying for me to save her. I cannot. Unless something startles Brady, I can't get the jump on him, and even if he is startled, it's just as likely he'll squeeze the trigger accidentally. I must let him take her and hope he is telling the truth. That he will free her.
I tell her that. Reassure her. Do as he says. We'll be there within the hour. Don't leave that spot. I'm not sure she hears any of it.
Then I ask what I must ask, as cruel as it seems to speak of anything except her immediate situation.
"Did you tell Kenny he could leave earlier?"