Josh stared at Larson’s boots, willing him to move. He struggled to get air into his lungs. Had Bill killed Larson? He pressed his hands to his chest, his heart racing. Emma clung to his sleeve, and he dropped his hands.
He glanced at her. “Ah…”
“What’s wrong? Do you have asthma?” She scowled, the skin under her eyes purple and shriveled.
“What? No.”
Dehydration. Of course. Yet she had the energy to worry about him?
She sagged against the tree trunk. She needed fluids or she’d relapse.
His bag with R in it was in the house, but he needed to get to the barn and help Larson before Bill got the upper hand.
“There’s a spigot by the barn. Can you make it that far?”
She nodded. He took her arm, and they scurried around piles of branches to the side of the barn. He peered into the side door as she crouched behind him. He struggled to breathe, as Bill’s harsh voice echoed to the rafters.
“Now.” He ran halfway down the side of the barn to a side door and the faucet. He gave the spigot a half twist. She drank then he did, and he shut it off.
“Was that a gun? Did they shoot the deputy?”
“Yeah.” He counted to ten backward, pressing on his chest. He closed his eyes, and Emma placed her hand on his shoulder. He nodded.
“Do we have a plan?” She held his gaze, her eyes bottomless.
A plan, right. He glanced at the sky, the cirrus clouds rushing to the east. No storms coming, so what was the plan?
“We need to help him. He might die.” She pointed inside the barn.
He took her hand and held it in both of his. “He won’t die. Follow me.” He pushed the door open and pointed at the ladder right inside. “To the hayloft.”
He helped her to stand, and they slipped through the door. He peered into the storage room then held his finger to his lips and waved for her to climb. A clank and some rustling came from the storage room. He followed her up, rung after rung.
Someone pushed the big center aisle doors open wider, and the interior grew brighter. Dean walked out of the storage room with a coil of tow rope.
Josh shielded Emma with his body. He could feel her warmth, the scent of her hair an exotic perfume. Dean rushed past without a glance.
“Stay down,” Bill growled.
“This is your plan? Shoot the deputy?” Larson said, and chuckled.
“He’s alive.” Emma’s voice was a sigh.
Josh slumped against the ladder in relief.
But how could Larson laugh at a time like this? Was that part of his training? Show no fear? Josh shuddered. Bill stood over Larson, pointing the gun at him. Dean waved the tow rope. They couldn’t tie Larson with tow rope. The knot would never hold.
“That’s the best rope you could find?” Bill took a couple steps toward Dean.
Josh froze. If Bill glance up, it was all over, but Bill didn’t look up. Larson rolled to his side clutching his shoulder, blood seeping through his fingers. Bill rushed at him and kicked him in the side. Larson grunted.
“You’ll never get away this time.” Larson spat out blood.
“You’re the one shot and lying on the ground.” Bill’s words came out like a soft caress, like a snake slithering through the grass.
Josh’s hand slipped. He grabbed at the ladder rung. Emma tensed in front of him.
“Sorry. Slow and steady, now.” The words were for him as much as Emma. His fingers tingled from gripping the ladder. She climbed onto the hayloft and crawled away from the edge. Josh eased over the top and lay on the hayloft floor. He glanced over the edge. Bill towered over Larson.
“Here, hold this.” Bill handed the gun to Mo. “I’ll tie him.”
“Uh, Bill,” Mo said, holding the muzzle pointing at the ground.
“Hold it up, stupid.” Bill raised the gun until it pointed at Larson.
“What’s happening?” she whispered.
Josh squinted at Emma. “At least Larson’s alive, but he’s hurt.”
Mo shifted from foot to foot, the gun aimed at the ground again. Josh leaned farther over the ledge, and hay drifted to the floor. Dean and Bill were fumbling with the heavy rope and didn’t notice. Josh rolled away from the edge.
He crawled to her side. “They’re tying Larson with tow rope.” He clamped a hand over his mouth to stop his laughter.
“Why is that funny?” she asked.
He nodded. “It’s too thick to hold a knot. Larson will slip right out of it.” He rolled back to the edge.
“Let’s just shoot him.” Bill threw the rope across the floor.
“Wait. What?” Mo turned and pointed the gun at Bill’s chest.
“Watch it,” Bill said, grabbing for the pistol, but Mo clutched it away.
Josh stood and reached for the cargo net hanging on the wall. It fell to the floor. He clenched his teeth and peered down at the men, but none of them seemed to notice him. He motioned to Emma, and she grabbed a corner. Together they untangled it and laid it out flat. He nodded at her, but her pale complexion gave him a start. She held the net in her tiny hands. Would she go flying off with the net?
She shook her head as though reading his mind, her jaw clenched. He pointed at a spot on the edge of the loft, and she took her position. They each held a side of the cargo net, their arms spread wide. He checked below one last time. Larson lay sprawled on the floor gripping his shoulder. Mo stood holding the gun, with Bill and Dean to his left in a half-circle around Larson.
A shadow cast across Larson. Josh glanced at the barn door as another man stepped into the barn. Josh leaned into the shadows, and Emma did too.
“Oh no,” she whispered, her thin voice falling flat. She rushed to him, and he held her close.
“What’s going on here?” the strange man said.
Dad’s voice hit Josh like a splash of fresh water. Emma’s knees buckled, and he crushed her to him. He pointed and whispered, “My dad.”
She nodded, her mouth a perfect O.
He gazed into her eyes. She nodded and she moved away to take her position. She gripped the net, her knuckles white. Josh scanned the scene again. Larson lay at Mo and Bill’s feet. Dean stood behind Bill, right beneath them. It was time.
He glanced at Emma, her lips pressed together. He made a swinging motion with his arms then he held up three fingers. She nodded.
They swung the net back and forth, back and forth, back then released. The net sailed through the air, and he froze. It floated out in an arc, unfurling as it fell, imprisoning Mo, Bill, and Dean.
“What the—” Bill hit the ground with a thud, taking Mo and Dean with him.
“We did it.” She wobbled near the edge, and he grabbed her hoodie and hugged her to him. He inhaled the musty smell of her and smiled into her hair.
Mo pushed his hands against Dean, and Bill thrashed next to him. Larson grunted to his feet. His shirt was torn at the shoulder, but the bleeding had stopped.
“He was faking. He must have seen us and kept Mo, Bill, and Dean occupied so we could toss the net.” He grinned at Emma, and she leaned into him.
Larson tugged a corner of the net to secure the criminals. He twisted the gun from Mo’s grasp as Bill grabbed for it, but Dean’s struggles twisted the net tighter.
“This ain’t fair.” Bill growled. “I know my rights.”
“So, you have a right to shoot me then threaten to kill me?” Larson put a hand over his wounded shoulder. “The judge will love that.”
He helped her climb down the ladder then walked out of the shadows. “Dad?”
“Son?” Dad smothered him in a bear hug then held him by the shoulders. “Are you okay?” He scanned the barn. “Where’s Mom?”
“Uh.” Josh sniffed. His throat tightened, but he choked the words out. “She’s at the hospital.”