The Steep and Thorny Way(67)

Laurence attempted to stand up straight. Strands of his blond hair hung down over his eyes, and the hand he cradled swelled and purpled.

“Go!” I cocked the hammer.

Laurence skidded backward through the ferns. “You’re crazy, Hanalee.”

“Go!”

He turned and hightailed it off into the trees.





CHAPTER 25





A VERY PALPABLE HIT



JOE REMAINED ON HIS SIDE WITH HIS hands clamped over his nose, blood streaming through his fingers. He groaned some more and brought his knees to his stomach.

I uncocked the derringer—my hands shaking, my heart racing—careful not to fire and draw more attention. “We’ve got to get you back to the stable.” I stuffed the pistol back into the holster on my thigh. “We’ve got to hide you.”

“Christ.” Joe winced and sucked air through his teeth. “I think he broke my nose.” He lifted his hands away from his face.

I cringed at the bleeding purple lump that used to be the bridge of his nose. More blood leaked from his nostrils and ran across his lips and his teeth. Every part of his head seemed to bleed.

“Oh, Joe,” I said.

“Is it bad?”

“If you can just get up and walk for a little while, I’ll make you comfortable in the stable.” I knelt down, wrapped my arm around his back, and brought him partway up to a sitting position. Drops of scarlet rained down on his partially buttoned blue shirt, but I ignored the gore and kept nudging him to stand. “Come on.” I gripped both his arms, lifting, hoisting. “It’s just a short walk.”

He helped lever himself off the ground, and we got him to his feet with his left arm dangling around my shoulders and his weight pressed against my right side. I stiffened my muscles and trudged forward, which inspired him to do the same.

We shuffled through the pine needles and fallen leaves with a swooshing racket. My eyes darted about the trees. I didn’t know if I was hearing just our footsteps alone or if Laurence and the other boys also crept across the forest floor. No animals seemed to stir. No birds or buzzing insects. It was simply Joe and me against other human beings.

We made it across the clearing in front of the shed and stood on the precipice of the slope to the creek.

“We’ve got to head down this embankment,” I said. “Do you think you can do it without falling?”

Joe tried to nod, but he ended up coughing up blood that spattered his shirt. “Oh, God!” he said when he saw the mess on his clothing.

“It’s probably just because your nose is bleeding. You’re swallowing your own blood.” I edged us both forward. “Come on.”

He fought to keep his balance and grew sturdier the closer we got to the bottom. My own feet slid on damp soil, but I quickly righted myself to keep from toppling both of us.

“I’m all right,” he said at the edge of the creek. He took his arm off me. “I can cross on my own.”

I held on to his back to check if he wobbled. “Are you sure?”

He nodded. “My legs are fine. The pain’s in my face.”

“Let me go before you so I can help.” I stepped onto the first boulder and held out my hand for him.

He clasped my fingers and followed me across the path of rocks, while the water trickled and bubbled below our feet.

“You would have shot him, wouldn’t you?” he asked when we reached the other side. “If I didn’t tell you where he was that night, you would have killed him.”

I pulled hard on Joe’s hand and sped us past the deer trail leading to the Paulissens’ house. “It terrifies me to think how much I wanted to shoot him.”

“I think you made him piss his pants.”

“I did?”

Joe half snickered, half groaned. “I think so.”

“Well, let’s hope so. If he’s hurrying to change his underwear, that’ll give us time to get out of these woods.”

We broke into a trot, for the thought of Laurence gathering up his friends infused my legs with power. I kept my pace slow enough for Joe yet fast enough to stay safe.

I squeezed down on his hand. “We’re almost there.”

Sunlight from beyond the woods shone across the pinecones and needles scattered on the trail ahead of us. The air warmed. Home awaited just a short way ahead.

“We’ve got to stay behind the tree line and head to the other end of the yard,” I said. “My mother’s cleaning out the basement, as far as I know. I don’t want her peeking out a window and catching us.”

Joe nodded, his teeth clenched against the pain.

We made it through the section of woods that bordered the property behind our open land. I forced us to stop and listen for footsteps, and then we knelt down and darted through the rows of berry bushes to the stable waiting to our left.

Once inside the small outbuilding, I found Joe’s belongings stashed beneath his blanket in a dark corner.

“Here, let’s get you comfortable.” I spread the brown cloth across a pile of hay and helped ease him down to the ground.

The makeshift mattress crunched beneath his back. His head lay at an uncomfortable-looking angle with no pillow behind it, and he closed his eyes and struggled to catch his breath. Blood stained his nose, his lips, his chin, his shirt . . .