That Summer Night (Callaways #6) (28 page)

He started the engine and took another look through his mirrors, seeing nothing out of the ordinary. As he shifted position behind the wheel, he winced a little at the movement. Sitting for long periods of time always made his leg stiffen up.

Shayla shot him a quick look. "If you're getting tired, I can drive."

"I'm fine."

"Your leg isn't cramping?"

"It's nothing I can't handle."

"You don't have to handle it if you let me drive."

"We don't have that much further to go, and I know the road, you don't."

"Fine, but are you sure you're up to a hike, Reid?"

"I'll make it."

"You don't like to admit weakness, do you?"

"Not a good idea when you're going into battle."

"If you're honest with me, maybe I can help you, if you need it."

"I'll let you know if I do. I can be as stubborn as you, Shayla."

She sighed. "I can see that. So why don't we each just take care of ourselves?"

He nodded, but he knew that he was going to do everything in his power to take care of both of them.

Twenty minutes later, he pulled into a small clearing. "This is where we park," he said. "It's about two miles in."

"Your grandfather didn't have a road to his cabin?"

"He wanted to feel like he was in the wilderness, no cars, no traffic, no people."

"I'm guessing no cell phone coverage."

"You got that right."

"So Robert won't be able to call us."

"No, but he'll know where we are, if he can remember how to get there. It's not the easiest path."

Shayla waved her hand around the open space. "There's no other car here."

"We must be ahead of him." He hoped Robert would show, because if he didn't, Reid had no idea what he would do next.

After grabbing the backpack, Reid slung it over his shoulders, tucked the gun into the waistband of his jeans and they started off on their trek.

For almost thirty minutes, they didn't speak. Reid didn't know what Shayla was thinking about, but he did know she was determined to keep pace with him even if it meant jogging a little every now and then. And he was just as determined to ignore the growing ache in his leg. They were both focused on getting to the end of the road.

A moment later, he heard Shayla stumble and swear. He stopped walking and saw her rubbing her shin. "Are you all right?"

"I didn't see that rock. I was looking up at the mountains. They are magnificent."

"They are," he agreed, realizing how much he'd missed this part of the world. When this was all over, he was definitely coming back. "Shall we keep going?"

"Sure," she said, then paused. "Do you hear that?"

"It sounds like a helicopter." He gazed up at the sky.

"I don't see anything."

"It's probably too far away."

"Maybe that's Robert helicoptering in, like James Bond."

He grinned. "While I wouldn’t put it past Robert to take the easy way out, he is definitely not James Bond."

"That's true. That's more your role."

"You're right, and today I have the requisite beautiful blonde by my side."

She smiled back at him. "Who hopefully will not have to save your ass."

"Hopefully," he agreed.

"Let's keep going."

He started walking again. "There's a beautiful view not too far ahead. You're going to love it."

Fifteen minutes later, they came out of the thick woods into a clearing. Reid looked at Shayla as she took in the scene. A waterfall cascaded off the face of a majestic rock wall, the stream falling a half a mile into a deep gorge.

"Wow!" she muttered.

He led her over to a waist high rock wall. "Not bad, huh?"

"It's spectacular. This was actually worth the walk."

"There's more to come."

"Hang on. I need to retie my shoe."

As she squatted down, a blast echoed through the canyon.

"Shit!" Reid swore as he grabbed her hand, yanked her to her feet and sprinted toward the trees.

* * *

"What's going on?" Shayla asked, stumbling behind him.

Another blast rang out, answering her question.

Someone was shooting at them!

She couldn't believe it.

Reid dove behind a large boulder, pulling her with him. He pulled out his gun and said, "Stay here."

"Wait, where are you going?"

"To create a diversion."

"Reid!"

He wasn't listening to her. He grabbed a large rock and tossed it into the trees twenty-five feet away from them, then he ran, ducking behind trees as he did so. Another shot rang out, followed by a blast from Reid's gun.

She crouched down behind the boulder in terror, not sure how to help. She didn't want them to shoot Reid, but she also didn't know how to help him.

Her heart hammered against her chest. She flashed back to the clinic, to that feeling of paralysis as the shots rang out, as she expected to be hit, killed, at any moment.

The rapid fire continued for thirty more seconds. And then it was silent. She waited another minute and then forced herself to inch towards the edge of the boulder. She couldn't see anyone. Nor could she hear anything.

Her stomach turned over. She felt nauseous at the thought of Reid being shot or even worse. A rustle of leaves and branches sent her heart into her throat. She thought she heard someone moan.

Was it Reid? Was he hurt? Or was it the person who'd been shooting at them?

With fear running through her veins, she forced herself to her knees. She glanced over the boulder. Several feet away she could see a man on the ground.

It was Reid. He was down.

She wanted to throw up. She wanted to run. She wanted to wake up from this horrible new nightmare. But she wasn't dreaming. This was real.

Reid needed her help.

Scrambling to her feet, she forced herself to move, terrified that each step would end with a blast, a shot to the head or the chest. But she kept going, because she could see Reid. He wasn't dead, thank God. But he was having trouble getting up. He'd definitely been hit.

The sight of his courageous struggle to stand made her run. She got to his side and saw blood dripping down his arm, spreading across his t-shirt.

More memories assailed her, the blood on her patient, the blood on the floor, so much blood.

That was then. This was now.

She had to focus.

"I'm okay, Shayla," Reid said, the pallor of his face and the pain in his eyes belying the statement.

"You've been shot."

"It's just a flesh wound. Help me up. We need to get out of here."

She looked around. "Where's the shooter?"

"He's over there. He's dead." Reid tipped his head toward a patch of trees. "I think he was alone, but I don't know for sure."

She didn't want to consider the fact that another shooter might be nearby, maybe reloading his gun. But she couldn't think about that now. Reid was her first concern.

"You need to put pressure on the wound, Reid." She wished she had a scarf or a sweater but neither one of them was wearing any extra clothes.

"I'm putting pressure on it," he said, pressing his fingers against his bicep.

She made a quick decision, slipping her arms out of her shirt, so she could unhook her bra. She peeled it off and said, "I'll tie this around you."

"So all it took for me to get your bra off was to get shot," he muttered, his attempt at a joke falling short as he winced with pain.

She pulled his hand away from his arm and saw a gaping wound. It looked like the bullet had gone right through and not hit any bones or significant arteries. Thank God for that. "This is going to hurt," she said, wrapping her pale pink bra around the wound as tightly as she could. "But it will help until we can get to the car."

"We're not going to the car. It's too far away. We'll go to the cabin."

"You need to get to a hospital, Reid."

"Why? I've got a doctor with me."

"But I don't have anything."

"There's a first aid kit in the backpack. You can help me at the cabin."

"Reid—"

"Shayla, please don't argue," he added, his skin turning another shade of pale.

"Okay. We'll do it your way." She picked up the gun from the ground, feeling the heat of the barrel against her fingers. Then she helped Reid to his feet.

"I'll take that back," he said.

She was fine with returning the gun to him. Just having it in her hand made her nervous. "Where is the man you shot? I need to see him."

"No, you don't." He shook his head, a grim expression in his eyes.

"I do. There are too many faceless ghosts in my dreams."

Reid hesitated and then led her through the trees until she saw the body on the ground. The man appeared to be in his forties, with light brown hair and a thick beard. There was blood all over his chest. It was clear that he'd been shot through the heart. She felt a little nauseous, but she battled through it. "Who is he?"

"No I.D."

"Are you sure?"

"I checked. I was on my way back to you when I started to pass out."

She shot him a worried look. "What should we do with him?"

"Leave him for now. I want to get to the cabin before anyone else shows up."

That made sense, but it still felt strange to walk away.

They retrieved the backpack from behind the boulder, and Shayla threw it over her shoulders as Reid struggled to walk. He was going to need all his strength to make it down the trail.

"How much further do we have to go?" she asked.

"About twenty minutes."

She didn't ask him if he was going to make it, because she knew there was no way he was not going to make it.

As they walked, Shayla kept waiting for another shot to ring out, but they got to the cabin without any more problems.

His grandfather's house was very small and all the windows were boarded up except one. Reid staggered up the three steps to the front door. He pulled a key out of his pocket and unlocked the door.

She followed him across the threshold. There was no electricity and the interior was very dark with only a bit of light coming through the one unblocked window. There was a couch in front of a fireplace and a scarred wood coffee table. A tiny galley kitchen was adjacent to the living room and there was a bathroom and another doorway leading to a bedroom, which appeared to have only a bed with a bare mattress and a box spring. Clearly, no one had been in the cabin in a long time.

As Reid collapsed on the couch, she dug through the backpack for the first aid kit and then walked over to him. She perched on the edge of the sofa and took a closer look at the wound. The bleeding seemed to have slowed down. "I need to clean your wound. I don't want it to get infected."

"Do what you have to do," he replied, his eyes glittering with pain.

She untied the bra and ripped open his sleeve. She cleaned the area where the bullet had gone through and applied an antibiotic ointment. Then she wrapped a gauze bandage around his arm.

Through it all, Reid didn't say a word. He certainly had a high tolerance for pain.

When she was done, she grabbed the bottle of pain relievers and poured three tablets into her hand. "Take these," she said, handing them to him, along with a water bottle.

He downed the medication and took a long swig of water. "Thanks."

She looked at the beads of sweat on his forehead and compared them to the goose bumps on his arms. She got up, grabbed the sleeping bag and unrolled it. Then she covered him with it. "Shock," she said.

"I'm fine. I just need a minute."

While Reid was resting, she explored the small cabin, checking out the kitchen and the closets to see what was there. The answer was basically nothing. There was no electricity, but there did appear to be running water, although it came out a bit yellow from the rust in the pipes. She definitely did not want to drink it. Thankfully, they had water and snacks to get them through the night.

Although, the idea of spending the night at this remote cabin in the woods with God knows who out in the wilderness was not appealing at all. She wanted to get them both back to civilization, but she couldn't navigate the woods without Reid's help, and he needed to rest.

She moved over to the backpack, digging through it to see what else Reid had brought. The sight of the notebook reminded her of why they were here—Robert.

Where the hell was he?

She took the notebook with her as she returned to the couch, sitting down by Reid's feet. His eyes were closed. She didn't know if he was sleeping or breathing through the pain, but she let him be. Hopefully, Robert would be here soon, and they could finally get some answers.

But as she thought about Robert making his way through the mountains, she couldn't quite believe he could do it.

A terrifying thought suddenly occurred to her. What if whoever had shot at them had already taken Robert down? He could be lying in the woods somewhere.

Her pulse began to race as she tried to think logically. If the gunman had gotten Robert, he wouldn't have been shooting at them. Robert was the target, right?

She really wished she knew who the enemy was. Then it would be easier to fight.

She opened the notebook, hoping she'd be able to find a clue that Reid might have missed.

Chapter Twenty-One

Reid awoke to the sound of crackling wood. He looked over to the fireplace to see Shayla attempting to build a fire. She had a few sparks going and was blowing on the small flame, attempting to spur it forward with the heat of her breath. He smiled at the determination on her face.

She was one hell of an amazing woman, he thought. She'd dodged bullets and left the protective cover of the rocks to go and look for him. Then she'd ripped off her bra, applied a tourniquet and carried a heavy backpack through the woods. She'd cleaned his wound without a second thought and now she was attempting to build a fire.

Although, the thought of the smoke curling out of the fireplace was enough to make him say, "Shayla, wait."

She turned her head in surprise. "You're awake."

"The fire," he muttered. "Smoke."