Memphis could hear the train now, not just the whistle. Ambling along at an unhurried pace, but moving inevitably closer nonetheless.
“Find us. Find Knox. How?”
Nash snorted. “I’ve known where you were the whole time. I have eyes and ears all over that hospital. It wasn’t nothing to figure out you’d shacked up with that felon. I gotta give it to you, you do work fast.”
“There’s no way you followed us to Oregon.”
“I didn’t have to. GPS on your man’s truck.”
“But we ditched the truck after Dad’s goons tried to hit us at the treehouse.”
Nash lifted his arm to show him a gnarly looking wound on his forearm. “We track all our fighting dogs through a GPS chip on their collars. The truck wasn’t the only tracker I placed. I only managed to get it on one of the dogs before the other one took a bite of me, but turns out that didn’t matter because you take the both of them everywhere.”
“What?” Memphis said, even though he’d heard him perfectly well, taking another step closer.
“Yeah, I figured you’d run…because you always run. I was almost positive you’d leave Knox behind, though. You didn’t even know him and you’ve always been a huge coward.” He flicked the gun in a mindless gesture. “Figured I could just catch up with him when he hit the system, but, just in case, I wanted a little insurance. What I didn’t expect was for you to stash the little shit away before you took off. I’ll give it to ya, that was smart. That’s what kept you alive. It’s why I had those two idiots give you a nudge at the cabin. I thought maybe you’d run and bring me to where you hid him. Took a little time, but I guess it worked out just the same.”
The train’s light caught the two of them in its beam as it rounded the corner. Had it been ten minutes? Was Preacher coming soon? Was he already watching and waiting for his chance? “So, you just followed the GPS tracker here and hoped it would lead you to Knox?”
“Technically, tonight, I just followed you. I’ve been trailing you since the safe house. You guys were just too upset to notice.”
“Why?”
“Nobody jumps in the car after midnight with two dogs and an overnight bag unless there’s an emergency. When I saw you pull into the station, I kept going a little farther and doubled back. I walked the rest of the way so as not to alert your boyfriend.”
“Then you know Preacher is right on the other side of that building and more people are coming.”
Nash’s amusement disappeared in an instant, his eyes looking dead and black in the darkness. “Then I guess I shouldn’t waste any more time talking.”
He took aim, pointing the gun at Memphis’s heart.
“No!”
Nash’s gaze snapped to Knox at his sudden cry, his gun swinging towards the boy. Memphis snagged his wrist, shoving the gun upwards as it fired into the air. “Knox. Run!”
Memphis didn’t know if he did or not; he couldn’t tear his attention from Nash for a second. His brother was taller and had more heft, but Memphis had more to lose. His muscles burned as he fought to keep the barrel of the gun pointed away from his stomach. Where was Preacher?
Nash swung Memphis around, grunting, as he shoved him towards the tracks in increments. Fuck. Memphis sank his weight into his heels, refusing to yield even an inch without a fight. Nash was literally trying to throw him in front of a moving train.
Memphis’s hands were growing slippery, his grip on Nash’s wrist giving just enough for his brother to get the gun between them. Memphis didn’t know what else to do so he picked up his foot and drove the heel of his boot into the side of Nash’s knee, feeling a small sense of satisfaction at the grotesque sound of a ligament popping followed by Nash’s howl of pain cutting through even the sound of the train.
Nash didn’t fire the gun, but he didn’t drop it either. He did falter though, giving Memphis enough time to wrench from his grip before Nash could toss him onto the tracks. Memphis angled his body, prepared to run. Better to be shot in the back than point-blank in the chest.
A snarl cut through the night air a second before the approaching train whistle blew, probably trying to let them know they were too close to the tracks. But none of that mattered. A black blur sailed past Memphis, and Nash began to holler either in anger or agony. Memphis didn’t care. He hoped Luke ripped his throat out.
“Luke. No! Release. Release!”
At Preacher’s harsh shout, the reality of the situation hit him, both Luke and Nash were seconds away from being crushed by the oncoming train. He didn’t think, just leaned in, yanking the dog by his collar, shouting, “Oh, fuck.Please,release!”
Maybe it was the panic in his voice or maybe Luke understood his plight, but the dog let go, abruptly sending them both flying backwards onto the hard concrete platform, lightning arcing through Memphis’s shoulder at the pain.
Still, he held onto Luke for dear life as the train passed close enough for Memphis to feel the heat radiating from the bottom and hear the sickening sound of his brother being pulled beneath its wheels. Nash hadn’t even had time to make a sound.
Memphis turned away as the train’s brakes hissed and screeched, Luke squirming his way out of his grip. Then he was being yanked to his feet. “Are you fucking insane? That train almost crushed you. Oh, my God. That train almost crushed you.”
“You’re crushing me,” Memphis gasped. “Where’s Knox?”
“He’s fine. He’s fine. He’s with Calder and the others.”
