The clouds chased them, catching up.
They left the riverbed, trudged through a cut of forest, and then emerged in an open area, headed toward a deer trail on the other side. Keely shivered, her head on Sully’s shoulders.
“How much farther?” Dawson’s gut tightened the minute they walked into the open. Like they might be prey. Aw, he was probably overreacting to the wind in the trees, the darkening sky, the gripping cold.
Caspian slowed, came back, nudged up against him, as if pushing him.
“It’s okay, pal.”
Sully turned, walking backward for a bit. “We’re nearly there—”
A crack bit the air.
Sully jerked and his leg buckled.
Then, just like that, he dropped to one knee.
Keely sprawled into the snow with a scream.
Dawson dropped, went prone, and rolled to his back, searching the forest for the shooter, his heart in his throat.
Caspian scooted next to him, nearly on top of him.
Silence. Nothing but forest ahead of them, but they lay in the open, exposed. He scanned the woods, fighting to control his breathing.
Nearby, Sully groaned, a deep, angry sound of frustration.
“Sul? You shot?”
“It’s just a scratch.”
Dawson began to crawl to him. Blood spit on the snow around Sully.
“Just a scratch?” His breath razed his lungs.Calm. Down.“We need to get to cover. Can you walk?”
Sully pressed his glove against the wound on the side of his leg. “I’m good.”
“He’s shot?” Keely crawled over, her breathing again panicked.
“We need to get off this field, now,” Dawson said, glancing into the trees. “Give me your scarf.”
Her hands shook as she handed it to him.
Another shot broke the air. Snow tufted up behind Keely, barely missing her.
Caspian slammed against him, nearly knocking him over. Yeah, well, good move. “Get down!” Dawson reached out, pushed Keely down, Caspian between them.
Sully grabbed the scarf from Dawson, tied it around his leg. “Let’s move.” He tried to roll over but fell.
Aw. Instinct took over, settled him as Dawson reached for Keely. “I’ll come back for you!”
Then he got up, gritted his teeth, and hauled Keely up against him. “Go, Casp!”
The dog shot off, and they followed in an awkward scramble, the losers of a three-legged race. Another shot hit a tree, scrubbing off bark, as he flung them into the ring of forest. He dumped her in the snow. “Take cover!”
Then he turned for Sully.
Caspian stepped in front of him.
