The man kicked me again, this time in the leg. I was pretty sure he'd missed what he was really aiming for, but all I could do was curl into a ball. We were losing. I could still smell smoke in the air. I had no idea where Emily was. I reached out, hoping I could crawl away, and the guy shoved his boot down on my hand, adding weight like he was enjoying the torture. The scream burst from my lips like it had a life of its own, and the only thing I could see from this angle was someone grabbing a rather large gas can.
"Not my home," I begged, the words little more than a whisper.
The gas glinted in darkness as it splashed against the back wall of the barn. That was right on the other side of Luke's workbench. The wood was old, dry, and well-seasoned. He swung the gas can again, and time felt like it slowed down while the man did his best to break my hand under his foot.
I saw the match spark and flare to life.
I caught the shadow rushing in from the side.
I heard Ash cry out in pain, the sound one I hoped to never hear again.
I watched in horror as Cy was finally overcome, three men tackling him to the ground, their fists still swinging.
"No!" The word was what rang through my mind, but the voice wasn't mine. It was younger, male, and came from that shadow. Zeke, I realized, just as the burning match lit up the face of the man who was about to take everything that mattered to me. "Put it out or I'll shoot!" the boy ordered, lifting the gun that Ash had lost earlier.
Paul Simmons scoffed at the kid. "You're going to stand up for the fags?" The look on his face wasn't worried at all. "Besides, I know that your momma is scared of guns. Put it away before someone gets hurt, boy."
Zeke just flicked off the safety and moved his finger to the trigger. "I'm not my mom, asshole. And I'm a fag too. Last warning."
Simmons did the last thing I would expect. He tossed the match away - right at the wall. The gas flared to life and a loud bang rang out. Then another.
A dark spot appeared on Simmons' shirt. The man looked down at his belly in disbelief, but the stain was growing. Zeke's aim hadn't been great, but he'd hit. Stumbling back a step, the man clutched at the wound, and then his legs gave out, but Zeke wasn't done.
"All of you!" he screamed, his voice picking that moment to crack. "Hands in the air. Get away from my friends, because I've got plenty of bullets and I'm not afraid to use them."
"Zeke!" Emily shrieked.
"Stay there, Mom," he begged.
"Fuck this," someone said, taking off towards the darkness behind the barn.
"Yeah!" Zeke yelled. "Go! All of..." Then the sound of sirens took over.
The man standing on my hand decided that he was ready to run too. The moment he moved, I pulled my hand to my chest, not sure whether it was broken or not. Faith was immediately at my side, making sure I was ok. I wasn't. I hurt, I was scared, and this time I didn't try to hold back the tears.
"We're ok," the girl said. "We're going to be ok."
And Paul Simmons groaned, making it clear that he was definitely not dead.
Chapter Seventy-Three
Blue and red lights filled the yard. Emily rushed out of the barn, carrying her fire extinguisher and looking for her son. It took only a moment for her to find him, then she raced that way. Me? I couldn't quite catch my breath, but I managed to push myself up, looking for my daughter. She was with Violet and looked ok. In the background, I heard the whoosh of Emily putting something out, but I was more worried about finding Cy. He had a man face-down on the ground, one arm bent behind the guy's back. That meant he was ok, so I tried to see Ash.
He was sprawled on the ground and not moving. I never consciously made the decision to move, but my body took over, getting me to his side. "Ash?" I begged, rolling him over, hoping he wasn't dead.
A moan slipped from his lips and his hands went up to block his face. "Shit." Then he relaxed, letting me pull him against my chest. "Where are they?"
"They ran," I explained even as the police cars made their way up the drive.
The flash of headlights made swaths of brightness across the side of the barn. The sirens made it almost impossible to hear myself think. Then, one by one, they all fell silent, but the lights stayed. All of them.
"Put the gun down, boy," someone ordered.
I turned just in time to catch Zeke toss the weapon away and lift his hands. "They were trying to kill them," he said.
"No, no, no, no," Emily begged. "He's just thirteen."
"I got this," Dan said, stepping up to take over. "It's ok, Miles. Zeke lives here. So does the woman with the fire extinguisher, the one with the girl, the two guys over there, and the other restraining a man. Arrest the rest."
