Two Stones slipped from the trees, gliding like a silent shadow to Sampson, moving behind the trunk he was tied to.
The guard must have decided the sound was nothing, for he turned back and scanned the tree line, then looked to Sampson.
He did his very best to act natural. Exhausted.
Not like his entire body hummed with energy. Something tugged his wrists, sending a shot of pain up his arm. Then his hands dropped an inch. Was he free? He couldn’t tell with so little feeling in his limbs. Even if he was, he would have trouble walking.
The guard still watched him, eyes narrowed, his gaze piercing through the dim light from the fire.
Sampson held his breath, willing himself to remain still despite the agony that wracked his body. The seconds stretched into an eternity as the guard scrutinized him, searching for any sign of deceit.
Just as it looked like the man would come to check him, a commotion erupted on the far side of the camp.
Shouts rang out.
The guard spun, his rifle at the ready, and dashed towards the disturbance.
In a flash, Two Stones crouched at Sampson's side, his knife slicing through the ropes that bound his ankles. "Can you stand?"
He didn’t wait for an answer as all around them, men stumbled from their bedrolls, grabbing for weapons.
Two Stones hauled him up, draping Sampson over his shoulder like a sack of flour.
Pain lanced through him, but he clenched his jaw to keep back his cries. Hanging upside down like this, darkness pressed in, peppering his vision.
He couldn’t lose consciousness. He had to help. Not be burden.
With every jolting step Two Stones took, a fresh shot of agony slammed through his battered body. He clung to consciousness, fighting the black that threatened to pull him under.
Shouts and gunshots echoed behind them. Were they getting louder? Was that a woman yelling?
He could feel more than hear Two Stones call out, though he couldn’t make sense of the words.
Then Sampson was being shifted. Heaved upright and lifted. Other hands grabbed him, wrapping around his middle.
The darkness… He couldn’t tell if it was the night that made it so hard to see or his fading senses. The shouts still sounded, but he couldn’t distinguish whether they were distant or close around him. Everything felt distant. Like he’d already slipped halfway to unconsciousness.
At least he was sitting upright now. In a saddle maybe. Arms gripped tight around his belly.
He could only slump against whoever held him.
Then the horse beneath him surged forward. The jolt sent a fresh wave of fire through his shoulder, drawing him back to the present.
Branches scratched at his arms and face as they rode, but scrapes weren’t even a nuisance compared to the agony inside him.
"Hold on, Sampson. Please, just hold on."
The voice seemed to come from a great distance, barely audible over the roaring in his ears. But something about it tugged at his memory, a lifeline in the darkness.
Grace. It sounded like Grace.
But that was impossible. Grace was safe back at the cabin with Ruby. With the rest of his family. Surely she wasn’t risking her life to save his sorry hide. This had to be a dream, some cruel trick of his mind in his final moments.
A sharp jolt sent fresh agony searing through his body, and he could have laughed at the irony. He wouldn't have thought a dream could be so painful, so viscerally real.
Darkness crept in at the edges of his vision again. The arms around him tightened, anchoring him to the present.
"Stay with me, Sampson. Don't you dare leave us now."
