When Silas reached the bubbling, rocky, stream that marked the edge of the property, he stopped and turned. Crank was twenty years young, and faster, and had nearly run him down. Silas was out of breath and spent from his sprint over rough ground, and decided his only option now was to fight.
“Come on!” he shouted as a challenge to Lee.
Crank skidded to a stop, flipped the Winchester over and grabbed it by the barrel before swinging it like a bat, intending to cave Silas’s head in. Silas ducked under the swing then charged into Crank, driving his shoulder into Crank’s gut and plowing him into the ground.
Crank felt like his spine shattered when he hit the ground, losing the rifle and screaming as pain radiated out from the rock that was trying to crush his backbone. With the strength of pain and desperation, he heaved Silas off of him, the two men rolling over as they grappled; their hands clawing at each other’s eyes and their faces twisted in grimaces of pain and effort.
Silas began to dig his thumbs into Crank’s eyes, and Crank threw himself off before Silas could inflict serious damage. The two men scrambled to their feet and slowly began to circle, looking for an opening. Crank thought about going for his knife, but that would open him up for an attack, and it wouldn’t penetrate the steel plates of the ballistic vest anyway. It was little more than a pocketknife, not the giant combat knife he’d worn in the army that would skid along the surface of the vest until it found an opening. In a fight, he wasn’t going to have the time to try to slip the blade between the plates, not while Silas was trying to take the knife away from him.
Silas sneered. “You’re going to die, Lee. I’m going to kill you then I’m going up there to kill your bitch… but not before I fuck her. Nobody will be able to hear her scream, and I’m going to fuck her until she’s dead.”
Crank said nothing because Silas was only trying to goad him into a rash attack. He used the thought of Silas raping Lana to fuel his rage, to sweep away his labored breathing, energize his tired legs, and blot out his pain. He took the fury and directed it, focused it, used it become death personified. He smiled. Silas was already dead; he just didn’t know it.
With the body armor on, any blows to Silas’s body would be ineffectual and would only likely hurt Crank’s hand, but the armor was heavy, and constricting, and would slow him down. Crank was taller than Silas, and with his greater reach, he could stand off and punch to wear Silas down. He moved in and threw a couple of range-finding lefts before unloading with his right with an uppercut that he got his back into.
His fist crashed into Silas’s jaw, and he staggered back. He was no pushover and gave his head a shake to try to clear the ringing from the blow, but before he could recover, Crank’s left jab connected. Silas’s nose exploded in a spray of blood, and he stumbled back again.
Silas, realizing that Crank was picking him apart, roared as he charged in. Crank fired another hard right into Silas’s face, the impact of fist on bone radiating all the way to his shoulder, but Silas blew right through the punch, taking Crank to the ground again.
Silas was hurt, the last punch temporarily blinding him in his left eye. Crank grabbed Silas and pulled his head down and tucking it under his arm to lock it in as he surrounded Silas with his legs.
Silas began to punch Crank in the ribs as he drove with his legs, trying to power out of the hold, his back arching up, using the power of legs to pry open Crank’s arms. Crank grimaced as Silas tried to power his way out of the hold, then released him. Silas popped up like a spring, the sudden release of pressure allowing Crank to force him off of him again.
As Silas scrambled to his feet, Crank rushed him, bellowing in rage, hitting him hard, going in under his defense and picking him up before body-slamming him to the ground at the edge of the creek.
Silas screamed in pain as he landed with a splash in the shallows of the creek, the armor protecting him from the impact of the rocks. The water began to turn a thin red as he bled from a cut on his head from the impact against a rock. Crank began to fire right after right into Silas’s face.
“Die, goddamn you… die, goddamn you… die, goddamn you,” he chanted with every blow, his own knuckles red with blood from Silas’s face and his own split skin.
Silas attempted to rally, shoving Crank then kicking at him, causing him to stumble back. Silas tried to regain his feet, moving slowly due to the hell Crank had rained down upon him, but Crank was there again, shoving his head under the water.
“Die you motherfucker,” Crank said as Silas’s thrashing became more violent and desperate, but weighted with his armor and Crank’s knee in his back, along with the damage Crank’s fits had inflicted, he couldn’t rise.
With a convulsive lunge, Silas got his head up just long enough to draw in a breath before Crank shoved it back under the water. Crank’s mouth carved into a feral sneer, as he continued to hold Silas down, the man’s struggles becoming weaker and weaker until they stopped. He continued to hold Silas’s face in the water until, with a convulsive gasp, he released him and jumped to his feet.
He stood up, the icy cold water swirling around his calves, panting hard. It was over. He shivered. He was wet to his waist from kneeling in the water, and his shirt was wet from rolling around in the snow and Silas’s splashes. He shuddered again, his arms going around his body as he slogged out of the stream, picking up his rifle as he trudged up the hill toward the cabin.
Lana jumped as a siren whooped, then fell silent. “Lana! Don’t shoot! It’s me, Crank.”
She jumped to her feet at Crank’s voice, flung the door open, and ran to him, her feet barely touching the ground. She leaped into his arms and held him tight as his arms closed around her, holding her to him, her feet not touching the ground.
“I was so scared,” she sobbed.
“It’s over,” he said, his hand going to the back of her head and holding it to him.
She cried for a moment, thanking the universe for delivering Crank back to her then wiggled so he would put her down. As her feet touched the ground, she looked at his face and his bloodshot eyes, his left beginning to cloud with blood. He was cold to the touch and covered in scratches and cuts, some still weeping blood, but he had never looked more handsome.
She pulled him into a kiss; a kiss that exploded with passion.
“I was afraid I’d lost you,” Lana whispered when their lips parted.
“No. I’ll never leave you.”
“What happened?”
Crank explained everything to her, including how he had tried to take Silas down and had failed.
“Is he…?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“At the stream.”
“Show me. Where’s his gun?”
Crank took Lana’s hand and led her to where Silas’s gun was still laying in the snow.
“The cops are going to show up before long to find out what’s going on with their missing officer. We’ve got to figure out what we’re going to tell them,” Lana said.
“The truth.”
“No! You were shooting an unarmed man attempting to flee. You killed him! They will arrest you for murder.”
“He was trying to kill you.”
“That’s not how the law is going to see it. Let me think.” She looked at the cabin for a long moment. “Okay. I’ve got it.”
Lana turned and hurried toward the cabin, Crank following close behind. She entered, and before he could shut the door behind them, she picked up her service weapon and turned.
“What’s that for?”
“Where’s Silas?”
“I told you, he’s still at the creek. What’s that for?” he repeated.
“Show me.”
“Not until you tell me what you’re doing,” Crank said, holding his ground.
“I’m putting an end to this, once and for all.”
“No. I can’t let you do this… whatever the hell it is you’re thinking about doing. I’m willing to go to prison if that’s what it takes.”
“Maybe, but I’m not willing to let you,” she said, her eyes hard. “Are you going to show me where he is or am I going to have to find him myself?”
Crank stared at her for a moment. “Come on.”
She hadn’t done anything yet, and showing her the body couldn’t hurt. Could it? He didn’t know what Lana had planned, but he wasn’t going to let her sacrifice herself for him.
Three minutes later they reached the stream where Silas was, still laying face down in the water. Lana waded into the stream.
“Jesus, this water is cold! Roll him over.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I’m giving you some cover. Now roll him over, dammit, before the cops get here!”
As Crank waded in, Lana waded out. “Step back,” she ordered, bringing her weapon up. She shot Silas’s dead body nine times in quick succession, emptying her weapon into his chest.
“Roll him back over, as he was,” she said as she picked up the expended brass and dropped them into her pocket.
“What the hell, Lana?”
“Here’s the story,” she explained as they struggled back up the hill. “You tell it straight, just like it happened, except you didn’t shoot Conrad in the back until he was chasing me, got it? The first shot you fired was when he turned to face you and pointed his rifle at you. You went out there to watch for him so he couldn’t get away when I called the cops. You were going to text me when you were in position, but you broke your phone in the fall. I came out after you and shot him the first time. You thought he was dead and called out to me. I came out, Silas jumped up and turned his gun on me, and you shot him again. Then he came at me, trying to use me as a hostage. I shot him, but he doesn’t stop because of his armor. I can’t make it back to the cabin, so I run, he chases me. You chase after him to save me. I get away, and he attacks you at the stream. Now it’s self-defense.”
Crank stopped. Lana continued on a few more steps before she stopped and looked back. “What?”
“You’re taking a hell of a risk. You could go to jail, or at the very least, lose your job.”
She came back to him and smiled. “It’s the only way to prevent you from going to prison. It’s a risk I have to take.” She touched him on the cheek. “Remember what you said in the cabin? That this was the only way?” She held his gaze then kissed him softly. “This is the only way.”
“Will the cops believe it?” he asked, his stomach knotting up in dread.
She smiled as she pulled her hand back from his face. “I’ll make them believe it.” She kissed him again, and then took his hand. “Come on. We can’t have much time left.”
When they reached the clearing, she walked well away from the cabin, almost to the edge of the trees, pulled the expended shells out of her pocket, tossed them into the air, then dropped her weapon into the dirt.
“What are you going to do?” Crank asked.
She smiled. “Call for help.”
As Crank watched, she walked to the still idling Jackson County Sheriff cruiser and opened the door. It was deliciously warm inside, but she didn’t have time to linger. She licked her lips then picked up the mic.
“This is Amberton Patrol Officer Lana Winter reporting an officer down! Officer down!” she said, then gave the cabin’s address.
She spent a couple of minutes talking to the Jackson County Sheriff’s Department as they rolled units, then switched the car off and shut the door. Taking a deep breath, she went in to help Crank clean up the guns before they were once again locked away.
***
Five troopers, emergency medical, and the coroner’s office arrived. After Crank was treated, the police separated Lana and Crank and questioned them. They told the story as it happened, but with the addition of Lana shooting Silas and running and the order in which Crank had shot Silas.
After more than an hour of questioning, Jackson County had enough. With all the news of the shootings coming out of Amberton, Lana had woven a story and set the scene well enough that the police had accepted her version of events with little question.
As Crank showed three of the officers around, pointing out where he’d stood, where he’d seen Silas, where Silas had fallen, Lana felt sorry for him. Even though he had shrugged into his coat, he was still shivering from his wet clothes, and his skin had a faint bluish tint.
Finally, a few minutes later, they were alone, and as Crank showered to warm up and wash off the blood and dirt, she’d sat on the bed and cried a little. It was all over. No more killing, no more hiding, no more fear of death arriving on a hiss and a snap.
She heard the water shut off and she dried her tears, wiped her eyes, and then rose. This wasn’t the time for tears; it was a time to celebrate.
She walked into the tiny bathroom just as Crank stepped out of the shower. Seeing him in his naked glory with his scrapes and bruises, and knowing what he’d done to protect her and how much he loved her, made her passions swell.
He pulled her into his arms. “I love you,” he said, watching her face. Seeing her smile bloom into existence thrilled him.
“I love you too,” she replied, beaming. He’d been cold in his wet clothes, but now he was deliciously warm. He pulled her in tighter and lowered his mouth to hers, the kiss thawing her in ways that the warm and humid bathroom couldn’t.
The kiss dissolved and she laid her head against his shoulder. “I was so afraid.”
“So was I,” he replied, his cheek resting against her head.
“Were you?”
“Yes. Afraid I would fail you, afraid he would…” His voice trailed off, the thought too terrible to put into words.
She pulled out of the embrace and looked up into his eyes. They looked dreadful—both bloodshot and one clouded with blood—but she could still see the softness and concern there.
“But you didn’t.”
He gave her a half smile. “No.”
She kissed him again; her lips soft yet firm. “I think my gallant knight deserves a reward.”
His smile spread. “Oh? And what would that be?”
Lana’s eyes crinkled as she grinned and stepped out of his embrace. “I want you to take my favor,” she said, her voice light and playful. She unbuttoned her shirt and slipped it off, holding it out with two fingers until he took it. “Now,” she added, her voice becoming more seductive as she stepped back in close to him. “I want you to take me.”