One bullet cracked into the tree next to me, and my lungs burned cold as I pushed myself faster. I saw her now, through the trees, standing slack-limbed and staring. The wood of the handle dug into my palms, the shovel was slowing me down, but it was also my only weapon.

“Rev!” I could see her eyes now, she sprinted forward, gun raised past my shoulder. “Rev!”

“Go, go…” I sacrificed precious breath to shout at her, but it was useless. Another bullet zinged at my heels.

“Stop! I’m gonna shoot! Stop!” Misty screamed. Whoever was behind me was close enough that I could hear them crashing over the log that had nearly tripped me up. I hadn’t gotten a good look at my chaser, being a bit distracted by avoiding another bullet wound. All I knew was that we hadn’t lost that black van after all. The next gunshot came from ahead of me, and a grunting skid had me finally turning, finally slowing. That, and reaching her. I grabbed her arm, momentum pulling me forward.

“We gotta go, Mis…”

“What the fuck are you doing, Michael?” Misty still held the gun out, aiming at the figure I could now see on the ground. I could see, but I couldn’t believe. God damn. There wasn’t anything sacred anymore. Misty licked her lips. “Stay down.”

“Did you get him?” I asked, my first instinct to go and help him. What kind of man lets his best friend bleed out in the middle of the woods on a beautiful day?

“I don’t think so,” Misty said. “I think I just spooked him, and he tripped.”

“Don’t shoot,” Big Mickey yelled from his place on the ground. He rolled up, onto his knees. His gun hung lazily in his fingers.

“Put the gun down,” I hollered. “What’re you doing, Mick? Put that damn thing away and tell me what you’re doing.”

“What’s it look like I’m doing?” Mickey barked. “I’m trying to save her ass.”

Save her? From what? Misty shot me a glance as confused as my own mind. He wouldn’t drop that gun.

“Tell him to drop the gun,” I said, thinking he might listen if the order came from the girl with her sights on him. Before she could say a word, he was talking again.

“Misty, you gotta come with me,” he said. “Jackie’s on his way here, and if we don’t put some miles under us before he arrives, we’re both dead.”

“Why are you shooting at us?” Misty yelled. He was just far enough away to make shouting necessary. I didn’t like that; if anyone else was waiting in that black van, if anyone was on their way, they’d hear us well enough to find us blind. I held the shovel’s handle in both fists, ready to swing it if that turned out to be a feasible defense maneuver.

“Tell him to drop it,” I hissed again.

“There is no us, Misty. He’s with Jackie,” Mickey shouted. “Misty, Rev’s not on your side. He’s never been.”

“Bullshit,” I barked, taking a step forward, anger making my blood rush to my head. “Fuckin’ lying-ass, traitor-ass motherfucker!”

“What are you saying, Mickey?” Misty asked. I whipped around to look at her. She wasn’t buying that. No way she was buying that. It was obviously bullshit. Mickey came out here to shoot us both - except we’d gotten the upper hand, and now he had to figure out something else.

“Misty,” I said, taking a step forward, anger making my shoulders bunch, my knuckles white around the shovel. Her eyes were wide, and she glanced at my hands briefly before she looked me in the eye.

“Jackie hired him,” Mickey yelled. “Hired him to get close to you. You led him right to the money, Misty. You were damn good at your job, Rev.”

“Shut up,” I shouted, moving toward Misty. Mickey flinched, clutched his gun and aimed it at me. Only the fresh memory of my last encounter with a bullet got me to stop moving. Mickey and I both turned back to Misty. She was shaking a little, her eyes glancing from me to Mickey and back again. Shit. Shit.

“Rev…” her voice quivered along with her lips.

“He’s lying,” I argued. “He’s lying, Misty. It’s so obvious. How could I be working for Jackie? The cops are after me! I got shot!”

“There aren’t any damn cops after you,” Mickey shouted. “You got her out of town so they could torch her house, and you brought her back so she’d lead you to the money. He’s a crafty bastard, Misty. But he’s a killer. Don’t let him get any fucking closer. He’ll hit you with that goddamned shovel… Rev, if you touch a hair on her head I’ll shoot your fucking dick off so help me God.”

“How the hell would you know any of this, Mickey?” Misty asked. “Don’t tell me Leathers was involved in this shit, too!”

“Leathers likes money as much as anyone else,” Mickey yelled.

“And you?”

“Misty, don’t listen to him, please, for chrissake…”

“I always liked you,” Mickey said, humbling his voice now, his shoulders melting a bit. Putting on one hell of a show. “You know, if it wasn’t for your pops…well, I just couldn’t see all this shit happening to you and not stop it. They’re gonna kill me, Misty. They’ve already tried. We’ve got to get out of here now. I’ve gotta shoot him. You understand? I have to, Misty…”

“Misty!” I turned away from Mickey and dropped the shovel to the ground.

Yeah, I just turned my back on Mickey, but what the hell. If she didn’t believe me…if, after all this, she still didn’t trust me….maybe I was better off shot in the back by my best friend, in front of the woman I loved. I know you don’t end up in jail by being good, but I couldn’t imagine what I’d done that was so bad I deserved this. I couldn’t live knowing Misty took his word over mine. I couldn’t live knowing that her mistake got us both killed. Cause he would kill her; sure as shit, he would.

“Please,” I said, my final plea, her eyes on mine, just a little bit wet, her mouth twisted. I was struck, one last time, by the way she reminded me of a doe. In the woods, especially, it was uncanny. Beautiful, brown-eyed, hair moving in the breeze, only scared enough to stay alive. Sprung and ready to jump away, soundless and surefooted. If she was the last thing I ever saw…

“Rev! No…”

Two shots. I didn’t feel anything. Not a thing. Not cold, not warm. Not pain. Certainly not pleasure. I crumpled forward on my knees, waited to start feeling something. Whatever I felt, I was sure it’d be the last thing ever. I hoped it wasn’t too bad. Misty was running fast to my side. She was saying something, but I could only hear my own ears ringing.

“I love…”

“Get up, stupid!” Her muffled scream reached me as she yanked on my arm. Poor thing. She didn’t understand. I couldn’t get up. I was shot in the back. I was dying. I was…

“Let’s get this fucking money and go,” she snapped, and somehow lugged me to my feet. I still didn’t feel anything. At least, nothing unusual. I looked around my shoulder, saw Mickey’s body crumpled over, his face in a fern. Misty was pulling me, reaching down to grab the shovel.

“We’ve gotta find this the dogwood tree…”

Sound was coming back to me, slowly. And slowly, I was beginning to come to terms with the fact that I was not dying. Not even close. I wasn’t even shot.

“What happened? Misty, what…”

“Talk and walk,” she prompted, pulling faster. We stalked through the woods, away from the tree, away from my best friend’s body. “I think he knew I wasn’t going to let him kill you. He swung the gun round on me, I shot him first, his bullet hit nothing but the sky. Do you think he was being blackmailed, too?”

Big Mickey. The fucking traitor. I could have laughed. Everyone else betrayed us, why not him? He was perfect. Close enough to know what we were up to. Close enough to get even closer. Shit. Shit.

I made a silent vow that from now on I would only trust barbers, bartenders, and bikers.

And her.

Which reminded me….

“You almost believed him,” I said, still letting her pull me, the ground feeling ethereal under my feet. She glanced back at me, her eyes an apology.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “Just for a minute, I thought…maybe…I just…I’m sorry, Rev. This whole thing has my head spinning.”

That hurt. A lot. A whole fucking lot. Even for a minute, it hurt. Petulant, I pulled my hand away.

“Why?”

“I don’t know,” she said, sighing as she stopped walking. “I guess… it wouldn’t be the first time today I found out someone I love betrayed me.”

“I would never believe that about you.”

She looked pissed. She had no right. I had the right to be pissed. She stepped to me, putting a hand on my chest.

“We’re not in high school, Rev,” she said. “This is real fucking life. My life was on the line and not in any metaphorical fucking way. I’m sorry. I’m sorry that for one little moment I was willing to listen to some crazy-ass lies about you, and wonder if they were true. Now if you don’t mind, I’ve never killed a man before, and there’s a guy laying there with a bullet in his chest. I really am sorry, Rev. And you can be pissed at me all you want. But we need to get that money, and get the hell out of here because I don’t think he’s lying about Jackie. Use that big fucking brain of yours to try and understand.”

I wanted to be pissed, but she was right about at least one thing. We did need to get out of there. My eyes roamed over her shoulder, in the direction she was pulling me. And my eyes landed on something that momentarily made me forget everything.

“A dogwood?” Misty whipped around, her eyes following where my finger pointed.

“Oh, Dad,” she sighed, shaking her head. I took a step forward, and could see the slightest, saddest smile on her lips. Stuck in the ground, a cross shaped plank of wood in a ring of salted earth. A sad little puppy was painted on it. Misty looked at me, shrugged, still with that sad smile. “One last dad joke. Start digging.”