Page 110 of A Deeper Darkness
The shadow grew larger. She was about to take the shot when a deep voice called from outside the cabin, a voice she recognized.
“Stop! Police! Put down your weapon and step away from the door.”
She nearly fainted in relief.
“Fletch,” she called out, voice cracking. “It’s me. It’s Sam. I’m inside the cabin.”
And the world exploded into fragments of light.
Chapter Fifty-Seven
Savage River
Detective Darren Fletcher
The forest service kid had driven the Jeep off the trail about a quarter of a mile down the road, so they’d had to hoof it up the hill the last bit. Fletcher had approached the house slowly, cautiously. It was dark, and he thought no one was around. Disappointment and worry crowded into his thoughts—he’d missed her. Shit, maybe he’d chosen the wrong campsite. Then he heard the distinct crackling of campfire embers. A dog’s throaty bark covered the noise he made as he moved toward the house. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, saw the outline of a man opening the front door. Surreptitiously. Fletcher announced himself, heard Sam’s responding shout and then all hell broke loose.
Fletcher wasn’t ready for the shots. When Sam called out he’d started to lower his weapon, and that nearly cost him everything.
The man who’d been going into the doorway began to fire. Fletcher instinctively ducked, but quickly realized the man was firing into the house, not back out toward Fletch. So he called out again, screaming this time, running as fast as he could toward the door. His Maglite showed the outline of the man, and he had a clear shot through the open door. He squeezed the trigger once, and the firing inside the house stopped. Sam was shrieking. He didn’t know if she was hit or scared, but the simple fact that she could call out was good news. She wasn’t dead. Yet.
Two steps closer now, and he was at the base of the steps. A shot came from his right. Fletcher swung his weapon toward the new shooter. The two other tac team guys were bringing up the rear, they’d cleared the woods around the house as they came in. It was either them, or…
A voice called out, strong and true. “Thor,steh!” The dog whined but stopped barking. “Braver hund.Detective Fletcher, this is Alexander Whitfield. I have Colonel Culpepper in my sights. Permission to fire.”
“Where are you, Whitfield?”
“Eighty degrees to your east, sir. I have a clear shot in my scope. You hit him, but he’s not dead. I’d like to remedy that situation.”
The man’s voice had a cadence to it, a bit flat on the vowels. Not local.
“I’d like to keep him alive if we can, Sergeant. You down with that?”
“I suppose I don’t have a choice, do I, sir?”
“No, you don’t. Come on out. I’ve got him now.”
“I’m just gonna hurt him a little bit then. Make sure he doesn’t pull any punches. Firing.”
A single shot rang out, and Fletcher flinched. He didn’t like people shooting around him in the dark. Jesus. Fucking yahoo.
A screaming groan emanated from the cabin, and Fletcher took the opportunity to rush inside. He sprayed the beam of his Maglite across the room. Culpepper was on the living room floor, moaning in agony. Fletcher went to him immediately, kicked his weapon away, then looked for Sam. He couldn’t see her, and felt the panic slide in. But then, in the meager light, she stumbled toward him with three children in tow. Sam was trembling, shaking, and when he put his arms around her, he felt the slick stickiness of blood on her shirt.
He stepped back, holding both her arms. “Are you hit? Are you okay?”
“No. I’m okay. It’s his blood.” She gestured to her right. “He’s been hit a couple of times. But the kids are just fine.”
“Jesus, there were kids in here?”
Sam nodded. “Maggie’s.”
Fletcher resisted the urge to pull her into his arms.
“Thank God you’re all right. That all of you are all right.”
Sam smiled at him, then turned back to the kids.
“Come on, guys. We’re going to go outside and find your mom. Don’t look, okay?”
