Page 101 of Robin and Marian
“That was disappointing!” Alan said.
Robin was on him before he could try it again. She stared up at them dizzily, and felt a little detached as she watched the embers drop from the loft—the flames had gotten into the roof, while below, the machinery screamed out its dying throes. There was so much that could go wrong—something was always moving on the machinery—log feeders and saws.
The men wrestled around it, knocking pieces of wood from the tables, bouncing off John’s truck, and narrowly missing life-threatening injuries—but none of them would last much longer if they didn’t get out soon. A rafter fell from above and landed onto the rotator belt, spraying splinters and flames over them. Alan broke off a splintered piece of it and thrust it at Robin like a fiery stake to the heart.
Robin ducked away, his gaze on Marian as if begging her to get out while she could. She tried to comply. Her body felt stiff. Groaning, she felt the chain at her back and knocked it away, dragging herself up to her elbows. And then Robin was beside her, pulling at her shoulders, his fingers—strangely—going to the chain behind her shoulder.
Before she could figure out what he was going to do, Alan hit him from behind. Robin fell over Marian and she screamed when she saw Alan come at him again while raising the splintered wood over his head to impale him. Robin rolled to his side, throwing his arm over her, trying to protect her until the very end. Alan thrust the stake down. Robin blocked it with his cast and hissed out when the flaming edges burned into his arm.
“You were my friend!” Robin shouted.
“Friend?” Alan’s eyes bulged angrily. “You thought you could throw a little money at me and I was yours—I was never yourfriend.” He lifted the flaming wood and tried to spear Robin through the same time Robin reached out to grab it above the flames. He pulled Alan down with it, sending him crashing headlong into the concrete. Alan’s forehead bounced against the floor and he lifted himself up, bleeding from his scrapes. Marian backed up as far as she could while Robin wrestled him down like a greased pig.
“It was the Engler F.F., wasn’t it?” Robin growled into his neck. “You just couldn’t let it go. But it belonged to your wife, huh! You lived off her—you parasite!”
Alan roared out. And then when Alan tried to get away, Robin took the chain that had dug into Marian’s back and he hooked it around the crazed man’s shoulders. Before Alan could fight it off, Robin pulled a lever and Alan slid across the wet sawdust like he was timber going to the trimming table. He clawed the ground, screaming.
“Stop!” a man’s voice shouted over them. Shots rang out, and the box controlling the machinery sparked out and everything rolled to a stop, including Alan who dropped his head against the ground, his shoulders heaving in fury.
The sheriff kept his gun up, standing at the door of the mill. He’d been the one to rescue Alan and he watched Robin like he was a wannabe murderer. Marian knew what it looked like—Robin wrapping a chain around the usually mild-mannered Alan would seem like the work of a serial killer.
Water sprayed through the mill from the firefighters. It joined the failing sprinklers above them. “Robin!” the sheriff shouted. “Put your hands up. All of you come out of there!”
“Watch out for him!” Alan shouted out. He peeled the chain away from his shoulders. The sheriff kept his gun trained on Robin while Alan hissed aspersions against him like a snake. “He’s got a gun.”
“Stop!” Marian cried. Alan was trying to get them shot with this talk. “He doesn’t. Alan tried to kill us.”
“These two killed my wife!” Alan shouted.
“She’s not dead,” the sheriff said evenly. “She’s alive.”
Alan turned silent.
Marian saw Scarlett outside of the smoke, a blanket around her shoulders joined by Little John’s arms while she cried into his broad chest. Alan’s plan to frame them for her death wasn’t going to work, and so Alan did the next best thing. He picked up a wrench and ran at Robin; his face was purple with rage. Marian’s hands flew up in warning, and when Robin didn’t turn in time, she screamed.
The sheriff switched directions and shot Alan down. The wrench clattered to the ground moments before Alan flopped dully next to it, blood pooling under his chest. The lawman had saved Robin’s life. Alan was dead. The firemen rushed around them and Marian felt hands on her back and arms as she was carried into the clean air. They deposited Robin onto the sidewalk next to her. His body was blackened with blood, sweat, and soot—that must mean hers was too.
“Is there anyone else in there?” a fireman asked her.
She shook her head. “No.”
“Robin!” Scarlett stumbled to her brother, the wool blanket trailing behind her like a cape. Blood caked her scalp. She grasped Robin in a hug. Then she included Marian in that too. “Thank you,” she cried. “Thank you for getting me out of there.”
“It was John,” Marian said. “He crashed his truck through those doors.” A paramedic went to work on her leg and she winced.
“I know,” Scarlett said low. “I can’t believe…” she started to cry, and Robin stood, draping his arm around his sister. He let her dissolve into tears while he tried to comfort her. It had been a long, horrible night.
“Scarlett!” Midge wriggled out of the patrol car and ran up to them, tugging at his niece’s shirt. Scarlett gave out a glad cry and clutched at him too. Marian had been half-afraid that Alan had succeeded in following Guy’s orders, but Midge was alive and well.
The sheriff talked low to his deputy who’d driven up, just as the firemen pulled Alan’s still body from the mill. Scarlett’s hands tightened on her brother and she brought Midge closer to her, refusing to look as they covered Alan with a sheet and hauled him away. The sheriff came over to Robin, his forehead creased in deep concern. “I admit I’m surprised at you. I followed your tracker. You’re not supposed to be here…” He cleared his throat a few times, “…but I’m glad you were.”
Scarlett pulled from her brother and caught the sheriff in a hug too. The sheriff stiffened, but then rubbed her back in a way only a father could. It brought fresh tears from her. “Thank you for keeping us all alive,” she said.
“How do you like that?” Robin muttered, but he wasn’t too upset.
Little John stepped up behind them and collected Scarlett from the sheriff in his own powerful hug. She melted against him. “You were right,” she whispered. “I’m sorry I slapped you, John. The whole time I was in that warehouse, I just kept thinking about you… and, and, you were right… about everything…”
“No, no.” He slid a comforting hand down her back, “I shouldn’t have said anyth—” But Scarlett stopped his words with a sweet kiss on his cheek before stepping back. He watched her with such tenderness that no one mistook his regard for her, though Marian doubted that Scarlett would see that yet. She’d need to heal before moving on from whatever relationship she’d had with Alan. For now, Little John would be what she needed most—a friend.
