The walk back toward the road hurt like shit, and he could feel blood leaking from his wound and tracking down the back of his leg. He had to stop every ten steps or so to let the pain edge away. Then he had to argue with his mom that, no, he was not going to make others hump him out on their backs.

Mom did stay close to him, though—to catch him, he guessed, in case he fell.

“Sorry to put you through all of this,” Caleb said. “I was hoping Luke would come and get you.”

“Your brother loves you.”

“Yeah, I know.” Caleb saw his opportunity. “So does my other brother.”

Mom made a growling sound. It was her frustrated sound. “I know you miss him,” she said. “And I know that you’re worried about him. We’re all worried about each other. Joe McCrea told me that he overheard you and Luke talking.”

“Where is he, anyway? Joe, I mean. He’s gonna be pissed that you came up here without him.”

“I couldn’t wait. Time was ticking.”

Caleb lowered his voice. “So you brought Ty and Mike?”

“They volunteered. You should thank them.”

Caleb’s eyes got scratchy. “I should thank you, too.”

“You’re alive. That’s enough.”

“My ass really hurts.”

Victoria laughed. “Wait till Doc Rory pours disinfectant into it.”

A ripple of gunshots shattered the quiet from somewhere off to the left, stripping leaves and branches from the trees up ahead—up where Luke was walking with Ty and Mike. One of them cried out in agony. “I’m hit! Oh, shit, I’m hit.”

“Jesus, he’s hit bad!”

Victoria dropped to her belly and fired blindly into the trees, toward the source of the incoming.

Caleb dropped next to her. “I don’t have a gun,” he said. “God damn it!”

“Check on your brother,” Victoria said. She shot some more, providing Caleb with covering fire. “Get back to the truck.”

“I’ll check on Luke,” he said. “But I’m coming back with a gun.”

Caleb didn’t wait for the argument. He pressed his body as deep into the forest floor as he could, trying to remain invisible, and trying equally hard to ignore the searing pain from his ass cheek every time he moved. Behind him, his mom was burning through dozens of rounds of ammo to keep their attackers’ heads down. Up ahead, up where Luke and the others were, more gunfire erupted.

Jesus, he thought. Don’t burn through it all now. We’re gonna need some to actually kill the sons of bitches.

Thirty yards is a long way to crawl through vines, bushes and stickers. It’s longer still after you’ve been shot. “Luke!” Caleb shouted. “Luke, are you okay?”

“Mike’s been hit!” Luke yelled back. “It’s bad.”

“Hold your fire. I’m coming to you!”

“Make it fast!”