“I don't think so,” John said. “Something in my eye. Did I get shot in my eye?”

“I don't think so.” Tom cradled John's chin in his hand. “My God. You got a chunk of wood in that eye. Big as my finger.”

“Bastards,” the Old Man said, his voice only a little beyond a whisper. Tom Sisson walked up to where the brothers crouched over their father.

“Who the hell are they?” John asked.

“That right there is Kane Wootan,” Tom said. “I'd say you shot him all to death. Wish it had been me.”

The Old Man began to cough blood out of his mouth and nose.

“We got to get him to the doctor,” John said.

“No,” Tom said. “He don't need no doctor. Wouldn't live to see one. Get a blanket on him. Try to keep him warm. I'm going to check these others.”

Sisson handed John the blanket from around his shoulders.

“You all right, Sisson?” John asked. Sisson only nodded.

“Holy Christ,” Tom said. “We just killed us the Graham County Sheriff's Department.”

“Are there any more?”

“Not that I can see. Don't know, though. Don't go standing up, just in case. Where the hell were you, Sisson?”

“In there.” Sisson motioned toward the cabin with his head. He had a .30-06 in his hand.

“You shoot?”

Sisson nodded. He had the glassy look of a man who has seen what he feared most in the world.

“Hit anything?”

Sisson just stared down at the Old Man. “Dying,” he said.

“Guess that's right,” Tom said.

“What are we going to do?” John asked.

“Get out of here,” Tom said. “We got to get the hell out of here.”

“We can't leave the Old Man here.”

“Got to. We can't take him.”

The Old Man looked from Tom to John, back to Tom, and then to Sisson. He looked surprised. Sad and surprised. He nodded. “Go,” he said.

“We won't leave you,” John said.

The Old Man shook his head. “Go.” Then he raised his right hand slowly and pointed toward the mine. “Mine.”

“Yeah,” Tom said. “That's the mine. Our mine.”

“He wants to go to the mine,” Sisson said. “He don't want to stay here. He wants to go to the mine.”

“That what you want, Old Man?” Tom asked.

Jeff nodded. “Bastards,” he said.

Tom wasn't sure who the Old Man referred to. “Sisson, you want to help me carry him to the mine?”

“I'll do it,” John said.

“You should go clean yourself up. You look worse than dead. We got to look at your wounds.”

“No,” John said. “I'll carry him.”

Tom started to argue, then said, “Get his feet. I'll get his arms.”

They carried him the couple hundred yards from the front of the cabin to the entrance to the mine. They laid him down just inside the entrance. “You still alive?” Tom asked.

The Old Man wheezed, and more blood came out of his mouth.