CHAPTER 70
Tracy used her own body weight to counter Roy Calloway’s dead weight on the other end of the chain. When she had enough slack to free the chain from the hook that had been holding him up, she slowly lowered him to the ground. Calloway muttered incoherently. His breathing came in short, raspy breaths. He seemed to be slipping in and out of consciousness. He was alive, but Tracy did not know for how long.
Across the room, House lay face down on the ground. The first bullet had pierced his sternum, stopping his forward progress. Before he’d hit the ground, Tracy’s second shot had pierced him two inches to the left of the first bullet, exploding his heart. The third bullet had left a hole in his forehead and blown out the back of his skull.
She found the key to the manacles in House’s pants pocket. After freeing herself, she cut House’s discarded clothing into strips and tied a tourniquet around Calloway’s leg. She did not attempt to remove the bear trap, fearing that she would further open the wound and Calloway would slip into shock, if he did not bleed to death. She cradled Calloway’s head in her lap. “Roy? Roy?”
Calloway opened his eyes. Though the room remained bitterly cold, sweat beaded on his face, as if he were running a deadly fever. “House?” he whispered, voice weak.
“Dead.”
Calloway gave her a thin-lipped smile. Then his eyes fluttered closed.
“Roy?” She slapped at his cheek. “Roy? Does anyone else know we’re here?”
Calloway whispered, “Dan.”