Most people in Serenity’s situation would be paralyzed by panic, but the former soldier is methodically rubbing calcium gluconate over every exposed part of her skin. My God, this woman has guts.
“What about you guys?” I ask. “Were either of you hit?”
“We’re good,” Mia assures me. “I already called 911 on my cell.”
Sure enough, I hear sirens from the direction of the sheriff’s department. I only hope Billy Byrd isn’t in one of those cars.
“I need to check on Walt,” I tell them. “Take care of Serenity.”
“We’ve got her,” Mia assures me, but her eyes tell me I shouldn’t hold out any hope for Walt Garrity.
One look at my father’s old friend tells me he hasn’t long to live. Walt’s got open limb fractures and a severe crush injury to his skull above his left ear. The full weight of the van slammed into him, face-on, and both axles rolled over him after that. I can’t even begin to guess at his internal injuries. Remarkably, Walt’s eyes are open, and when I kneel beside him and move into his field of vision, I see a flicker of recognition.
“Walt?” I say softly. “Can you hear me, buddy?”
He groans but does not speak.
“That was something you just did, Cap’n Garrity.”
The old Ranger licks his lips, then works his mouth around for a few seconds. “Annie,” he finally croaks out. “Is our little gal okay?”
In an instant my throat closes, and hot tears suffuse my eyes. I can’t speak, so I simply nod, leaning forward to be sure Walt can see me.
“She’s okay,” I finally manage to say. “You saved her. Mia, too.”
Something like a smile animates Walt’s weathered face. Then he says, “Not bad shooting . . . for an old man with cataracts. Huh?”
“Olympic class, I’d say.”
“The windshield deflected my first shot . . . but I drilled him with the second.”
“Stop trying to talk.”
The faintest of smiles again. “Hell, boy . . . if I don’t say it now, I never will.”
“The ambulance is on its way.”
At this Walt actually croaks a laugh. “Tell those boys to turn back to the barn. I’m an old medic, remember? I know when a ticket’s been punched.”
Kneeling over this old man, I realize that if he hadn’t shown up at the Valhalla hunting camp and killed Alphonse Ozan after I killed Forrest Knox, I’d have died in Forrest’s office back in December.
“Walt . . . I owe you so much, man.”
“That’s right . . . you do.” He winks, which sends a rivulet of blood into his eye socket. As carefully as I can, I wipe it away with my shirtsleeve.
“Walt, what were you doing by that church? You were at the right place at exactly the right time. Was that just luck?”
“Luck, hell.” His eyes strain to move and find mine. “I’ve been with you every day. Every night. Just like your daddy told me to. No luck involved.”
A strange feeling goes through me, almost déjà vu. “Every night? What are you taking about?”
“You saw me . . . you just don’t remember. The old man walking his dog?”
As I stare in disbelief, Walt’s lips crack into something between a grin and a grimace. “Wasn’t even my dog. Just a damn mutt I tied some string to . . . looked less suspicious. He dragged me all over downtown.”
“Walt, what the hell?”
“No time now . . . Here’s how you’re gonna pay your debt to me. Swallow your pain . . . and your pride. And take care of your daddy. You hear me?”
Unbelievable. At the end of his life, this man isn’t giving me a message for his wife or his children. He’s trying to break down the wall between me and my father.
“I hear you, Walt.”
“Bullshit.” His eyes look fearful, desperate. “We all make mistakes, son. Tom made some big ones. I made some bad ones in my day, too. And you’re making one now. If you don’t wake up soon, by the time you realize it, it’ll be too late to do anything about it.”
I gently squeeze his hand.
“I’m done preachin’,” he groans. “The damn pain’s breakin’ through. And civilian paramedics don’t carry morphine.”
“Well . . . I’m not shooting you.”
That’s probably the only thing I could have said that would make Walt laugh. But laugh he does, a rough chuckle. And before he’s done, the light in his eyes winks out. The last air in his lungs passes over my face as it leaves him. I don’t know whether his heart gave out or his brain stem swelled too much or an embolus hit his pulmonary artery, and I don’t care. I’m just glad I didn’t have to watch him die in agony.
The sirens have built to a mind-numbing wail, but somehow I’m only just hearing them. As Annie and Mia pull me to my feet, I see a paramedic checking Serenity, who’s now sitting in the van doorway with her feet on the pavement. Her naked breasts hang in plain sight, and she plainly doesn’t give a damn.
As the second paramedic kneels to check Walt, I slip my pistol back into my holster and say, “He’s gone.”
“I gotta check his vitals, regardless.”
A sheriff’s cruiser squeals to a stop, and two sheriff’s deputies run over to us and ask me what happened. I just point up Washington Street.
“That’s where all the shooting was. You’ve got multiple victims down.”
Both deputies run back to their cruiser, which peels around the block, headed for my house.
Taking Annie and Mia by the hand, I walk over to Serenity, who looks up and gives us a strained smile. She’s obviously in a great deal of pain.
“How much acid did he get on you?” I ask.
She shrugs. “He splashed my right upper arm pretty good. Got a little on my titty.”
Annie actually giggles at this.
“Does it burn?” I ask.
“Oh, it burns. But it beats the hell out of being dead in the street.”
I shake my head at her bravado.
“I got that gel on there pretty fast,” Tee says. She gives Mia a tight but grateful smile. “You saved my ass with that, girl.”
Mia’s face goes pink. “I’m just glad I had it.”
“Maybe that’ll spare me the complications Keisha had,” Tee adds softly.
I nod, praying she’s right.
“Have you heard anything about Tim and his guys?” Tee asks.
I shake my head, recalling our bodyguards lying motionless on the street.
“I’m still not sure what happened,” she says. “Sounded like shotguns at first contact. But I didn’t see any blood.”
“I thought you were hit.”
“I was. They must have been using some kind of nonlethal rounds. Beanbags or rubber bullets. So maybe the guys aren’t hurt too bad.”
“I don’t think I’m bleeding either,” I realize, twisting to examine my shirt. “But I couldn’t move at all. How the hell did you manage to get up?”
“Army reflexes, baby. I hit the deck at that first bang, when they shot Tim. They only caught my arm with that next shot.”
“I think they killed our driver, though.”
Serenity nods, her expression bleak. “Yeah, the sound was different. And I . . .” She trails off, but I remember the second biker dropping like a dead deer after her shots. The one who was trying to help snatch Annie.
That’s who they were after, say Serenity’s eyes. You know that, right?
I nod again, then pull Annie close.
“Hey?” Tee says.
“Yeah?”
“Who was that guy in the white hat? Was it Walt Garrity?”