Gunfight at Spider Hollow
Ron consciously slowed his heart rate and tried to assess the situation. His brain wasn’t working as efficiently as it normally did, and this made his circumstances even more dangerous. When he’d seen the figure behind him on the cliff face, he’d acted out of reflex. Find the threat, and take it out. When he saw her fall, he felt a tinge of regret. He didn’t like having to shoot a woman, but she’d put herself in this situation. And the way she fell made him think his shot had not been a direct hit. She had turned just as he’d shot. If she hadn’t died on the way down, he might have to contend with her again. But first things first.
He turned his attention back to Jackson, who had used Jillian as a way to find better cover. He’d darted into the next outcropping of rocks, and Ron considered taking a shot. Maybe if he’d still had the use of his shooting hand, but a snap shot at a moving target with his off hand while balancing on one leg would probably just be a waste of ammunition. And he might need every round he had left.
He had to move. Jackson’s current position gave him enough cover to get behind Ron, and he was moving fast. There was no way Ron could match his speed, so he would have to rely on his brains and his training. But Jackson had received the same training. Ron pulled his homemade crutch underneath him and hobbled as quickly as he could toward a small stand of trees. It was the darkest spot in his line of vision and would afford him some cover—at least until daylight came. The full moon, which had highlighted Jillian against the cliff, had moved behind a cloud. Darkness and cover seemed like his best options.
His situation wasn’t good. The lay of the land, his opponent’s experience, and the condition of his body all worked against him. All evidence suggested that he would not make it out of this canyon alive. He looked at his watch. How long had it been since Matt and Peng had left? His mind was cloudy, and he somehow couldn’t make the calculations in his head. He stopped trying and kept moving. He hoped he could give them enough time to recover the boys, get out to the road, and get to safety. That was all he could ask for. That was enough.
He made it to the dark stand of trees and breathed in deeply through his nose. His whole right side throbbed. He needed to find cover so he could drop the crutch, steady his arm, and get off a good shot when Jackson came out of the rocks.
He quickly found the right spot—a fallen log on top of a small rise. A place to rest his arm and steady his aim. Much of the wood was rotten, and though it was still solid enough to use for his arm, it wouldn’t give him any protection from return fire. He looked around for a better spot, and then he stopped. There was movement in the rocks.
Jackson was already at the far edge of the outcropping. One short dash through the open and he would be in the rocks, which would conceal him until he could get behind Ron and have his choice of spots from which to pick him off. Ron needed to stop him here, now. But as soon as he fired, he would expose his position, and any return fire would cut right through the log.
He felt his hand shaking. I’d give my right arm to have my shooting hand back, he thought, and then he almost started laughing out loud. He forced himself to breathe, to concentrate, to focus on the mission.
Jackson darted across the opening, and Ron fired three times in rapid succession, hoping one of the shots would hit the mark. Jackson jerked unnaturally. He’d been hit but unfortunately not enough to slow him down. He disappeared into the rocks, and Ron waited for the return fire to begin. Instead he heard cursing. Maybe Ron had hit his shooting arm. At least they would be almost even now. Two one-armed shooters trying to kill each other. But Jackson still had both his legs and kept the advantage.
Just the thought of moving again made Ron cringe. The sky was lightening, the fresh air filled his lungs, and although his body hurt in multiple places, he was quite comfortable in this spot. He’d always dreamed of going out like this—pinned down on a lone hillside, sacrificing himself for his friends. He’d pictured it in his head a thousand times. It was why he had never married. Even after leaving the force, Ron had been sure this was the way he was going to go out. This canyon filled with spiders wasn’t the best spot in the world, but he figured it was good enough. He wanted so badly just to close his eyes . . .
Move. Ron snapped his eyes open, looking around to see who had spoken to him. No one was there. Jackson had gone silent, which meant he’d probably finished tending his wound and was ready to fight again.
Move. He heard it again, except he didn’t really hear it. It was more of a feeling than a voice.
He sighed. “I guess this isn’t the place,” he said quietly, and then he grabbed his crutch and began to hobble away as quickly as he could.
No sooner was he free from his nest than the bullets came. The spot where he had been lying was being peppered with shots, and the log disintegrated in a cloud of wood dust. He took one more longing look behind him as he lurched over a rise to a point of temporary safety.
The crutch jarred his entire body with every step. But he moved, not sure exactly where he was going but finding himself heading back toward the entrance to the canyon. Maybe he could get out in time to set off the trip wire and trap Jackson inside. Except he wouldn’t be trapped. There was a back way out.
He wondered whether Jillian was dead or just wounded. He hoped she wasn’t lying somewhere injured with no one to come to her aid. And then he wondered why he would hope for any such thing. Was it because she was a woman? Was it because he had heard her story of her childhood and it had almost broken his heart? Or was it just because his brain was still cloudy and jumping from one strange thought to another?
The opening to the canyon appeared in front of him, and he pushed himself to get there before it was too late. The last hundred yards would be completely unprotected, and he would be an easy target if he didn’t make it unseen.
He was almost there and nearly ready to breathe a sigh of relief when he heard the unmistakable click of a bullet being chambered.
“I think that’s far enough,” Jackson said. He must have sprinted to catch up, but he didn’t even sound winded.
Ron looked behind him. He’d been right. Jackson’s right hand was wrapped in a bloody bandage. He was holding the gun with his left hand, but his aim looked steady. Even so, if Ron dove for the opening, he might have a chance. Jackson was at least thirty yards away, not certain range for a handgun, especially shooting with the wrong hand.
“I wouldn’t even think about it if I were you.” This time the voice was different, more feminine yet harder. Jillian stepped out from the canyon opening, her gun leveled at his head. She was scraped and tattered, but she was alive. “Why don’t you take that gun out of your belt and set it on that rock over there.” Jillian spoke low and soft, almost gently now.
Ron did as she said.
“You shot me,” Jillian said, her eyes accusing him.
“You shot me first. Three times in the chest. I think you might have cracked some of my ribs.”
“Your bullet pushed me off a mountain.” Jillian turned, showing her scraped and bleeding back.
“But you didn’t die.”
“Neither did you.”
“I guess that makes us about even, then,” Ron said.
To his surprise, Jillian lowered her gun and smiled. “I guess it does.”
“Boy, am I glad to see you,” Jackson called out as he made his way toward them.
Jillian’s smile turned to a grimace. She raised her gun again, but this time she pointed it toward Jackson. “Why don’t you stop right there,” she said.
“What are you doing?” Jackson said, continuing to walk toward them.
“I said stop.” Jillian’s voice was icy, and this time Jackson did as she said. “You gave up my position on the hill.”
“He had me pinned,” Jackson said. “It was nothing personal, just good tactics. Besides, it all worked out in the end.”
Jackson said it nonchalantly, but Jillian was watching his gun. “Why don’t you put your weapon on that rock next to you,” she said.
Jackson’s eyes flashed humor, but there was a dangerous note in his voice. “Now, why would I do a thing like that?”
“Because if you don’t, I’ll put two rounds in your forehead. You know I’ll do it, so don’t waste any more time.”
Jackson’s humor disappeared as he placed his gun gently on the rock. “What are you doing, babe? You know we have a mission to complete.”
Jillian barely moved as she adjusted the barrel of the gun and fired.
Jackson dropped, holding his ankle and swearing. “You shot me,” he screamed.
Jillian looked at Ron, smiled slightly, and then turned back to Jackson.
“You called me babe,” she said. “I warned you never to do that. Besides, it’s even now, and I didn’t even hit the bone.”
“What do you mean, it’s even?” Jackson yelled. “You’ve gone completely crazy.”
“Two Deltas trying to kill each other, both with wounds in their shooting hand and a leg. Both with their weapons several feet away from them. One young and cocky, one older and experienced. I couldn’t draw up a better scenario if I tried, and I don’t think I’ll have this opportunity again. I wonder who’s going to come out on top.”
“You’re setting up a duel?” Jackson’s voice was incredulous.
“That’s right, cowboy. On the count of three, go for your weapons.”
Ron could see by the look in Jillian’s eyes that she was not joking. Jackson was making a lot of noise, but his leg wound looked to be not much more than a scratch. Despite what Jillian said, the odds were not even. He’d lost a lot more blood than Jackson. And Jackson was not going to wait for the count of three.
“One.” Jillian’s voice rang out clear in the morning air as Jackson lunged for his weapon. There was no way Ron would be able to beat him to the gun, so he didn’t even try. Instead, he reached behind his back and grabbed his knife. The throw with his left hand felt awkward, but the knife flew straight and true. Jackson looked up at the impact, his eyes wide with surprise, and then he fell forward on his face. Dead.
Ron waited for the bullet to come from Jillian.
“Huh,” she said. “That was unexpected.”
When the shot still didn’t come, Ron turned to look at Jillian. She was sitting on her haunches in the morning sun, her eyes on Jackson’s body. “Do you think he would have made it?” she said finally.
“What do you mean?”
“If Jackson hadn’t been kicked out, do you think he would have made it in Delta Force?”
Ron didn’t hesitate. “No.”
“Why not? He was skilled. And he was clever. If you hadn’t had that hidden knife, he would have had you dead to rights.”
“Delta’s not just about having the right skills. Jackson was more skilled than a lot of guys I knew in the unit, but being part of Delta is more about the heart. A real operative never would have given you up like he did. A real operative would have drawn the fire and given you a clear shot at my back. That not only would have been the smart move, but it would have been the right move. If you’re not willing to die for your comrades, you never become a real Delta. Jackson never had a chance. He didn’t care for anyone except himself.”
Jillian picked a piece of long grass out of the dirt and began to chew on it. “You never expected to make it out of this canyon, did you? You thought you were going to die.”
“I thought it was a distinct possibility.”
“Then why’d you try?”
“Because it gave Matt and the boys the best chance to get away. Because it’s what I was trained to do in Delta.”
“Why’d you leave, then?” Jillian said. “If Delta was so great, why did you abandon it?”
Ron shrugged. “I guess I didn’t trust the people calling the shots anymore. I didn’t trust that they had the best interest of the unit or even the people we were assigned to protect. It started to feel more like a game than a cause, and we were just pawns on a chessboard. I’d still give my life for any one of those guys, but I couldn’t stand around watching them get played.”
Jillian nodded as if the answer satisfied her. “You married?” she asked.
Ron was caught off guard by the question. “No.”
“Why not? I thought you Mormons were big on marriage.”
Ron didn’t know exactly how to answer. All of his reasons tumbled through his mind, and then suddenly he heard a voice, like his own voice, faintly in the back of his head. Giving your life doesn’t mean dying for someone. It means living for them. We all give our lives for something. We just need to decide what that is.
“You still with me, Delta? I asked you a question.”
Ron shook his head to clear it and chuckled to himself.
“What’s so funny?”
“I think you just helped me figure something out. I thought I had good reasons for not being married, but they don’t seem legitimate anymore.”
“Is that a proposal?”
Was Jillian hitting on him? “I don’t think that would work out very well,” he said. “Considering the circumstances.”
“Yeah, probably not.” She had a glint in her eye. “You gonna dive for your gun now?”
He’d thought about it. Catch her while she was talking. Catch her while her defenses were down. It might be the best chance he would have at getting out of this thing. Instead, he shook his head. “I don’t think so.”
“Why not?”
“I guess I just don’t feel like shooting you again.”
“I’d probably shoot you first anyway.”
“You probably would.”
Jillian rose and spat the piece of grass she’d been chewing on the ground. It appeared that their conversation was over. She raised her gun and pointed it directly at his head. “I want you to do something for me,” she said.
“Let me guess. You want me to stay dead this time?”
“Good answer, but the wrong one.” A smile played across her lips, then disappeared, and she looked at him intently. “I want you to tell Joey something for me. I want you to tell him not to let the idiot adults in his life ruin it for him. They’re not worth it. Tell him to sit back and enjoy the ride no matter what. I wish I would have.”
“You’re not going to shoot me?”
“I don’t feel like shooting you again either.” Jillian lowered her gun and stuck it into the back of her belt.
“What about the job?”
“What job? I’m a free agent. I choose the jobs I take, and I’m choosing to opt out on this one. I don’t let others control my actions.” She smiled at him again. “I think you helped me figure something out too. See you later, Delta. Don’t forget to give Joey my message.” Jillian turned away from him and began jogging toward the back pass, where she’d come in.
Ron staggered backward and rested against a rock. He watched her as she glided away through the morning mist like she was moving in and out of one of his dreams. It sounded like she was humming as she ran, a tune that was both familiar and out of place. His cloudy and overstressed brain struggled to identify the song, and then he had it.
“It’s a Small World.”