“I hope Gary has made himself useful while I was gone,” he muttered.
My leg bumped into something hard that was leaning against the sliding door. I looked down. A mallet—a heavy, wood maul was once an essential tool for every farmer. Thankfully, Gary had not seen fit to rid himself of this one. I picked it up and my arms sagged with the weight of it.
Zack stepped inside the barn and squinted toward the back where he had left me. “What the—” he began, but he didn’t have time to finish his sentence.
Swinging the mallet up and over, I brought it down on the head of this despicable human being. He dropped like a rock and sprawled full length at the door of the barn.
He didn’t move when I nudged him with my foot. “Oh, dear Lord, I hope to goodness I haven’t killed him,” I whispered. But I’d worry about that later. I didn’t have time right now. Gary would be coming out soon. He and Zack had planned to decide what to do with me when Zack got back. I didn’t want Gary to see Zack knocked out cold on the floor of the barn.
Would Gary see me if I made a run for it? Maybe that wouldn’t be wise. What I had done to Zack I could also do to Gary as he came through the door but I was going to have to get Zack out of sight. Then maybe while Gary was bending over Zack, I could knock him out, too.
Somewhere in the back of my mind I realized I wasn’t thinking clearly. How long would Zack stay unconscious? If Gary could see Zack’s prostrate body before he got into the barn, he would be on guard.
I grabbed Zack’s boot and tugged. He moved a couple of inches. I pulled again and Zack slid another two inches. Grunting and sweating, I moved him inch by slow inch. At last, the full length of Zack Crowder lay out of sight of anyone standing outside the open doorway.
Dropping Zack’s foot, I ran back to get my mallet. At least with it, I wouldn’t be defenseless. I planned for Gary to lie there beside his partner in crime very soon.
An arm reached through the door and grabbed me.
“Not so fast,” Gary growled.
In my fervor of moving Zack and the scraping noise he had made across the floor, I hadn’t heard Gary’s approach. I mentally kicked myself for letting this happen a second time.
Adrenalin was pumping and I found a strength I didn’t know I had. “Let go of me, you vermin! You worm!” I yelled. I twisted and turned but he pinned my arms down to my side.
Gary kicked my feet out from under me and I sat down abruptly. He stood over me, a pistol pointed directly at my head.
His face contorted into something that reminded me of a wild animal. “I should have done this in the first place,” he snarled.
I rolled to one side and felt the breath of the bullet as it hissed past my face. Gary was leveling the gun for a second shot but that shot never came. Another explosion echoed throughout the barn and Gary dropped to the floor, his weapon flying off into the shadows.
Grant appeared in the doorway, his gun drawn. He looked down at Gary who was moaning and holding his leg. Jim Clendon came in behind Grant. He unhooked some handcuffs from his belt and knelt down beside the wounded Gary.
“I’m bleeding,” Gary moaned. “I’m bleeding to death.”
Clendon grinned at him. “Probably not. But then, you can’t ever tell about these bullet wounds.”
Grant sheathed his gun and walked toward me. “Darcy, did they hurt you? Are you all right?”
I ran into his arms and clung to him as I tried to stop shaking.
“Oh, Grant, I’m all right now. Thank God you came.”