Chapter Fifteen

For a few breathless moments, no one moved inside the car. Gage finally began to move. He could hardly believe that he was still alive. It had worked this time, Biggins was down and soon to be out. Gage carefully checked Tommy over.

"Tom," he said giving the youth a gentle shake.

"Yeah," he said slowly.

"All right," he said with a smile. They were all right. "How about we get out of here?" He opened the driver's door and slide out.

"Don't have to ask me twice." Tommy undid his seatbelt. Carefully he crawled out of the wreck. On his way out he chanced a glance at the floor of the car. The gun had fallen during the accident and was now wedged just past the brake. They would need that. He paused for a quick moment to pick it up. It was heavy in his hands. Once he had it, he resumed making his way out of what was left of the car. A few more inches and he was free.

"No you don't," a gruff voice said as a hand shot forward and grabbed Tommy's ankle. He gave it a firm tug, knocking the youth off balance, causing him to hit his chest on the edge of the seat, knocking what little air he had in his lungs out. Quickly Biggins pulled the youth toward him.

"Gage!" Tommy shouted, tossing the gun at him.

"No!" Gage shouted moving to grab Tommy's arms.

"The gun." Seeing the gun Gage picked it up.

Biggins emerged from the other side of the car with his struggling captive. He had one arm wrapped securely about the youth's neck while his other held a weapon that was undefinable in the dark. Gage aimed his weapon at Biggins.

"Let him go," he warned.

"Make me." He pulled Tommy closer to him. "Without that toy."

"Whatever you want." Gage set the gun down and headed toward Biggins.

Biggins stood his ground, managing to keep one arm tightly about the youth. Gage charged the large man. Holding out his weapon, Biggins allowed the angry man to charge him. Once Gage was within reach, Biggins brought his weapon out to meet Gage's mid section, falling him. Biggins had a knife.

"Your turn, kid." He threw Tommy to the ground once again knocking the breath out of him. Biggins ripped the knife from Gage's prone form, causing him to cry out in pain. He walked toward Tommy, pointing the blood covered knife at the boy.

There was nothing left to do. There was no way he could fight the guy and win, not even Gage could do that. He did the only thing he could, he surrendered. He laid his head back against the soft grass, and waited for the knife to find its way into his belly as it had Gage's.

Taylor smiled at the boy. He had won. He had beat fate at her game. He was going to enjoy sinking the sharp blade of the knife into the tender flesh of the youth before him. It was a pity though, the kid had been a good lover for the days that they had been together. Slowly he sank to his knees, straddling the young man's hips. Pulling his arms above his head, clasping the knife handle tautly, he prepared to bring it  down.

It was then that a single shot rang out in the cool night air. The large man's body jerked, falling to the ground away from Tommy, taking the knife with him. He was dead. Blood oozed from a small hole in the side of his head. It was a hell of a shot.

Tommy moved quickly to get away from the body of his tormentor. His eyes scanning the area for the person who had fired the shot. He knew there was no way Gage could have done that, he was lying too far from the gun and was bleeding too badly to have even been able to. The movement of a figure stopped Tommy dead. Trent. Trent had been the one who fired the shot. He still held the gun in his shaking hand.

"Trent," Tommy said moving toward his brother.

"Is he?" he asked shocked.

"Yeah. We need to get help, Gage's hurt bad." He pointed to where Gage lay bleeding.

Dropping the gun, Trent ran to his friend's side. He quickly added as much pressure to the wound as he could.

"You still with us, Buddy?" he asked, noticing the fallen man's pale colour.

"Yeah," Gage choked out. "Thanks." He gave a weak smile.

"You just hang in there," he said trying to encourage his friend.

"I'll . . ." he breathed.

"No," Trent whispered. "Gage, no."