Blindside

The ski

The man in the coat yelled something and grabbed at the fat man’s shirt. The fat man jerked away, yelled something toward the boy, and fired from his hip, a lucky shot in the fog and rain that very nearly hit her.

“You idiot!” she yelled. “I’m Sheriff Benedict. Drop your weapon! Both of you, don’t move a single muscle!” But the fat guy pulled the trigger again, another hip shot, this one nowhere near her. Katie didn’t hesitate, she pulled the trigger and the guy flinched and grabbed his upper arm. She’d wanted to hit him high on the shoulder, wanted to bring him down, but the rain and fog were hard on her aim.

He managed to keep his gun. She had hoped he’d drop it.

She shouted, “Come forward, both of you, slowly!”

But neither of them took a single step toward her, not that she’d expected them to. Both men ran back into the thick trees. She fired after them, once, twice, then a final time. She thought she heard a yell. Good.

The little boy, panting so hard he was heaving, was on her the next instant. He grabbed her arm and shook it.

“You can’t let them go, ma’am! You’ve gotta shoot them again, you gotta kick their butts!”

Katie laid her rifle alongside her leg, and pulled the boy against her. “I got the fat one in the arm. Maybe I got the other one, too, while they were ru

Sam looked up at the tall woman who could have shot Fatso right in his big gut, but had only shot him in the arm instead. “Why didn’t you kill him?”

Katie smiled at the boy as she quickly herded him back to the truck. She didn’t want to hang around here. No telling if those guys would pop back out of the woods. “I try not to kill every bad guy I run into,” she said. “Sometimes I like to bring them in front of a judge.” She squeezed him hard. “You’re okay and that’s all that matters. Now let’s move out of here.”

The narrow bench in the back could hold no more than a couple of ski

She grabbed the blankets and lifted the boy up onto the front seat. “Keely, we’re going to make room for-”

“My name’s Sam.”

“We’re going to make room for Sam. He’s cold and he’s wet.” She settled him between her and Keely and covered him with five blankets. “Sweetie, don’t worry about your seat belt. You just press close to him to help him warm up, okay?”

“Okay, Mama.” Keely pressed against his back. Her little face was white, her voice a thin thread.

“It’s going to be all right, baby. I don’t want you to worry. I want you to be real brave for Sam here. He needs you to watch over him now. He’s been through something bad. Can you do that?”

Keely nodded, the tears that were near to brimming over nearly gone now. To Katie’s surprise, she shook Sam’s arm. “Hey, who were those guys? What were they doing to you?”

Sam was shuddering.

“Not now, Keely. Let’s just let Sam warm up a bit before we grill him.”

Sam managed to get his mouth working, but it was hard. “What’s your name, ma’am?”

“I’m Sheriff Benedict and that little girl next to you is my daughter, Keely. Did those men kidnap you?”

Sam managed to nod. He wasn’t going to cry. “I squeezed through a window and fell on my head. But I got away.”

“My goodness, you’re really brave, Sam. Now, let’s get you over to Doc Flint’s. Keely, you press close to Sam and try to get him warm.”

“I call him Doc Flintstone,” Keely said, watched her mom frown, then grab one of the towels to dry off the little boy’s head.

Sam said from behind the towel, “My mama used to give me Flintstones vitamins every morning with my toast.”

“I like marmalade on my toast. I don’t think smashed vitamins would taste very good.”

Sam thought that was fu

Katie slid her rifle onto the floor behind the driver’s seat. She turned the heater on high. “Okay, kids, I cranked up the heat so it’ll be roasting you both in a minute. I know you’re wet clear through, Sam, but the blankets should help a little bit.”

“I don’t like marmalade,” Sam said as Katie looked at him closely.

“You’ll like my mom’s. It’s the best.” Good, the boy wasn’t in shock, at least not yet. Katie put the truck in gear and started up. She had to watch her speed; the heavy rain made the road a river. As they passed where the men had disappeared into the trees, she looked carefully, but saw no sign of them.

She picked her cell phone out of her breast pocket and called Wade at the station house.

“Hello, Wade, it’s Katie. No, don’t tell me anything about the storm just yet. This is urgent.” She told him about Sam and his kidnappers, the two men who’d been chasing him, and how she’d shot the fat one in the arm. “I’m on the south end of Delaware. Sam came out of the woods in nearly a straight line from the road to Bleaker’s cabin-I’ll bet that’s where they were holding him. They’re armed, they tried to kill me. Take three deputies and get out there fast.” She gave them descriptions, then said, one eye on Sam’s white face, the other on the woods, “I’m taking Sam to Doc Flint’s. I’m on my cell. Let me know what you find. Did you hear any names, Sam?”

“Fatso and Beau.” Just saying their names made Sam so afraid he had to concentrate not to pee again in his jeans.

“The one in the black leather coat is Beau, the other one is Fatso, that’s Sam’s name for him. Put out an APB on them, Wade. The one with the bullet in his arm-chances are he’ll need some medical attention. Maybe the other one, too. Alert all medical facilities in the area. I’ll tell Doc Flint. I’ll bet he’ll be putting in some calls himself. I’ll check in again after I make sure the boy’s all right.”

She looked one last time toward the woods. No sign of either man. She pressed harder on the gas. She couldn’t go any faster, it was just too dangerous. “Sam, you keep bundled up. Don’t worry about talking right now. Just get yourself warm, that’s right. You can tell me everything in a little while. Right now, you just think about how you saved yourself. My goodness, you’re a hero.”

Sam nodded. It made him feel woozy. A hero? He didn’t feel like much of a hero. His teeth were chattering and that made him feel like a baby. He hadn’t been a baby for longer than he could remember. And there was that little girl Keely pressed against him, two fat braids the color of wheat toast hanging over her shoulders, touching his face she was so close. He closed his eyes. He wasn’t about to cry in front of the little girl. He wanted his father.

It took them nearly twenty minutes to get to Doc Flint’s office in the rain. Katie kept talking to both children, keeping her voice calm and low, telling Sam about how the weather was going to be really bad until some time tomorrow, telling him how Keely was five, not as old as he was, and about how Keely could play “When You Wish Upon a Star” on the piano. Keely chimed in and told Sam she’d teach him how to play it, too, and the C scale.

Sam looked bad, Katie thought, worrying now as she pulled in front of the small Victorian house that stood at the corner of Pine and Maple, two blocks off Main Street. It was tall, ski