he’d paid for that with his life, in the same way any soldier might.
Living in a world where there was no law had its challenges. No, there still had to be law. Somehow, some way. These people were his people now. Sela was his, her family was his, her community was his. As bad as it had been driving down the mountain in the dark when he’d heard gunshots at her store, that was nothing compared to how he’d felt when he’d come through the door and seen her on the floor, Dietrich aiming a rifle at her. His vision had gone to red mist, and his heart had stopped. He still wasn’t over the sheer terror of that moment, especially now that he knew Dietrich had kicked her and she was hurt. She was moving around, but gingerly. He’d been kicked a few times himself, and it was brutal. He wanted to pick her up and hold her on his lap, just hold her, but after a few minutes of shock she’d gathered herself and taken charge in that quiet but quickly decisive way she had.
Carol’s house was a mess. Harley had died a bloody death on the front porch, and Lawrence’s brains were all over the living room. Sela had organized having Carol transported to her own house, where they would all stay until Carol’s house could be put to rights, which the neighborhood women were taking care of as fast as possible. The big tattooed woman named Carlette had shown up and was moving furniture like a man, pulling up blood-soaked carpet, packing up personal belongings and hand-carrying heavy boxes down to Sela’s house. Ben made a note to recruit her for the patrol.
Ted was hanging in, but it didn’t look good. They’d moved him to a house not far from the building where the firefight had taken place, put him in bed, kept him warm, and dressed his wound. Someone donated a bottle of antibiotics, to try to fight off infection, but Terry Morris had done a quiet triage and given a small shake of his head. There was no point in wasting the pills. Ted had lost a lot of blood, he had some severe internal injuries, and they didn’t have the medical facilities or equipment to treat him.
Mike and Darren were taken to the same house, at least for now, to make it more convenient for Terry to see to their care. Both men were on cots in the living room, where they slept and grumbled and were coddled by their wives as much as possible. Darren was in and out, but woke every time they tried to rouse him. Mike’s wound, painful as it was, was much less serious.
Night fell. Dawn came and went. A half dozen people, including the couple who owned the house and had gladly allowed it to be turned into a field hospital, gathered in the den and waited. Meredith didn’t leave her post beside Ted. She prayed, she quietly cried. Sometimes Ted roused and said a few words to her, and she held his hand.
When Meredith had to use the bathroom, she asked Sela to take her place watching over Ted. Ben was still not willing to let her out of his sight for long so he went into the bedroom with her.
Ted’s breathing was laborious, and getting slower. He opened his eyes and frowned in hazy confusion when he looked at Sela. “Meredith?” he asked, his voice barely audible.
“She’s gone to the bathroom,” Sela said, taking his hand.
He drew a shallow breath, focused on her. “Take care of her,” he whispered. “She’s . . . my heart.”
Sela wanted to say he’d be fine, but couldn’t bring herself to lie to him. Tears stung her eyes. “I will.”
Ben put his hand on her shoulder. He saw death in that bed. God knew he’d seen more than his share, and recognized it. Ted wouldn’t last another hour.
Ted closed his eyes, drifted off again. Sela sat there, still holding his hand, until Meredith returned and took her place.
She stood and went into Ben’s arms, rested her head on his chest. He wouldn’t swear to it, but he was almost positive she whispered “I love you” into his shirt.
He walked her out into the dim hallway, lit by a single candle, and once more folded her close. “Move in with me,” he murmured, resting his chin on the top of her head.