LANYON Josh by Dangerous Ground (L-id) [M-M] Page A

surging in his head, drowning out coherent thought. The shock was enough to send him rocking back on his heels, staring in disbelief at the slender shadow that resolved itself into a tense and familiar outline.
    “Where’s Stitch?” Orrin asked evenly, gaze on the rifle Taylor held. And aside from that pregnant pause before he spoke, he seemed to take Taylor’s return from the dead without batting an eyelash.
    “Unavailable.”
    Taylor’s voice. Taylor. Alive.
    Taylor said, “Will?”
    “Right here.”
    “Are you okay?”
    “I am now.”
    Orrin chuckled, and the sound was jarring. “Son, you can’t take both of us. Even if you do shoot me before I get to my rifle --”
    “He’s got your SIG,” Will interrupted.
    Orrin chuckled again. “Even if you did hit me at this distance and in this light, Bonnie will blow a hole through lover boy over there. No way you can take us both in time.”
    “You’re right,” Taylor said. “But I guarantee I can -- and will -- take you .” And they could all hear the easy confidence in his voice.
    Bonnie was shaking, but she knew better than to take her eyes off Will for one second. “Orrin?” she said worriedly.
    Orrin didn’t say anything, his hand still resting on the rifle stock, but making no move to pick it up.

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    “All it takes is one .22 plowing right between your eyes and into that lizard brain of yours, and that’s it for you, Orrin,” Taylor said. “I won’t make the same mistake you did.”
    “Okay,” Orrin said. “So what do you think you have to bargain with?”
    “Your life.” Taylor barely tilted his head in Will’s direction. “The only reason you’re not already dead is I want him.”
    “You do seem sorta sweet on each other,” Orrin remarked. He barely twitched his fingers and Taylor took two fast steps forward, his finger caressing the trigger but somehow managing not to pull. “Okay, okay. Keep your hair on!” Orrin said, holding very still. “So what’s your plan, son? Him for me, is that the deal?”
    “That’s the deal.”
    The inability to read anyone’s face made the moment all the more fraught. Taylor’s outline was poised, ready. But despite his hard calm, Will felt his tension, and he suddenly knew what Taylor was afraid of.
    Stitch must not be dead, and wherever he was, Taylor was afraid he wasn’t going to stay there long enough.
    “Mexican standoff.” Orrin sounded amused.
    The woman said, “Orrin…” as Will used his back against the tree trunk behind him to lever himself to his feet. He took a slow step away from her, aiming for the shadows of the trees.
    His hands were still tied behind his back, which meant he was going to have trouble running. But they needed to go because the minute Stitch turned up, armed or unarmed, the balance tipped out of their favor.
    Will passed Taylor, reaching the fingertips of the shadows. Taylor took a slow, careful step backward, his bead on Orrin never wavering.
    “Orrin --” Bonnie moved, trying to keep Will in her sights
    “It’s okay,” Orin said calmly. “They’re not going far.”
    Will reached the safety of the thicket, and a moment later Taylor was beside him -- and a moment after that Bonnie and Orrin opened fire.

    * * * * *
Taylor dived to the side, taking Will with him. The air was alive with gunfire, and they stayed low, moving fast, plastered to the ground as they crawled for cover. Or Taylor crawled. With his hands behind his back, Will was reduced to trying to hump along with Taylor tugging at him, half-dragging him.
    They weren’t going to get far like this, but apparently Taylor wasn’t trying to get far, just get them into concealment. They plowed right into a stand of thick vegetation, flattening themselves to the ground. Will opened his mouth to ask what Taylor had in mind, but Taylor reached out and scooped up some wet earth, smearing it over Will’s face. The cold smear