Blindside

Fatso had, so maybe he could slither through the trees really fast. He could come out from behind a tree and jump Sam, cut his throat.
    Sam’s heart was pounding so loud he could hear it. He crouched down behind one of the big trees, made himself as skinny as a shadow, and waited. He got his breath back, pressed his cheek to the bark, and listened. He didn’t hear anything, just the thunder that kept rumbling through the sky. He rubbed his side and the stitch faded. The air felt thick, actually felt like it was raining before the first drop found its way through the thick canopy of leaves and hit him on the jaw.
    They’d never see him in the rain. Fatso would probably slip on some mud and land on his fat belly. Sam smiled.
    You did it, Sam, you did it.
    He’d done it all right. Only thing was he didn’t know where he was.
    Where was Tennessee?
    Even with the thick tree cover, the rain came down hard. He wondered if the forest was so big he’d come out in Ohio, wherever that was.

4
    I t was Saturday afternoon, her day off, but with the storm coming, anything could happen. Katie Benedict was driving slowly, listening to the rain slam against the roof of her Silverado. It was hard to see through the thick gray rain even with the windshield wipers working overtime. The mountains were shrouded in fog, thick, heavy, and cold. And now this storm, a vicious one, the weather people were calling it, was on the way. An interesting choice of words, but she bet it was apt. She realized now that she shouldn’t have chanced taking Keely to her piano lesson given the forecast, but she had. At least it had only just started raining, and they were close to home. She just hoped there wouldn’t be any accidents on the road. If there were, she’d be up to her eyebrows in work.
    She hunched forward, peering through the thick sheets of rain, Keely quiet beside her. Too quiet.
    “Keely, you all right?”
    “I’d like to find a rainbow, Mama.”
    “Not for a while yet, sweetie, but you keep looking. Hey, I heard you playing your C major scale before. It sounded really good.”

    “I’ve worked hard on getting it right, Mama.”
    Katie grinned. “I know, but it’s worth it.”
    Suddenly, Keely bounced up on the seat, straining against her seat belt, and began waving through the windshield. “Mama, what’s that? Look, it’s a little boy and he’s running!”
    Katie saw him. The boy was sopping wet, running out of the woods to her left, not more than fifty feet onto the road in front of her. Then she saw two men burst out of the trees. It was obvious they were after him.
    Katie said, even as she reached over and quickly released Keely’s seat belt, “I want you to get down and stay there. Do you understand?”
    Keely knew that tone of voice, her mama’s sheriff voice, and nodded, slipping down to the floor.
    “Cover your head with your arms. Everything will be fine. Just don’t move, okay?”
    “Okay, Mama.”
    Katie pulled to a stop, quickly leaned over the front seat and punched in the two numbers to her lock box beneath the back bench. She pulled out her Remington rifle, loaded, ready to go. By the time she opened the door, the men weren’t more than a long arm’s reach from the boy. Thank God he’d seen her and was running toward her. He was yelling, but the wind and rain wiped any sound he made right out.
    The big man, his beer gut pounded by the rain, had a gun. Not good. Despite his size he moved quickly. He turned toward her, away from the boy, and raised the gun.
    Katie brought up her rifle, cool and fast, and fired, kicking up muddy water not a foot from the fat man’s feet, splattering him to his waist. “I’m the sheriff! Stop right there! Don’t move!”
    The skinny man behind him yelled something. The idiot was wearing a long black leather coat that was soaked from the rain. Katie calmly raised her Remington again andfired. This time the shot dug up a huge clod of dirt, spraying the leather coat.
    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