Chapter 25

chapter

twenty-five

Deja Vu.

Once again, Sawyer was sitting at Lucy's bedside. But this time, he had no intention of leaving her. Ever. He was with her when they rolled her into surgery, and he stayed in that sterile waiting room until the doctors emerged with news. The bullet had barely missed her femoral artery, a stroke of luck in an otherwise shitty situation, but she'd lost a lot of blood. Now, she was out of surgery, safe, but still unconscious.

Sawyer ran his hand through his disheveled hair and blew out a breath. Zelda sat by his feet, her head resting on his bandaged knee. She whimpered softly and he reached down, stroking her head in reassurance even as frustration chewed at him. He wished he could've seen the danger. He should've seen that she was bleeding so heavily. He should've been protecting her, not the other way around.

"What are you doing in here?"

He frowned at Ash Rawlings' gruff voice. "Waiting for her to wake up."

"Weren't you discharged an hour ago?"

"Yeah and what's your point?" Sawyer retorted.

"You need to go home and rest." There was a moment's pause, some shuffling of clothes like he was digging in a pocket, then he said, "Yeah, he's in her room."

"Calling in reinforcements?" Sawyer asked bitterly.

"Have a feeling I'll need them to cart your stubborn ass out of here."

"I'm not leaving." He reached out until he found Lucy's cold hand, then tucked it between both of his to warm it. "You didn't leave when Rose was in the hospital."

"The difference was I hadn't sustained your injuries hours beforehand."

"Doesn't matter. I'm fine."

Ash's exhale told him the man was striving for patience. "Look, I talked to her doctor. She's going to be okay, but she's on a heavy dose of pain meds and won't be waking up anytime tonight."

He tightened his grip on Lucy's hand. "Then I'll be here when she does."

Before Ash could respond, the door opened again. "What part of ‘you need rest' do you not understand?" a female voice asked tersely.

Anna Hendricks.

Sawyer sighed. "Not you, too."

"Yes, me too," she retorted. "Someone has to keep you bullheaded alpha males in line. Sawyer, you're no good to anyone if you're flat on your back because you ignored doctor's orders."

He was quiet for a long moment, stroking Lucy's hand, a lump rising up in his throat, choking him. "I can't leave her again, Anna."

"You're not," she replied, softer now. "You'll be back first thing in the morning. Ash will drive you. Right, Ash?"

Ash grunted something that might have been agreement. At least, Anna seemed to take it as such, and nobody knew the taciturn sheriff's grunts better than his twin sister.

She placed a gentle hand on Sawyer's shoulder. "You have to take care of yourself for Lucy. She'll need you when she wakes up, but not a version of you that's half-dead from exhaustion."

Part of him recognized the truth in her words— he wasn't in the best shape and staying here wouldn't help Lucy if he ended up collapsing beside her.

But… he just couldn't bring himself to leave.

"I'll stay with her," Anna said. "I'll call if anything changes."

The offer eased some of the worry roiling inside him. Anna was strong, resourceful, and had a stubborn streak to rival his own. She wouldn't let anything happen to Lucy.

Sawyer took a deep breath, the tension in his body deflating just a fraction. "Okay," he finally agreed. "But you call me the second she wakes up."

"Deal," Anna said, patting his shoulder reassuringly.

Ash shifted from where he'd been leaning against the wall and moved toward the door. "All right, Murphy. Let's get you out of here before you fall over."

It took all Sawyer's willpower to relinquish Lucy's hand and push himself to stand. His knee protested, pain flaring hot and sharp, but he gritted his teeth and pushed through it. Zelda moved from her spot by his feet to guide him out of the room.

He'd be back in a few hours.

Anna was with her.

There was nothing to worry about.

So why couldn't he shake off the gnawing dread in his gut?

Something was off. Something he couldn't quite put his finger on. He paused in the doorway, taking one last look toward the bed. He knew she was there, but she was so still that without having his hand on her, he couldn't tell. All he could see was the steady spike of her heart rate moving across the screen behind her bed. He watched it for a long moment.

Anna waved a hand, drawing his attention. "Go. Shoo. I've got her."

"Come on," Ash said softly, nudging his shoulder.

He sucked in a steading breath and stepped into the hallway.

"Left," Ash said.

He turned in the direction and stopped short when he heard a familiar, grating voice that set his teeth on edge. "You found Chuck."

"And his son," Ash confirmed. "The boy's in a room down the hall recovering from surgery."

While he was relieved to hear that Joel was okay, he really didn't want to deal with Chuck right now. "Any chance we can avoid him?"

"Unfortunately, no. He's right by the elevators."

"Great," he muttered. "Why not add a cherry on top of this shit sundae?"

If he wasn't mistaken, the sound Ash made was a laugh. "He's too busy berating the staff to notice you."

As they moved forward, Chuck's voice boomed down the hallway. He was arguing with a nurse by the sound of it, his words loud and belligerent.

"Don't tell me what's best for my son!"

"Mr. Grassley, we need to?—"

"I don't give two shits what you need! You better find a goddamn doctor who actually knows what they're doing."

It was tempting to keep his head down and ignore the man as they passed, but his pride won over. He wasn't a coward.

"Chuck," he called.

Chuck paused in his ranting. "Sawyer?" He felt the man's gaze slide over him. "You look like hell."

And you still look like a jackass.

Sawyer suppressed a smile at the thought. If he said that, no doubt Chuck would take another jab at his blindness, so instead, he asked, "How's Joel?"

The hostility drained out of Chuck's voice, replaced by something that might have been worry. "They keep saying he might lose his leg."

Sawyer swallowed a twinge of guilt. Joel was just a kid, and now his life was forever changed. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"Yeah," Chuck muttered, the bravado he usually wore like a second skin now noticeably absent. "Me, too."

Sawyer figured the conversation was over and nudged Zelda forward, but Chuck called out, "Hey, Sawyer?"

He paused but didn't turn back. "Yeah?"

"What you did up there on the mountain, fixin' the radio, callin' for help…" He swallowed hard like the words were hard to squeeze out. "It's the reason my boy still has a shot at keepin' the leg. Thank you."

Now, he did turn, his curiosity winning out over his distaste for the guy. "What happened after Lucy and I left?"

Chuck was silent for an uncomfortable moment. "Everyone else left, too. Grant followed you, then Ethan dug up Maya's body and took her Christ knows where. That twerp Theodore decided he didn't wanna sit around waitin', so he and Bea took off into the woods. Joel and I waited, and, a few hours later, a rescue team reached us on foot. Said they overheard your radio call. So, yeah, thank you." Some of the bluster returned to his voice. "Now, that's done, and I'm not gonna say it again. My boy and I are going home."

With that, Chuck turned and disappeared into his son's hospital room.

A weird feeling threaded its way through Sawyer—not quite satisfaction, but close. Chuck Grassley had just thanked him, and although he'd spat out the words as if they were poison, he was still going to count it as a win.

"All right, let's go," Ash said, nudging him forward. "You're swaying on your feet, and I'm not carrying you."

"Have you found any of the others?" he asked Ash as they caught the elevator. "Theodore? Bea? Ethan?"

"No," the sheriff said grimly. "Unfortunately, there are a lot of missing people right now and not enough people to look for them."

"What about Grant? Have you gotten anything out of him? Like why he's looking for Pierce?"

Ash said nothing until the elevator slowed and the doors started to slide open. Then he sighed like a man who was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. "Grant killed himself in custody."

The words dropped like a stone, hitting Sawyer hard. His head buzzed, and for a moment, the walls of the elevator seemed to close in on him. "What?"

"He had some kind of poison on him. We didn't find it, and he took it as soon as we put him in a cell. We tried to revive him, but there was nothing we could do." Ash's hand landed on his shoulder. "I'm sorry. I know you were hoping for answers. We all were."

Sawyer nodded, feeling a strange mix of emotions. Disbelief, anger, disappointment - all swirling around inside him like a rogue tornado. He'd been hoping Grant had answers. About Ethan and Maya. About Pierce. About why Grant had targeted him and Lucy…

And now, they would never know.

Back at home, Sawyer tried to sleep. He really did, but his brain wouldn't shut off.

Something about his conversation with Chuck kept replaying in his mind, a puzzle piece that didn't quite fit with the rest. After a restless hour, he sat up in bed and swung his legs over the edge. He held out a hand, and Zelda nuzzled his palm. "There's my girl. Let's take a walk over to the command center."

He felt around for her harness. When he held it up, she poked her nose through the neck loop, and he gave her a kiss on her muzzle as he fastened it around her belly.

Zelda led him out of the apartment and across the grounds of Redwood Coast Rescue. He used to have an apartment in town, but since he couldn't drive and the small town didn't have a bus system, it became difficult to find rides to work. But after a wildfire destroyed the original rescue two years ago, they'd had to rebuild from scratch and Zak suggested they could build him an apartment on the grounds to make his commute easier.

The command center was his domain where he ruled from his desk in front of a wall of computers, and it wasn't far from his apartment.

Thanks to his years of working for the rescue, Sawyer knew the layout by heart—the radio equipment near the front, the lockers along one wall, the large table strewn with maps and search plans...

He made his way toward what he knew was a corkboard full of photos and notes. He didn't need to see it, but he reached out anyway, fingertips brushing over pins and paper edges. His mind formed an image of the board based on memory— dozens of Polaroids, some old, some new; countless scraps of paper with hastily scribbled notes; and at its center, a printout with "Redwood Coast Rescue" boldly typed across it.

The chatter of radio communications filled the room during the day, but now it was silent.

"Sawyer?" Zak's voice broke the silence.

Sawyer startled. "Zak? What are you doing here?"

"Couldn't sleep," Zak replied gruffly. "You?"

"The same." Zak's prosthetic leg hit the floor with a heavy thud. As usual, he'd been lounging at his desk with his feet up. "I don't like it when Anna's not home."

Sawyer winced. "It wasn't my idea to have her stay with Lucy. If I had it my way, I'd still be there."

Zak chuckled. "Of course not. It was all Anna's. She was afraid you were gonna keel over or something. Which—" He paused, and Sawyer felt his considering gaze. "You look like you might." A chair scraped over the floor. "Sit down."

Sawyer felt his way to the seat and sank into it. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't grateful to be off his feet. He let himself enjoy it for a moment, then sat forward. "Is my backpack here or did it get left on the mountain?"

"No, it's here."

"Lucy's?"

"Yeah, hers too. Why?"

Sawyer shook his head. He couldn't explain it. "Just an itch I need to scratch before I can rest. Can I see them?"

"Sure," Zak said with a shrug in his voice. He walked across the room, and there was some shuffling. Then, he came back and put both bags on the table in front of Sawyer. "Looking for anything in particular?"

"A phone."

Zak grunted and rummaged through the bags. "Your phone is here."

"Not looking for mine."

"Lucy's, too."

"Not hers, either." He stood, grabbed the first bag his hand hit, and upended it. He heard the other phones clatter out onto the table.

"Jesus. How many phones are you hoarding in there?"

"Help me find charging cords for all of these."

"The hell for?" Zak grumbled. Despite his sleep-deprived irritation, there was a layer of concern lacing his tone that only Sawyer could pick out.

"A hunch?"

"You don't sound too sure about that," Zak said but moved away to find cords.

"Because I don't know what's bugging me about this whole thing." Slowly, he felt over each phone, mentally categorizing them by size and brand, hoping to place Bea's distinctive case. When he finally found it—smaller than Lucy's, slightly chipped on one corner—relief washed over him. "We need to charge this one first."

It took a few minutes after they plugged it in, but the screen finally flickered to life with a robotic voice intoning, "VoiceOver on. iPhone. 10:05 PM. Notification from Messages: New message from Vince Walker. Notification from Mail: New email from Halston." It continued listing off more notifications from both Walker and Halston.

"Vince Walker," Zak muttered, and the chair behind his desk squeaked as he settled back into it. He tapped on his keyboard, the clicks of the keys loud in the silent room. "Why is that name ringing a bell?"

"I don't know," Sawyer said. "But Halston is a military contractor. Before I was injured, they were trying to wine and dine me into joining them when my enlistment was up. I told them to shove it. I hadn't heard good things about them. Then I was shot, and they lost all interest." He tapped into the messages on the iPhone.

"Messages," the phone said in its robotic voice. "Vince Walker. Message, ‘You don't need to come. I have it handled.' Received Friday at 3:45 PM."

"That was right before the earthquake," Zak said. "Is there a reply?"

"No. Bea never received any of these." He navigated to the email and opened it.

"Mail," the phone said. "Halston. Subject: Mission Update. ‘What the fuck is going on? Walker says you're there. Why the fuck did you take the client there? Theodore Carter is valuable. If anything happens to him, the blowback won't just be on you. Get him off the mountain and report back immediately. Do not fuck this up.' Received Saturday at 2:30 AM."

"Wait," Zak said suddenly and snapped his figures. "Vince Walker. He was black ops. He left the military before I did and hung out his shingle as a hitman."

And the pieces clicked into place in Sawyer's head. He sat back. "Grant told me he was using an alias. Vince Walker was his real name… and he knew Bea and Theodore. They were all fucking lying."

The phone chimed. "Video Message. Unknown Sender. ‘You want to see your women again? Bring us Pierce St. James. Further instruction to come.' Received just now."

Zak shoved out of his chair so hard it clattered on the floor, startling Zelda. "Jesus. Anna!" He snatched the phone from Sawyer's hand.

"Playing video message from unknown sender," the phone said.

Sawyer strained his ears, but the video had no sound.

"They have her." Zak's voice was a raw wound, his pain palpable. "Fuck. Sawyer, they have them both."