Heath entered the camp at a gallop, brought Charger abruptly to a halt, and leapt from the saddle to ring the fire bell. “Fire! Fire on section four. Fire!” The men scattered with his call and were soon on horses and in wagons on their way to the fire with axes, shovels and saws. Heath swung back into his saddle and pushed Charger to carry him quickly to stop the fire. The smoke was thick and heavy. The air was hot and roared with satisfaction. Heath dismounted shouting orders to position the men, as they arrived, effectively around the fire. They worked for hours. The men were beginning to beat back the fire on the northern edge where it was young. Heath took some of the men and headed to the ridge where the fire seemed to be winning. Heath was surprised to find Bentell already there.

The men were fighting a losing battle. The fire raged and scattered the men with its unpredictable attacks. The fire seemed to jump at will. Heath was calling the men back to reorganize when Bentell approached and grabbed his arm. “The only way we’re going to put out this fire is by placing nitroglycerine along the bases of these trees and blasting it out.” Bentell shouted above the screaming flames. His arm pointed along a path of trees that followed a creek bed. They would give Mother Nature a hand and extend the small fire break. “Come on.” Bentell let go and pointed out toward the road.

Heath shouted to the men to evacuate the ridge completely and to maintain control over the other perimeters. Bentell fetched a buggy and waited for Heath to join him. Only Gil Condon and his brother Aaron, remained in the brush, hidden by smoke.

Matt Bentell and Heath Barkley rode to the explosives’ shed. Heath was intent in his goal to put out the fire. He wondered if this was the defining moment. Jarrod had thought working toward a common goal with his enemy would end his hate, extinguish his pain and let him forget. It was a truce that duty demanded and fate would resolve. Bentell had many things on his mind as well. One being that he might yet lose his job if he let Heath go and another whether the job was worth dying for at all? His wife had begged him not to go. Bentell carefully carried a box with vials of nitroglycerine out of the shed and gave it to Heath to hold on his lap as they prepared themselves to fight a common battle. The two men were quickly at the fire and began strategically placing vials of nitroglycerine along a mile stretch of pines.

The fire was nearly upon them. Heath returned to the wagon, knowing there were only a few vials left to place and that the heat was fast approaching the critical level that would start a chain reaction of explosions to starve the hungry fire. Heath wondered if his memories could reach that point. They had been raging out of control consuming him, confusing him, demanding his life and love. Working with Bentell had not been able to extinguish them. He needed another catalyst to annihilate the past. The fire was stealing the air and Heath thought perhaps the fire’s blistering heat could steal his memories as well.

Gil and Aaron Condon had been watching from the nearby brush. They were close to the wagon and hidden by smoke. “Come on Gil, let’s get outta here. Let Bentell get his own self killed.” Aaron had a firm hand on his brother’s shoulder. He was sorry for the heartache his decision to inform had caused his brother. But he was never sorry that his brother was alive and he wanted it to stay that way.

“I ain’t goin’ ’til it’s done, Aaron. I’ve carried this around too long. I know you love me and ya know I love you but I got no love for myself. I’m sorry Aaron. You best go. I’ll catch up to ya in town.” Gil looked with cold eyes at the brother who loved him and shook his head wondering why. Aaron nodded and snuck through the trees below the creek.

Gil saw his chance as Matt Bentell and Heath Barkley were away from the wagon. The two men had gone in separate directions to cover a half mile in each direction. Gil snuck to the wagon and gently lifted a vial of the dangerous liquid out of its’ protective nest and turned in Bentell’s direction. Heath happened to return to the wagon at that time and was surprised to see Gil Condon ready himself to throw a vial of nitroglycerine at Matt Bentell who was also making his way back to the wagon. Heath instinctively rushed to stop Gil from throwing the explosive. “Gil, don’t move.” Though Heath felt little conviction to them, the words came out on their own.

Gil stopped and returned to the wagon cautiously raising his arms to signal surrender. Heath was unsure who he was trying to save this time Bentell, Gil or himself and why? Gil was offering him another chance to ensure that not only his enemy but his memories, nightmares and false dreams of love and family would all be destroyed violently and completely. There would be no one left to remember and nothing left to forget. It would only cost three lives of men who had already died long ago and remained captive within the walls of Carterson prison. To live again as Tom Barkley’s son was an unrealistic dream, yet a reality he did not want to live without.

Gil slowly replaced the vial and sensing Heath’s uncertainty, followed through with a powerful blow, striking the side of Heath’s head. Heath fell and before he could brace himself, his head cracked against a boulder mostly hidden under the earth and covered it with blood. Heath saw the stars explode before his eyes. For one brief moment he believed it was done. He felt nothing, heard nothing and when the darkness closed in he thought he would finally forget everything.

Gil returned to his task and began to lift the vial slowly. Bentell had watched the confrontation and approached without detection. He grabbed Gil’s arm and removed the fragile explosive from Gil’s hand before it cleared the box. Bentell pushed Gil Condon down to the ground and watched for a reaction. Gil straightened himself up and stumbled over his own damaged leg. Determined to finish what he started Gil limped into the trees to find another vial he had watched Heath place under a tree. He was going to kill Bentell or die trying and he didn’t think Heath really cared one way or the other.

Bentell bent down to see if Heath was dead.

A feeling of dread had grown steadily since leaving his brother to the task he had chosen. He feared he would lose him to the fire or Bentell. Aaron returned to find the wagon still in its place and Bentell beside it hunched over a body. Aaron burst out of the brush. He saw the body was Heath’s and felt his worst fears again. Where’s Gil?” Aaron shouted. Bentell couldn’t hear above the fire but saw he was obviously searching for his brother. “Get him outta there!” Bentell pointed into the heart of the speeding fire and Aaron ran into it..

The full force of the pain registered and Heath grabbed his head and tried to shake free of the bright lights. He rolled to his knees still holding his head and pressing it into the dirt. When he was able to open his eyes and see past the ebbing lights he felt someone pulling on his arm. He turned his head and slowly focused on Bentell. He was saying something Heath did not hear above the roar in his head. Heath pulled free from his captor and started to crawl away. Heath didn’t remember what happened but he was outside of Bentell’s Prison and hoped the fire would offer him some protection.

Bentell grabbed Heath’s arm again and turned him over. “Come on get up! We have to get out of here.”

Heath still couldn’t hear and slammed his leg against Bentell’s bringing the man to his knees. Heath stood on faltering legs and staggered into the trees. He turned and Bentell was shouting, calling for the guards. Heath tried to shake free of the cobwebs tangling up his mind as he struggled to come to his senses. He disappeared into the smoke and escaped from Bentell. It was the one thing his heart, without question, drove him to do.

Bentell could barely stand the heat and although it was risky to leave a Barkley behind, no matter how distant or impure, it wasn’t worth dying to try to save him. He called out to Heath and Aaron and Gil once more without conviction. He placed the box with the remaining vials of nitroglycerine on the ground then stepped into the carriage, turned the horses and left the three men behind.

Heath gulped hot exhausted air. He stumbled into a tree and held on as the world spun around him. He heard Aaron call out for Gil. His heart leapt. He was not alone others had escaped as well. Heath pushed himself in the direction of Aaron’s voice, and was blown down by an explosion that stilled the voice forever.

Heath felt the heat begin to burn his skin. Panic was rising inside him and his jumbled thoughts could not stop it. He started scrambling away. He placed his hand on the closest tree and used it to right himself. He stumbled away from the fire. He felt the ground shake as more explosions began. He raced from tree to tree through sheer will and used every ounce of strength he could summon. He made for an embankment and was tossed over the edge as an explosion ripped through the air and bombarded him with rocks and giant splinters of wood. He landed unaware, in the shallow running creek bed below.

The explosions rang intermittently for nearly an hour. The fire break had extinguished the fire but there had been fewer explosions than vials that had been placed. The crate held twenty four vials. There had been only nineteen blasts. The crate had exploded with a thunderous bang but that counted for three. Two vials remained lost or had gone off in tandem. Bentell assigned many crews to the perimeter to put out any secondary fires. Some crews were sent to get rest in order to relieve those left working. One crew was put together to search the East Ridge for Heath and the Condons. That crew would wait until morning when there would be light to see and the ground had cooled. Bentell diagrammed the line of explosives and told everyman to be careful and how he wanted the explosive destroyed harmlessly. He dismissed the men to sleep and returned to his own cabin and wife. He took her that night but wasn’t satisfied. Afterward, he lay awake preparing for the confrontation with the Barkleys that would come with the two messengers he’d sent to inform them of the situation.

The messengers arrived at the Barkley ranch after midnight. Silas was the first to reach the door, relieved to see Nick and Jarrod coming down the stairs. Their shirts were wide open, their pajama bottoms were sticking out of their pants at the waist and their guns were pointing at the door. “Who’s there!?” Nick bellowed.

“Swaid, Mr. Barkley, it’s Billy Swaid and Dusty, ah, Jim Rogers sir. Mr. Bentell sent us.” Nick nodded and waved his gun at the door. Silas understood and admitted the two men. They had their hats in their hands and fidgeted just inside the house, not yet far enough in for Silas to shut the door. Both men looked at their hats.

“Well, you got us up from sleep, don’t you have something to say?” Nick dropped his gun to his side and prepared himself for the bad news. He hoped Jarrod would take over the conversation because his throat had suddenly frozen by the news they had yet to hear.

“Why don’t you come in and we’ll all make ourselves comfortable. You’ve had a long ride boys. Good news I hope.” Jarrod chose optimism and led them to the study.

Victoria Barkley was only moments behind her sons but waited in the hallway. She heard the men leave the foyer to go to the study and close the door. She followed, unseen and motioned Silas to retire. She stopped to listen at the door. She wanted the whole story not the one her son’s would try to spare her with. ‘Heath.’ She worried.

“There’s been trouble up at camp Mr. Barkley.” Billy nodded to both brothers catching their eyes to gauge their reactions. “Bentell sent us to tell you there’s been a fire up at camp.” Billy paused but no reaction came. Both brothers were holding their breath.. “There was a fire and your brother’s missing. “Billy said quickly and quietly then took a deep breath pleased at least that he’d said what he meant to say.

Nick couldn’t speak but slammed his fist onto Jarrod’s desk turned to his brother with burning anger and took one big step that put each man at an equal distance and stopped, chest heaving and muscles taut.

Jarrod turned away from Nick’s anger. “Alright men, let’s sort this out, shall we. What do you mean my brother is missing?” Nick took a step toward Jarrod with a look that dared him to call Heath ‘brother’ again.

Swaid and Rogers told the Barkleys about the Condons and the sabotaged flume. They told them that Heath had left the camp before the fire started and returned to fight it and lay the nitroglycerine along the ridge with Bentell. They told the Barkleys that neither Heath nor Condons had made it out of the fire.

When there were no more questions to ask or answer, Victoria wiped her face and opened the door. “I suggest the four of you get some sleep before the sun comes up.” All four men flushed deep red. Swaid and Rogers for seeing their bosses’ mother in her sleep clothes, and Nick and Jarrod in embarrassment for their part in losing Heath. Victoria turned her gaze to rest solely on her sons, yet addressed the messengers. “There’s room in the bunkhouse. You’d best knock. The men don’t cotton to intruders.” Nick dismissed the men and after an awkward moment they left.

Nick, Jarrod and Victoria stood shell shocked and guilt crept through their rigid armors. Victoria was the first to succumb. She swayed and both sons were at her side guiding her to a chair. “What have I done?” She whispered.

Jarrod came out of his stupor. “It was my idea.”

Tears pricked Nick’s eyes and he released his anger. “Let’s send him with Bentell.” He stormed around the room looking for ammunition. “Let’s ask him to risk his life for Bentell’s.” Finally he just used all his strength and began tipping Jarrod’s desk. “We didn’t even ask. But he told us no! He said no! And we made him do it!” It wasn’t an easy task, the desk was substantial, but neither brother nor mother stopped him. “You know why he went?” The desk finally fell and there was a great snapping of wood as Jarrod’s chair was crushed under its weight. “He went out of love.” Nick turned and faced his mother and brother. “He did it because it’s what we wanted. We sent him with a man he says is a murderer, a man he hates, a man who still haunts him.” Nick paced with his shoulders slumped.

“We’ll find him.” Jarrod spoke calmly to keep Nick reined in.

“Alive? Will we find him alive Jarrod? If we do, what do we tell him? Huh, that we love him, huh, or that we have another dirty job for him to do?” Nick’s temper was gaining fuel. “What the hell were you thinking!?”

Jarrod knew it was coming. He shook his head. “I don’t know anymore. I wish.... I know this is my fault, Nick.”

“You don’t know a horse’s ass from a barn door, Jarrod. All you can do is use words and make things sound right, but you don’t know nothin!” Nick ran his hands through his hair and clenched his fists. He tipped his head back and let out a deep, accusing wail.

Victoria went to her son and held his arms. He was shaking. “It was me.” He confessed as his heart broke open. “It was me. I did it. Forgive me.” He whispered.

Victoria still held him and stroked his back. Nick pulled from her touch and staggered away. “Don’t touch me.” He was wild eyed. “He came to *me* and I put him up against the rest of you, the rest of us and made him go.”

Victoria stood still. Watching in horror as Nick backed out of the study door Victoria felt she had lost another son. She put her hand to her mouth and listened to Nick’s footsteps running and then bounding up the stairs and slamming his bedroom door behind him.

Victoria snapped around to face Jarrod who stood behind her. “I’m so sorry Mother.” He choked out and touched her shoulders hoping she would not pull away.

Victoria embraced her eldest. “It’s my fault Jarrod. It was just an idea until I decided it was what we were going to do. It was just an idea. It’s not your fault.”

“Nick’s right.” Jarrod admitted.

“What? That you don’t know a horse’s ass from a barn door?” Victoria took his chin in her right hand. Jarrod played along and let the sorriest chuckle escape his quavering lips. Tears escaped as he held on to his Mother and cried. “What if…?” The words could not be squeezed out.

“I need you to think straight Jarrod.” Jarrod snorted in disbelief at his mother’s words. “You have a good head on your shoulders Jarrod, don’t doubt that. It’s just sometimes you and I need to think like Nick and let our hearts decide.” Jarrod understood and nodded slowly. “Nick won’t make it back if you can’t find Heath. You have to bring them both home.” Victoria worried. “Get some rest, the sun will be up soon.”

As they arrived at the top of the stairs Audra was standing alone at her bedroom door.

“Go back to sleep, it’s late.” Victoria told her. Perhaps there would be good news in a couple of days.

Audra stood a moment before stepping into her room and closing the door, not understanding what was going on and not ready to ask.

Before dawn, Jarrod and Nick left with the messengers. Victoria hadn’t slept at all. Instead she’d prayed for guidance and mercy for her sons, asking that they all come home alive. Neither Jarrod nor Nick had slept much either and the ride was held together by raw nerves. Nick kept his lips tightly pressed in order to keep hold of his control. Jarrod was no less excused by the silence than accused by his tirade. Jarrod took full responsibility even though others had played their own part. He promised himself and his family especially Heath that he would make things right again if it was the last thing he did. It was evening when they got to the camp and Bentell was there to greet them.

Nick dismounted and charged over to Bentell. “Where’s Heath?” He demanded of the man he had made his enemy too late.

“We still haven’t found him.” Bentell said slowly and well rehearsed. “I’ve got search crews out there.”

“Why is he missing? He was with you!” Nick needed an answer and he needed to hear it from the man he sent Heath to protect. The man who stood before him alive, while his brother was missing, possibly dead.

Bentell shrugged.

“Why is he out there and you’re right here? He was with you.” Nick began to raise his voice. He wasn’t getting the answers he wanted. Nor was he getting the answers he needed.

“Nick,” Bentell looked him in the eye and turned, “Jarrod,” Acknowledging them both dutifully. “Heath was with me. He hit his head. He was hurt and fought against my help. I tried to get him to the wagon but he ran. I called for him to come back but the explosions started and the horses were going to bolt so I jumped on. I couldn’t save your brother. I’m sorry. I tried but he wouldn’t accept my help.”

Nick clenched his fists. His eyes stung. “Why?” Nick grabbed Bentell by his shirt collar and vest. His eyes narrowed in accusation. “Why?” This time he shouted.

Bentell attempted to brush off Nick’s hold. He was unsuccessful. Jarrod spoke softly, “Nick, let me talk. Okay come on, we need answers, not a fight, come on Nick let him go.”

Nick let go and stared at Jarrod. Anger, love , sorrow, regret all swam in Nick’s eyes, trying to come to terms with the consequences of his betrayal. His muscles were still taut and ready to lash out at anything in his way.

“I’ll talk to him. We’ll find Heath.” Jarrod hoped to bring Nick some peace. He thought over the plan he’d made, wondering what he had missed? He hadn’t meant for Heath to give his life for Bentell’s. Had he? The words ‘ you go and protect him’ rang in his ears. ‘Did Heath think that was what he meant? What had he meant?’ Jarrod’s mind raced with accusations. ‘You can’t hate a man once you get to know him, can you?’ Jarrod’s heart ached for Heath’s safety and his own clemency. “We’ll find him Nick. I swear it.” Jarrod’s hand rested calm and cool against Nick’s shoulder reassuring his younger brother they stood together this time.

Nick walked to the water trough to stretch his legs before riding again. He pumped some water and drank from his hands. He stuck his head under the tap and let the cold water run off his head and neck. He recalled his last conversation with Heath. His brother had tried to make him understand that some things could not be forgotten. Heath had tried to forgive but couldn’t do it soon enough to make staying with Bentell a possibility. Nick thought of his own hatred. He’d been wild, reckless and determined to kill his father’s murderer. He hadn’t been the one to do it, bit it brought him peace. He felt no remorse for the death. It was only then that he had been able to put his hate aside and grieve for the father he loved. Justice had been served or maybe it was vengeance, but it served the same end as far as Nick was concerned, it had brought his family peace of mind and yet they denied Heath the same.

Nick wondered why he had sent Heath away with his enemy instead of embracing ‘him’, protecting ‘him’? like he had Handy Random. What had they asked of Heath? Why had they asked Heath to protect the man guilty of countless death’s he had witnessed and more that he had not seen at Carterson? Nick wondered if his mother would have sent him to protect the man that had killed their father from the bounty hunters they’d enticed with a rich reward? No, never. Would he have stepped in front of Handy Random’s gun to protect the murderer? No. Heath had done just that and Nick knew he had asked his little brother to do it. Tears threatened and Nick allowed anger and blame to take control.

His mother had been wrong, Nick thought. She never stopped hating; she just stopped living by it. They had all been blind. Nick began to understand why Heath decided to leave. The family’s decision, his voice among them, was what drove his brother away. Protecting Matt Bentell wouldn’t erase the past it would only put Heath in the line of fire of anyone trying to kill the man. Love, loyalty and understanding could have eased the pain of his past, but his family had found it impossible to give those things to the man they called brother and son. Now he was lost and possibly dead because of them, his so called family.

Jarrod watched his brother storm off then turned his attention to Bentell. “What happened?”

“We were up on the east ridge. The Condons had set the fire to draw me out. It worked, only Heath caught Gil and stopped him from blowing us all to kingdom come. Gil hit him and Heath fell. He hit his head on a rock. I was just getting back to the wagon and saw it. I was able to get Gil away from Heath and the wagon.” Bentell shrugged, “like I said, I tried to bring him in but he fought me and ran. I had no choice. I had to leave.” Bentell finished and Jarrod maintained a cold stare. “I’ll take you there. I’ve got crews out searching.”

“He saved you, twice. Risked his life twice and you had no choice but to leave him there? Jarrod’s voice turned up in anger and disgust with Bentell and himself.” Jarrod felt betrayed and betrayer. Heath had done exactly what he’d been asked. He’d protected Bentell. But whom had he sent to protect Heath? The answer was clear, no one.

“I tried. Believe me Jarrod.” Bentell swore. “He wouldn’t let me.”

“You didn’t try hard enough.” Jarrod was angrier at himself. “Heath didn’t think about whether he had a choice. He just did what he needed to, twice. Why didn’t you?” He probably thought he didn’t have a choice. Jarrod realized he had taken that away and his anger rose.

“What was I supposed to do? Die for the likes of him?” Bentell became defensive. Jarrod was asking too much. The next thing he knew he was on the ground holding his face. Jarrod was pulling him up and Nick was quickly approaching.

Lucinda Bentell could see it was not going well for her husband. He had asked her to let him handle things but now she thought he was going to be hurt. “You leave him be!” Mrs. Bentell stood at her husband’s side. “Why did you send him, surely you knew this could happen. How dare you blame Matthew. He was just doing his job.”

“Just doing his job.” Jarrod narrowed his eyes. “That seems to get a lot of people killed now doesn’t it?”

“He was alive when I left him.”

“When you left him.” Jarrod accused.

“What’s going on?” If Jarrod was ready to fight Bentell, Nick wanted to be in on it and pushed through. As suddenly as he’d come to the quick, Nick lost his strength and his drive. That was all Heath had expected of him. Join him in his fight against Bentell.

Lucinda Bentell saw the fire go out of both brothers and helped her husband stand. "You see Matthew. This was no different. Not even the Barkleys can change things. I told you we should have left."

Bentell touched his face and then checked it for blood. He looked at Nick then at Jarrod from the ground. Lucinda looked sharply at the two brothers as her husband rose. "Matthew is not the one that chased him away. It's you that left him alone on that ridge." She accused

The truth of that remark hit its’ mark and sliced Nick's heart. He couldn't stand around talking any longer. He strode toward the corral to fetch new horses. Coco and Jingo needed food, water and rest. Nick heard a familiar nicker and saw Charger when he went in through the gate. "Whoa boy. Easy now." Charger was full of energy and happy to see Nick who stroked his nose lovingly. Charger was a familiar part of his brother and Nick was gladdened by that presence. It gave him the feeling that Heath was close by. Nick patted Charger on the shoulder and flank as he checked for signs of harm. "Hey boy, Heath'll be glad you're alright. You ready to go find him? Huh, boy, sure y'are.” Nick was talking mostly to himself.

Jarrod reevaluated what possible allegiance he might have to the man. Why had he sent Heath into a situation he had known was dangerous? He'd sent Heath precisely because it was dangerous. Jarrod looked at Bentell and saw a small man, a man not close to Heath's stature. Bentell was a weak man. That realization dawned on Jarrod and he began to feel contempt for the man. What did Jarrod care about this man? In truth, nothing. How had he missed that? Did he think Heath was expendable or invincible? Jarrod took the burden alone. He had knowingly created the situation and sent his brother into it defenseless. Would he ever have the chance to put things right? "How could you just leave him there? He saved your life twice. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?" Jarrod saddened with the dawning realization of the implications of his fateful plan.

Bentell's Hackles went up. ”You sent him up here to protect me. That’s what he did. You sent me up here to get this flume built. That’s what I’m doing. I didn't fail him. He was leaving because he couldn't do the job you gave him. My identity became known because you advised it. This whole incident could have been avoided, but you sent him here to solve something that is bigger than all of us. I've run into the prisoners from Carterson a time or two. They say they want to kill me. They threaten to kill me. But not one of them has been able to do it. I know it's not because of who I am or what they think I did but because of what they are. In prison, under my command, they saw themselves clearly, they were animals, Mr. Barkley." Bentell stared at Jarrod. "Your brother was one of them. Yes he saved my life, but he couldn't live with that and was leaving." Bentell curled the corner of his lips just enough to set Jarrod off again and Bentell found himself in the dirt with a swollen lip. This time he spat blood.

"And we'll find him! But we won't forget about this. Heath was right. Some things cannot be forgotten and some things should not be forgotten. A man with no regard for the lives of those in his charge should not be put in a position to lead them. We will have to let you go after all, Bentell." Jarrod had figured it out and was determined to begin to make things right with Heath. He could only pray that it was not already too late.

"What about the flume. Surely you…? This is not my fault."

"I don't care about the damn flume or the damn money or you." Jarrod looked at the face of the man he'd employed. "I need to find Heath."

Bentell was dumbfounded, outraged at his dismissal. "Mr. Barkley surely you see none of this was my fault. What's done is done. Why abandon the whole operation over a tragic accident."

"I didn't say it was your fault. I said that you failed him. It was my mistake, my fault that he felt he had to risk his life for yours and I pray he can forgive me. You are nowhere near the man he is. This so called accident will be investigated."

Heath woke confused with a crushing headache. He flinched at the last lingering rays of light that shot through the branches and spun the ground around him. He vomited at the intrusion unable to stop the spasms that stole his breath, caused further explosions in his head and left him curled on his side. He lay still under the tattered canopy remembering the fire, Carterson, Aaron, Gil and Matt Bentell. Images and memories flooded him. He knew he was no longer in the prison. He didn't know how but he'd made it through the tunnel and over the fence. No, there'd been a fire. They were free, liberated. Gil was sick. Aaron had betrayed them. He was free, Gil and Aaron were free. Slowly, his eyes focused and the ground became firm and stable beneath him. His mind remained tangled. "I must’a made it out." He laughed until he cried at the memories he'd never escape. "I made it out, he breathed. Heath forced himself upright. He made it to the creek bed and staggered down the ridge to lose himself in the trees. He fell often, adding scrapes to his already bloody body. He didn't yet feel the open wounds and splinters marking his body.

Heath didn't call out. He wouldn't give his position away. He stayed low and listened for anyone following. He stumbled along, his legs giving out intermittently but he forced himself on. He knew Bentell would send the dogs, but he doubted he had any human smell left, all he smelled was death. He wandered deep into the trees until he fell unconscious still looking for the union army.

....Continued