Cade
instinctively brought the gun up to fire, but it took him about one
second to realize he was a half-second too slow. He got one off; it
might have been a hit, but his big brother charged right through it
and tackled Cade so hard he though he might pass out. The gun flew
off into a bush as Matt landed on top with crushing force.
Cade
was a calm, disciplined fighter, and his brother never became
anything but a brawler. He wrestled with his brother, intending to
subdue him, smack him across the face a few times, and find out what
he was on to make him go crazy like this. He quickly gained
the advantage, pinned the good arm, and thought it might be over. But
Matt strained with the other arm, the one with the titanium shoulder,
and it made a sickening popping/grinding noise as he threw him off
like a bull throws its rider when it decides it has had enough.
Before Cade knew it, he was flying through the air, shocked at the
strength and disregard for pain he had just witnessed. That was
impossible. Last I knew he couldn’t even shoot a basketball, let
alone throw a 220-pound guy around with one arm. Then he hit the back
wall and crumpled to the ground, all thoughts gone.
When
they were growing up, they fought sometimes, as brothers, especially
two so close in age, like to do. They were always fairly
well-matched, and as adults often joked about their unbeaten record
against the other. Truth is, they always fought to a draw, because
neither one, in his heart, really wanted to win. They were brothers,
and that trumped whatever game or girl they felt was worth fighting
over at any given time during their fleeting adolescence.
This
time, Matt clearly wanted to win. Matt was pounding on his little
brother, not caring where the blows landed. He was repeating his
mantra of “Whereisshe? Whereisshe?” His voice grew more and more
hysterical with each repetition. Cade covered up as best he could,
but he was taking a lot of punishment. He heard his wife screaming
from the balcony and then run inside. He knew she was heading to him,
to help him, to save him. He wanted to scream at her to stay inside or run, but
he had no breath.
He’s
going to kill me, Cade thought. My brother’s going to beat me to
death, and then go after Liss, and I’ll never know why. He thought
he heard sirens off in the distance, but he couldn’t be sure. He
focused on the only thing he could: keeping Matt busy for as long as
possible. He took several brutal blows to his face, and he knew it
just wouldn’t be long enough.
Then,
a shattering of glass, and a terrifying growl. He had forgotten all
about Loki, but Loki had forgotten nothing. It had only been about
thirty seconds since Matt had first broken the picture window, and
Loki had been working his way through it. He launched himself, all
sixty pounds of him, at his master’s attacker with a fury Cade
always wondered about, but never thought he’d actually see. He tore
into whatever he could grab, and Matt moved off Cade.
Good
boy, he thought as he fought unconsciousness. That’s my good boy.
Liss burst out of the house, carrying the aluminum baseball bat that
he stored under the bed for, well, for something like this, he
guessed. Matt threw Loki off and moved for her, but the dog was back
on him instantly. She swung, catching him square in the chest; he
staggered a bit from the blow, a dog was shredding his leg, and still
he moved for her.
Stubbornly
clinging to life, Cade struggled to his feet. They didn’t abandon
me … least I can do...
Liss
swung again, but Matt moved in and punched her in the jaw, driving her
backwards. She collapsed, out cold. Matt grabbed the bat, and the
look in his eye was both vacant and homicidal at once. Cade could do
nothing but stumble to his unconscious wife and cover her up with his battered body.
He saw that his brother had raised the bat for the killing stroke.
Cade had just enough energy left to whisper, "Why,
Matty?"
Two
shots rang out in quick succession. They weren’t police-issue
handguns. He wasn’t positive, but it sounded suspiciously like his
neighbor’s rifle, the reports echoing in his head as he slipped
into darkness.
