Jim Walters smiled at his ‘prize’ – he had hoped to get both the girl and the boy, but the boy would have to suffice.

He had come back down to verify that he had actually done it – that Paul, bound and gagged in his basement, was not just a dream. But something he had planned and carried out.

This was for Ryan – Dr. Scott had cost him his son, and now he would repay the favor.

Paul stared at him warily and Jim smiled, “You really have no idea why you are here do you?”

The teen shook his head, and Walters scoffed, “Because of your old man, son. He killed my son, and now I’m going to kill his.”

Pulling the handgun out of his waistband, Jim lined it up in the center of Paul’s forehead.

“One little bang,” the madman said, “shouldn’t really bother the neighbors, now will it?’

Feeling the perspiration beading on his forehead, Paul closed his eyes and waited for the inevitable – he was about to die.

* * *

Laura had already knocked on the door by the time Fenton and his father caught up to her. She ignored the scowl on Fenton’s face, as she was only concerned with one thing now – finding her brother and getting him home, safely.

When no one answered the door, she proceeded to press the door bell.

“Guess no one’s home,” she started to say, but then stopped and looked at the door expectantly when they heard heavy footsteps inside the house.

“Hi—” she started to say, but then gasped in shock as she recognized the man who answered the door. It was the guy from the stable!

* * *

Jim had just started to squeeze the trigger when he heard someone at the door.

“Damnit,” he hissed – if he shot the kid with someone right outside, they’d know it came from his house for sure.

“Don’t go anywhere,” he said with a little chuckle, “I’ll be right back!” And then he hurried upstairs to get rid of whoever was at the door, just as the doorbell rang.

And when he opened it up and saw Dr. Scott’s daughter standing on his doorstep, he knew he’d been caught.  Slamming the door, he raced towards the basement. They might catch him but not before he could get rid of the kid!

            * * *                 

Paul heard Jim running down the stairs as he struggled furiously to get loose. But it was no use and moments later, when Jim came flying down into the basement, he didn’t know what to do.

* * *

Ignoring the pain it would cause, Fenton drew back his leg and gave a powerful kick to the door.

Laura put her hands over her mouth to stifle a scream at the unexpected action. She knew that Paul was in there somewhere – she knew deep down.

And as Fenton hurried into the house, drawing his service revolver as he did, she started to go after him, but Francis Hardy grabbed her arm.

“No,” the retired cop said, “We have to wait out here. Don’t want to give Walters too many targets!”  Like Fenton, his shrewd eyes had seen the gun tucked into the man’s waistband, and he just prayed that they weren’t too late. Or that Fenton himself didn’t become one target too many!

As much as she wanted to go in and get her brother, Laura knew Fenton’s father was right…so she waited outside and prayed.

* * *

This time, Paul didn’t close his eyes when he saw Jim line up the gun to shoot him. This time, he lunged at the man, catching him in the stomach with his shoulder and bowling him back across the basement.

If Paul’s feet weren’t tied, he might have escaped….

* * *

Fenton hit the top of the stairs just as Paul made his move, and, as he raced down them, he knew he would never make it in time. And then everything happened in slow motion.

As Jim pulled up his gun to fire at Paul, Fenton hesitated for one second to line up his shot….And then fired as well….

Both guns went off simultaneously, and the sound was deafening…. And then came the quiet.

* * *

Laura heard the sound of gunfire, and lunged out of Francis’s grip, but the retired cop still had good reflexes and managed to restrain her before she could get inside.

“PAUL!” she was screaming, “PAUL!”  She had felt it…she knew it…her brother had been shot….

* * *

Jim Walters was dead…. Fenton knew that without even looking at him. The shot he had lined up had been lethal. There had been no other choice.

So Fenton wasn’t worried about Jim at all, as he fell to his knees next to Paul. 

“CALL FOR AN AMBULANCE!” he shouted even as he quickly untied Paul’s hands and then rolled the teen gently onto his back so he could take a look at the wound.

Fenton grimaced, but then hid his concern behind a smile when he saw the most vibrant blue eyes flicker open and look up at him.

“I…never…had a…big brother,” Paul gasped as Fenton tried to keep pressure on his wound. The teen fumbled until he found the cop’s hand, and when he did, he stared intently into the concerned brown eyes watching him. “but…but if I did… I would…want him…to…be…just like you….”

Fenton felt his eyes tear up. “Oh, kid – don’t go giving up on us now.”

Paul managed a smile, and Fenton saw the blood trickle down the side of his mouth – where the hell was that ambulance?

And then the boy shook his head.  “Take…care…of Larry…for me…please…”

Fenton nodded, not trusting his voice, and then he felt the teenager go limp in his arms.  “Paul? Paul?” He shook him gently and then felt for a pulse.

The cop finally gave into the emotions he had been trying to hold back when he first saw how bad the injury was.

Leaning over, he gently closed the vibrant blue eyes that would never look on another day…as he smiled sadly down at the child who would never be thrown from his contemptuous horse again.

“Oh kiddo, “the cop whispered, “you were a good little brother….And I’ll take care of Larry. You have my word on it.”

In the background he could finally hear the sound of the ambulance siren, but it was too late for Paul Octavius Scott.