Burton looked ghastly. There was no other word for it.
‘Is it over?’ Farrah whispered. She looked up at Gideon. ‘Please say it’s over.’
Gideon nodded once. ‘It’s—’
But he didn’t get to finish, because Ephraim Burton jerked, a quiet pop filling the air. The man toppled over as they watched in shock.
Farrah screamed. Then gagged.
Because half of Burton’s head was gone, his brain matter spattered over all of them.
Mercy stared in shock. No, more than shock. Her expression was slack, her eyes vacant. This was the disassociation he’d seen at the airport. Helplessly Rafe squeezed her a little too hard, trying to give her that little bit of pain she needed to defuse the panic.
‘Mercy. Mercy.’ But he’d missed that little bubble of quiet space she’d spoken of, that moment it took to center herself and stop the panic attack in its tracks. So he held her. It was all he could do. ‘Gideon?’
Gideon was still staring at Burton’s body. ‘Who . . . who shot him? I didn’t.’
At that moment Amos came running from the other side of the SUV, rifle in hand, and Gideon’s expression hardened. Coming to his feet, he bellowed, ‘What the hell, Amos? I had him subdued.’
Amos ignored Gideon’s question. ‘Mercy! Get her down!’ he shouted, and a second later Rafe had been knocked over, Mercy still in his arms and Amos covering them both, having mowed them down with his body. Rafe felt Amos’s body jerk above his, just as Burton’s had done.
What the hell? What the fuck was happening?
‘Oh no. Oh no.’ Gideon fell to his knees. ‘Amos? Oh my God.’
Then there was a loud crack of gunfire, coming from the trees nearest the SUV. Daisy was still out there. What the actual hell? Why had she fired her rifle?
‘Get him off me,’ Rafe gasped, pushing at Amos, but the man was dead weight. ‘What’s happening? Who shot him? Did Daisy shoot him?’ He didn’t know if he meant Burton or Amos or both of them. His thoughts were beginning to fray, his head spinning from the impact with the ground.
‘I don’t know.’ Then Gideon’s numb-sounding voice hardened in urgent command. ‘Farrah, get Mercy into the SUV. We have an active shooter.’
Rafe heard Daisy’s voice, getting louder as she came closer. She was running and out of breath. ‘That last shot was me. It was DJ who shot Burton. He was trying to shoot Mercy, but Amos . . .’ She looked at Amos’s still form in dismay. ‘Oh God. He shot Amos?’ Not waiting for a reply, she squared her shoulders, charging into action as she usually did. ‘I’ll get the first-aid kit. Farrah, come with me, honey. Gideon, get Amos off Mercy. I’ll come back for her in a second.’
Rafe’s head was still spinning from hitting it on the ground, and, coupled with Daisy’s whirlwind of energy, he was unable to think clearly. ‘Amos? You okay?’
‘No, he’s not okay,’ Gideon said briskly. ‘He’s been shot.’
Oh right. Daisy said that. Amos was shot. Amos’s weight disappeared, Gideon having rolled him off Rafe and Mercy. ‘Oh no,’ Rafe breathed. Amos was bleeding and it appeared to be from a neck wound.
Daisy ran back to them, a first-aid kit in her hands.
‘Thank you.’ Gideon took the kit. ‘Can you move Schumacher’s SUV? Park it between our SUV and the trees across the road. If DJ comes back, I want cover. We’re sitting ducks here. I want SUVs on both sides.’
Daisy ran to do as he asked.
‘DJ?’ Rafe asked thickly, not sure he’d heard her correctly.
‘That’s what she said. Just wait until she comes back. I need to get Amos’s wound packed and I’m not . . .’ Gideon grimaced. ‘I’m not okay right now.’
A minute later they were sheltered between the two SUVs. Daisy jumped out of the vehicle she’d moved, dropping to her knees next to Gideon, who glanced up at her, his jaw taut. ‘Explain, please. Slowly.’
‘Amos saw DJ first,’ Daisy said, taking over Gideon’s task, putting pressure on Amos’s wound. ‘That’s the name that Amos said right after Burton fell over. Then I saw him too, when he stepped out into the open. DJ was aiming for you and Mercy, Rafe. That’s why Amos was running. That’s why he threw himself over you. The shot you heard was me, trying to stop him. I did hit him, but it wasn’t enough to take him down. He’d shot Amos by that point and I guess he decided to retreat. He got away on a dirt bike, through the forest. He’s gone. For now, anyway.’
Rafe stared, his thoughts running in slow motion. ‘DJ Belmont, the one who killed Mercy’s mother?’
Daisy nodded grimly. ‘And the one who unwittingly helped Amos escape Eden.’
‘How do you know you hit him?’ Gideon asked.
‘Because he dropped his rifle. He picked it up and ran for the dirt bike. If he’d been able to, he would have kept firing, so I assume he’s injured badly enough to keep him from shooting, but he’s not dead. Unfortunately. Is Mercy hurt?’
Rafe had already checked her for injuries. ‘I don’t think so. This is what she calls her zombie episodes.’
Daisy lightly stroked Mercy’s face. ‘Honey?’
But there was no response. Shit.
Do something. At least for Amos. Rafe patted his pockets, searching for his phone to call 911, but Gideon was already calling, telling the operator where they were, and then he hung up. ‘I have to leave my phone open. We have other issues.’
Rafe frowned. ‘What other issues?’
‘Hunter and I found the SWAT team about a quarter mile on the other side of the coordinates. Of the six men, four were dead. The other two are injured badly. Molina’s also hurt. Tom’s with them now.’
‘What about Damien?’ Rafe demanded. ‘And André?’
‘They’re okay. I was running back here to you guys when I heard the shot. That was Ephraim, shooting at André, but he missed. Damien was still in the camper. André was trying to follow Burton, because he’d taken Farrah. André said that Burton ran them off the road, then drugged them. Burton was going to shoot André and Damien right before I got there, but Farrah kicked him almost in the nuts. Enough to send him off-kilter. That’s when he left with her to come here.’
Rafe shuddered, fear for his brother slowly ebbing away. ‘What about Agent Schumacher?’ he asked, although he thought he already knew and dreaded the answer. ‘She was circling around to get to Ephraim from behind. The way you came. But she never came back.’