Fatal Frost by Nancy Mehl

Author:Nancy Mehl
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: FIC042040;FIC042060;FIC027110
Publisher: Baker Publishing Group
Published: 2016-10-03T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter

Eighteen

Mark waited until he was certain the gunfire had ceased before rolling off Mercy. As soon as he braced his arm against the floor, pain shot through him. Involuntarily he cried out.

“I’m a U.S. Deputy Marshal,” Mercy said angrily. “You don’t need to protect me from . . .” Her expression then changed from resentment to concern. “Mark! Are you okay?” Still on her hands and knees, she began looking him over.

“I think so,” Mark said thickly, “but I’m hit.”

“You’ve been shot in the upper right arm,” she said. “Looks like the bullet passed right through. We need to stop the bleeding.” She crawled over to the refrigerator and pulled a dish towel from where it hung on the door handle. She wrapped the towel tightly around his arm just above the wound. “I’ll wrap it as tight as I can for now—I’ll do more as soon as I figure out what’s going on. Stay here.”

Mark tried to sit up, but immediately he felt himself start to black out. He couldn’t protect Mercy if he was unconscious. He had no choice but to stay put. He watched as she slowly crawled across the floor. She needed to ascertain the shooter’s position so they’d know how to protect themselves. Mark prayed that the house hadn’t already been breached. He reached across his chest to his holster and pulled his gun out with his left hand. He wasn’t much of a shot with his weaker hand, but he could still shoot someone who got too close to them.

He scooted around the corner of the kitchen cabinets so he wouldn’t lose sight of her. After getting to the couch, she waited a moment before coming around the side and putting herself out in the open. Though they’d turned off the main light in the living room, there was a lamp on a nearby table that gave off enough illumination to make it easy to see if someone was watching the room. There were no more gunshots as she approached the table and switched off the light. At least now she wasn’t such an obvious target.

She got up and crept toward the front of the house, keeping her head down. The plywood they’d placed on the side of the door earlier was shredded now by bullets, the glass on both sides shattered. If anyone wanted to gain access to the house, it wouldn’t be difficult. Mercy glanced back at him. He’d pulled himself up to a sitting position, leaning back against one of the kitchen cabinets. His head swam, yet he was able to stay conscious. He had to be awake to help her. Nothing else mattered.

“Stay there,” she called out. “If you move around, you’ll lose more blood.”

He nodded while keeping a tight grip on the gun in his left hand.

Mercy peeked outside through the broken windows, her gun in front of her ready to fire. She turned back toward Mark. “These shots came from a distance,” she said. “I doubt the shooter knows he hit anyone.

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