Lost Souls J. Bishop (motivational books for students .txt) 📖

to die, but one more surge of strength shot through her and she scratched at his hands. The lack of air, though, made her vision blur, her ears ring and her strength ebb. Pure terror flooded her and she said a prayer for forgiveness that she couldn’t fight harder.

A thunderous bellow shattered the roar in her ears and something white and red shot out of the woods and tackled Bradley. The weight suddenly off of her, Mikey held her throat as the air whooshed back into her lungs. She coughed and gagged. Getting to her knees, she heard and saw the scuffle. A man was on top of Bradley, and he was slugging him in the face, over and over.

Mikey blinked, trying to get her bearings and catch her breath, and she recognized the wild man as Mason. The red and white she’d noticed was his blood-soaked white shirt. Her momentary relief that her brother was alive turned to terror again when she realized the seriousness of Mason’s injury. Mikey struggled to stand, wanting to help, but not knowing how. Mason continued to beat up Bradley, but Bradley began to fight back, and got his own punches in. Mason flinched, and Bradley took advantage. He attacked Mason’s wounds, and Mason, weak and at a disadvantage, fell back.

Bradley scrambled to get away, but Mason came again, punching and fighting. Bruised, his head and nose bleeding, Bradley grabbed at Mason’s shoulder and squeezed. Mason cried out and toppled.

“Mason,” yelled Mikey, with a croak.

Bradley scurried away, and Mason tried again, but Bradley was faster, and he kicked at Mason, knocking him back. Wounded and gasping, Bradley stood, his shirt ripped and his hair askew. He reached around his back and pulled his gun.

Mason got to his feet with Mikey’s help, and wobbled. He was covered in dirt and leaves, and blood ran from his sodden shirt and onto his pants. Breathing rapidly, he pushed Mikey. “Get behind me,” he said.

“Mason, no,” said Mikey, holding his arm.

“Run,” he said, trying to get her to move. “Into the trees.”

“No. I’m not leaving you.”

Bradley held the gun. “Isn’t that sweet? Somehow I don’t think Lydia would do the same for me.” He wiped the sweat from a swelling eye. “Time to say goodbye to both of you.” He aimed the gun.

Mikey braced and held onto Mason, who shoved Mikey back, and stood between her and Bradley. Mikey clutched at him and screamed, anticipating the shots. Three rapid fire booms shattered the quiet of the woods. Mason jumped and Mikey closed her eyes, but when Mason remained upright, she opened them. Bradley stood, his gun arm drooping, with three spots of blood dotting his shirt. The blood stains grew and began to streak down Bradley’s chest. He stood for a second but his arm fell along with the gun, his knees buckled and he collapsed into the dirt.

Mikey didn’t move, unsure of what had happened, and Mason looked back. Mikey followed his gaze and saw Trick standing behind a tree, his arm up and holding a weapon.

Relief flooded through her, but shock prevented her from moving or even speaking. Trick ran up, passed them and stood over Bradley. He squatted, took Bradley’s gun and checked for a pulse. “Bye, bye Bradley.” He straightened and came over, putting both guns in his waistband. “You two okay?”

Mason, still breathing hard and looking ashen, wobbled again. “Where the hell have you been?”

Trick looked over Mason. “Thought I’d take a hike first. Pretty country. Did you catch the wildflowers on the trail?”

Mason grunted and turned toward Mikey, who fell into his arms and hugged him. The relief of seeing him alive and surviving her own encounter with Bradley rushed over her, and she couldn’t hold back her tears.

He hugged her back. “Are you all right?” he whispered.

She nodded into his neck.

He held her for a second, but she felt the warmth of his blood, and pulled away. “You’re hurt.” Her gruff voice caught, and she wiped her tears.

“You need a hospital,” said Trick, taking Mason’s arm.

“I’m okay,” he said. “Just a scratch.”

“You’re bleeding like a water bucket full of holes,” said Trick. “Hold onto me.” He grabbed Mason’s arm and slung it over his shoulder.

Mason tried to walk, but stumbled. Mikey tried to support him from the other side. “I suppose you think this means that I owe you twice,” said Mason, his voice weak.

“I’ll make you a deal,” said Trick. “You don’t die, and we’ll call it even.”

“I’m fine. Check on Mikey,” said Mason.

“I’m okay,” Mikey’s voice broke. Her body ached, her throat throbbed, and her cheek burned, but she tried her best to hold up Mason, who was getting heavier and slowing his pace. If he collapsed, it could take hours to get him help.

“C’mon, partner,” said Trick. “It’s called one foot in front of the other. Don’t pass out on me.”

Mason grimaced and almost stumbled again. “I’m trying.” He took a slow step. “Where’s Shay…or is it Serita?”

“You mean Lydia. Valerie shot her.”

“Valerie’s here?” asked Mason. “She shot Lydia?”

“I’ll explain later. Valerie found you in the barn, remember?” said Trick. “I think she likes you.”

Mason attempted a smile. “Of course, she does.”

“There’s no accounting for taste, but if you want to pursue the lovely Miss Vain, we’ve got to get your ass back and patched up. So keep moving.” Trick shifted and adjusted his grip and Mikey did the same.

“I’m tired,” said Mason.

“You have to keep going,” said Mikey, feeling her own exhaustion sap her strength.

“Hang in there, Red. Don’t give up on me,” said Trick.

Mason slowed further, his head bobbed, and Mikey began to shake from exertion and worry, when she heard her name called from a distance.

“Mikey? Mason?” Men’s voices reverberated through the woods.

Trick stopped and yelled back. “Here. We’re over here.”

Mikey almost dropped to her knees when she saw movement and Rem and Daniels, along with two uniformed policemen, darted out of the trees.

**

Rem heard the yell and spotted the threesome. “There,” he said.

“I see