Page 14 of Killer Moonshine

“Shit,” muttered Bull. “We need to get her to the clinic.”

Trak lifted the young woman, gently carrying her through the bar.

“Hey! Where you takin’ her?” asked a man. Trak said nothing, continuing to walk. Otto followed, and Bull turned to them.

“We’re getting her to a hospital. She’s burned badly and hurt.”

“She ain’t got no insurance. You’re gonna have to take her to charity,” said a woman.

“Does she have family you can call?”

“Not that I know of,” said the woman. “Her name’s Lydia.”

“Thank you,” said Bull, running after his friends.

Trak was already wrapping her in a blanket from the medical kit, the special material ensuring it wouldn’t stick to her burned flesh. He lay her on the floor of the boat. Beneath the bench, he pulled out the rest of the first-aid kit and tapped comms.

“Female, eighteen years of age, multiple lacerations with metal shards in her flesh, burns from the moonshine still.”

“Trak, this is Riley. Don’t pull anything out. Something could have hit an artery, and as long as it’s in, she’ll be okay. Is she conscious?”

“For now. Sort of. She’s in shock,” he said, looking down at her once pretty face.

Bull took the boat through the bayou as quickly as he could without jostling the poor girl. Trak kept speaking to her, telling her about his own two daughters and his wife. He even apologized for appearing too gruff. She had tears in her eyes, and it was cutting him like a knife.

When they landed the boat, Doc, Kennedy, Kelsey, and Cruz were waiting with a stretcher on the back of the ATV.

“Jesus. Set her down, Trak,” said Doc. He didn’t move, staring at the girl. “Trak, brother, I need you to put her down. We need to get her to trauma.”

Trak just stared at the girl, then up at Doc. Cruz touched his arm, reaching for the girl.

“Let me have her, brother. We’ve got her.” He reluctantly released her into Cruz’s arms, watching as they strapped her to the stretcher.

“Her name is Lydia,” said Trak. “Lydia. She’s eighteen. She’s just eighteen.”

“We got it, Trak,” said Doc. As they disappeared down the long tree-lined path, Trak just stood there. Nine, Ian, Ghost, and Gaspar came running toward them.

“We heard on comms. What the fuck happened? Are you guys okay?”

“We’re not sure what happened,” said Bull. “We’re all good, but the little girl running the bar is burned and cut up bad. She’s a mess, brother.”

“She’s eighteen. Her name is Lydia,” said Trak robotically.

“Brother, we got her. We’ll get her fixed up,” said Ian.

“She’s just a damn kid,” said Otto. “A kid was running that bar because she needed the fucking money. She said somebody hadn’t done their job, and she grabbed a wrench and went out to where the still was located. Next thing we knew, it was up in flames.”

“Was there anyone else there?” asked Nine.

“Not that we saw, but someone could have left through the back trails or around the other parts of the bayou,” said Bull. Trak turned to stare at Nine.

“She’s only eighteen.” Nine frowned as Wilson started toward them.

“Trak, we’re going to help her,” said Wilson.

“She’s only eighteen.”

CHAPTER TEN

---