Demon Trackers: The Anointed

part thirty-four

Jake couldn't move. His entire body seemed to have shut down. Dad and Cal were gone. They couldn't have survived that blast.

The last of the gremlins were hightailing it across the field, frightened off by the explosion.

"On your feet! Help me!" Doc Wal pulled on Jake's arm, hauling him up. The young man went with him compliantly, staggering across the ground. He didn't want to go, was so afraid to see the charred remains, but he had to, had to see for himself and he didn't have any fight left in him to even resist an old country veterinarian anyway.

At the smoldering ruin that moments ago was a barn, Doc Wal lifted a blackened smoking board off a pile of boards and broken walls, but flinched back. "Ow, ow!" Pulling his sleeves down like gloves, the doc tackled the board again and threw it aside. "Gonna help me?"

Something snapped in Jake, primal and possessive. Damn stupid gremlins weren't taking away his family. Jake attacked the wreckage with a vengeance, tossing boards aside. If there was any chance…Jake held onto that hope, strangled it into a chokehold and braced it steady. He had to believe, had to keep digging even as his brain hammered that it wasn't possible. No one could live through that and all he'd find were their corpses.

"What…?" Jake wrestled a sheared beam out, making the entire pile groan and shift. "How did this happen?"

Doc Wal rolled another large beam away from a taller pile of boards. It thumped to the ground, kicking up a cloud of ash. "Kept fertilizer back here." He shook a piece of burning wood off his sleeve, patting it out. "Ammonium nitrate?"

Same kind of fertilizer wannabe unibombers packed homemade explosives with. Grossly unstable. Just one little spark…What was left of Jake's shredded heart dropped straight to his toes.

The next beam Doc rolled off clanked against metal. "Kid. Here."

Jake raced over, pulse pounding. "What? What do you got?"

"Water trough."

Jake's gaze flew to the pile the vet had been uncovering. Just as he said, underneath the boards was a large upside-down iron tub—the kind farmers used to fill water for their livestock. It came as high as Jake's waist and was plenty enough wide to fit two men. Jake quickly shoved off the remaining boards and banged on the metal.

They both paused, waiting for an answering tap that never came. Enough waiting, Jake pushed on the trough, ignoring the heat burning through the fabric of his sleeves. Doc pushed beside him, but they couldn't budge it. The solid metal was too heavy.

Jake's hopes sank. "How could my dad lift that?"

"Didn't have to." Doc kicked through the wreckage, looking for something. "Trough was already upside down and I had one side propped up by a concrete block to keep it aired out. All Henry would've had to do was roll under and kick the block out. It's what I would have done. Here. Help me wrangle this in there."

Doc brought one of the beams over and together, inch by inch, they managed to get the flat end beneath the lip of the trough. Pushing down on the other end, they slowly began to lever one side of the heavy tub off the ground.

"I got this," Jake groaned, muscles bunching. "Wedge something under it."

He felt the beam push back up when the vet let go, but Jake bore down, holding it steady, hearing the doc move things around.

"All right. Got it."

Cautiously, loosening his grip, Jake breathed easy when the pressure on the beam eased and the trough didn't fall. He dropped to his knees, not caring about the hot cinders catching on his jeans. Two other smoldering beams propped the tub up. Doc Wal's head nearly touched the ground as he bent over knobby knees, trying to see inside.

Jake got his head right up next to the vet's and sucked in a breath. Dad's boots and Cal's filthy socks. He could see them. They were both whole, not blown to bits. He reached in, grabbed Cal's bare calf, needing something real to ground him. Relief speared through his core, so sudden and powerful Jake felt himself slipping, nearly swayed against the tub. He curled his fingers around Cal's leg and steeled himself. Had to hold it together. Had to get them out.

"Cal! Dad!" He shook Cal's leg. No response.

"Dammit." Jake wriggled underneath, shifting Cal's knees up to make room in the cramped space. It was stifling inside, like a sauna. There was barely enough light to see, but what Jake could make out froze the blood in his veins. His brother and father were both on their sides, Henry spooning Cal with his arms across the kid, holding Cal's hands to his chest as though his dad had pulled Cal's hands in to keep them from getting crushed under the falling edge of the trough. Droplets of sweat pebbled their skin, soaked their shirts. They looked peaceful, like they were merely sleeping, the close resemblance startling—smooth light brows, black lashes, blonde hair stuck to their foreheads, hard defiant jaws relaxed and still.

Horrifyingly still.

Jake placed his palms over both their chests, waiting for the lift he knew wasn't coming. "They're not breathing!"

"Pass them out to me." Doc's hands reached inside.

Cal was closest so Jake dragged the kid's upper body to the tub's edge, helping the vet scoot Cal beneath the lip until his sibling's boxers, then legs and feet disappeared. Without waiting for Doc Wal to come back, Jake began rolling and wrangling his dad out the same way. By the time he had him out the doctor was back and they carried him out of the wreckage together, laying him down in the flattened grass next to Cal.

"They're not breathing!" Jake cried, kneeling next to Cal. Oh Gods, how long had they gone without air? How long had it taken them to find them?

"I'd expect as much." Doc was checking Henry's wrist for a pulse. "Explosion like that burns hot, but flashes out quick. Would have sucked up all the oxygen."

He was saying they suffocated. Jake started shaking, his shoulders slumping over Cal. Doc Wal grabbed his arms, shook him as hard as a slap. "CPR now!"

He didn't even ask if Jake knew how, just assumed he did. And thank the Gods that was something their dad had taught them both. Without questioning, Jake positioned Cal and pressed his mouth over the kid's, knowing the vet was doing the same for his dad.

They worked in tandem, neither speaking between breaths, neither giving up. All the while Jake's brain screamed an increasing litany: breathe breathe breathe BREATHE!

Cal's arm suddenly flopped. Jake jerked back. Cal's chest rose. Stilled. Jake waited. Cal's chest rose again. Stunned, Jake stared, not grasping the significance, still steeped in the urge to breathe for his brother.

He leaned close, whispered, "Cal?"