Buford squealed as Trader stepped up and dragged him away by the upper arm, the pincering fingers probing beneath the cloak and nearly pulling the biceps muscle away from the bone.
Ryan ignored them.
Dean was conscious, his head strained back, the sinews in his throat corded with the effort of trying to look at his father. “I’m triple sorry, Dad, about”
“Shut up. Can you move?”
“No. Branch is across my stomach and the tops of my legs and feet.”
Krysty spoke to the trapped boy, keeping her voice calm and reassuring. “Soon get you out, Dean. Can you move your arms and fingers, all right?”
“Yeah.” The boy’s voice was fragile and feathery, trembling like the beating of a bird’s heart. “I can feel my toes wriggle, as well.”
Ryan nodded. “Good. Means you got no bad injuries. We’ll have you out, Dean. Don’t go away.”
Something like a laugh. “Try not to, Dad.”
Ryan led Krysty and the Armorer a little farther away, dropping his voice to whisper urgently to them both. “What do you reckon?”
J.B. answered. “If we got time, we can send a sec man to fetch some good ropes from their ville. Not far. And pulleys. We can jury-rig a tackle and heave that branch off him.” He paused. “If we got the time.”
“Dad?”
“Hang on.”
“No, Dad, listen. I think the branch is getting heavier on top of me. Like it’s moving, real slow. I can feel it.”
Ryan gestured for the others to keep well off. Going alone, he picked his way through the scattered detritus from the broken branches, taking the ultimate care not to slip and somehow disturb the delicate balance of the lethal trap that was crushing his helpless son.
“Can you see anything, Dad?” Anxiety nearly swamped his brave efforts at control.
“Yeah. Yeah, I can see what’s happening. The sharp, broken end of the branch that’s got you is sinking into the soft, muddy ground. That’s gradually increasing the weight on you.”
“Will it stop?”
Ryan hesitated. From where he stood, it was possible to see that the other end of the spruce branch was very slowly slipping from the trunk. Once it lost that residue of purchase, it would then fall and wipe Dean away.
“Sure it’ll stop.”
There was no way of getting anything else under it to check the inexorable progress downward. The other branches were brittle and dry and would snap. The trees all around had strong healthy branches, but to cut through one or two of the necessary breadth would take far too long without a power saw.
And, because of the configuration of the ground and the way the tree had fallen, there wasn’t room for several people to get in and lift it. There was barely space at the point of balance of the shifting branch for even a single person.
“I’ll take the weight, lover, and you have everyone else ready to try to hold some of the strain, if necessary. And get Dean out the moment I lift it up. Have to be quick.”
“Use the Gaia power?”
“Yes.” Krysty’s face was calm, as though she were already starting to focus some of those hidden, mysterious strengths, the secret skills taught to her by her mother, Sonja, linked to the Earth Mother herself, Gaia.
“You know what it does to you. It comes close to chilling you when you use it, Krysty.”
“I know.”
“Dad, getting heavy!” Dean’s face was turning red as his chest was compressed and his breathing became more and more difficult. “Be quick.”
Ryan hugged Krysty, kissing her on the lips. “You can do it?”
“I can try.”
Ryan had to draw his SIG-Sauer to force Buford away with his men, explaining in a few words to the others what was going to happen.
Trader had opened his mouth to protest at the absurdity of it, but then shut it again when he saw the cold death in Ryan’s eye, contenting himself with the barely audible whisper of “Fucking triple impossible. In-fucking-possible!”
Krysty had thrown off her dark blue jacket and stood by the tree in her white shirt and blue pants.
Dean gasped for air, sucking in rapid, shallow breaths, his eyes closed.