"All right, Gus. Stay with me. We're going to the Sloan place. They have a phone."

His name became a lifeline she threw out over and over. It took nearly an hour of agonizing labor to cover the first mile.

The Sloan property sat behind a sturdy cattle gate. It was a picture of rural wealth: a neat house, straight fencing, and a freshly painted barn. Merrick Sloan stepped out onto his porch when he saw them approaching—a bloodstained, trembling sixteen-year-old girl dragging a barely conscious biker up his driveway.

Merrick didn't come down the steps.

"Mr. Sloan," Nadine gasped, her arms shaking violently as Gus sagged against her frame. "Please call an ambulance. He's hurt bad. I stopped the bleeding, but he needs help."

She tried to move another step. "Please. Your phone."

Merrick Sloan’s eyes darted to Gus's leather vest, taking in the death's-head and the bottom rocker. His expression immediately hardened into a wall of stone. "I'm not getting involved in that."

Nadine stared at him, blinking sweat and dirt from her eyes. "What?"

"Look at him," Sloan pointed a rigid finger. "That's an outlaw biker. I'm not having that trouble brought onto my property."

"He's dying!"

"Then maybe he shouldn't have been riding that road. You take him somewhere else."

Nadine stood paralyzed, unable to process the absolute failure of basic humanity unfolding in front of her. Sloan finally came down two steps—not to help, but to advance on her.

"Off my property. I said move."

When Nadine stood her ground, Sloan reached out, grabbed her small shoulder, and shoved hard.

Nadine lost her footing in the gravel. Gus’s massive weight came down on top of her. They hit the ground hard, and the violent impact shifted the makeshift tourniquet. Fresh, bright blood began to soak through her flannel shirt again.

"Off my land," Sloan spat from above them. "I won't say it twice."

Something snapped inside Nadine Frost. Maybe it was pure exhaustion. Maybe it was an orphaned girl's rage. Or maybe there comes a point where a person has lost so much that fear can no longer find anything left to threaten.