Cory's Point of View from Trouble with Treasure

by Ella

Mitch Carter’s face was set in a determined expression when he handed Andi Carter the rifle.

Fourteen-year-old Cory Blake looked at it longingly. I wish he had handed it to me.

            “Besides, the rifle’s for you,” Mitch was saying. “You’re my backup,”

            Cory watched as Andi’s face went white. His heart started beating fast. This was not what he had expected. The cabin they were supposed to be staying in was occupied. Mitch was going to check it out. He had said it was probably a poor family of squatters. But, now? He was handing out guns!

Cory knew why. Mitch needed to be prepared. A family of squatters was the most likely, but. . . Cory shivered. The word “bandit” was echoing over and over in his mind. What if bandits are in the cabin?

            “Your backup?” Andi was saying. “You backup for what?”

            Cory looked expectantly at Mitch, who let out a breath. “Some mighty peculiar folks live in these hills. Most don’t take kindly to strangers. If the people who’ve taken over that shack are the shoot-first-ask-questions-later type, I don’t want them to get past me and come looking for you and your friends. Don’t be afraid to use it.”

            Cory wanted very much to say something. Instead, he watched Andi set the rifle butt on the ground and say, “I’m not afraid. It’s. . .well. . .you know how I shoot.”

Cory gulped back laughter. Yes, he had seen Andi shoot. When she aimed at a brand-new target, by the end of the shooting round, the target was still brand-new, unless she hit the far-side or had someone else shooting with her. He muffled chuckles. Maybe he could offer to be the backup.

He opened his mouth, but was interrupted by Andi offering him the large gun. Cory gaped.

“You be the backup man,” Andi said.

Cory looked at Mitch before taking the rifle from Andi. When Mitch nodded, he said, “I shoot pretty good. When I go on the jack rabbit hunt each year, I bag dozens and dozens of the pesky critters.”

He was careful of what he said and made sure his face was under control. The air was tense and serious, but he was beaming inside. He was the backup man! Then he sobered. Mitch could get hurt. He had to be brave and forget his foolish pride.

“I don’t expect to find any jack rabbits around here,” Mitch said, “but anyone who sees you holding a rifle at gut-level with probably back off.”

Cory grinned and nodded. He grasped the rifle tighter. No fooling, mister. He told himself. You’re the protector now.

Pretty soon, Mitch was gone, walking towards the cabin - and towards trouble.

***

It was when Cory heard the “What d’ya want?” that made him shiver. That was no squatters voice.

Andi, however, did more than shiver. She took a step up the trail.

Cory gasped inside. What was she doing? His reckless friend was more sensible then that! As he slid off the rock to follow her, he chided himself. Correction, she is not reckless. He curled his fingers around her arm. “Where are you going?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I want to get closer,” was the response. “How will we know if something's gone wrong if we can’t see what’s happening?” 

Cory’s mind was whirling. What is she thinking?

Jenny Grant, who was also on the trip, joined them. “You’re crazy, Andi. We should stay put.”

Cory agreed. But he kept silent. It wasn’t until Andi grasped the rifle did he react. He shook his head and yanked the firearm back.

“Mitch’ll have my hide if I let you go off alone and do such a fool thing.” The he relented. Her reply had been reasonable. And Cory did like Mitch. Maybe they could do something to help, even if it meant not staying where they should.

Torn, Cory blurted, “I. . .I’m coming with you.” He hoisted the rifle in front of him and followed Andi. “Stay with the horses, Jenny.” Hoping he wouldn’t regret his decision, he crossed his fingers.

They marched down the trail. Cory and Andi hid behind wood and brush.

“If Mitch finds out about this, our lives won’t be worth a plugged nickel,” Cory hissed his Andi’s ear. “We see what’s going on and then we get out of here.”

Andi ignored him.

Cory muttered a growl under his breath. Andi wasn’t reckless, but she was stubborn.

***

The instant Cory saw the man on the ledge—to when he jabbed Andi—he knew that coming down to the shack had been a good idea after all. . .maybe. Banishing those thoughts, Cory looked at Andi. She looked like she was going to scream.

            Clapping a hand over her mouth, he hissed, “Don’t you dare holler.” Then he let go, brought up the rifle, and crack! The bullet hit the ledge, sending the man falling. Then he ducked, dragging Andi with him.

            The shots that rang out made Cory wince every time. He prayed silently. Please, Lord, protect Andi, me, and Mitch!

            Soon, they headed back to the rock.

***

Cory was elected to go out and see if everything was alright after the shooting was over. So he crept down to the shack and crept around it.

            “Yikes!” Cory’s heart beat fast. Right in front of him was the large hulk of the man from the shack. Grimacing, Cory silently praised Mitch. Maybe he is okay.

            But what he found next was heart-stopping.

            It was Mitch, crumbled by the corral. His face was bleeding and his leg was a mass of blood. Cory shook him, and Mitch groaned.

            The crunch of footsteps told Cory that Andi had come down, too. So he called, “Andi! Get over here! Quick!”

            Andi scurried over. Her face went pale. She looked ready to cry.

            “He’s alive, Andi,” Cory said. “Don’t worry. I shook him.” Please, Lord. Help us get through this!