Salem Snippets: A Collection of Silver Society Shorts

WHEN SHOOTER MET TAMMY

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This one-shot focuses on Shooter and Tammy. It gives some insight into Shooter's teen years that has not previously appeared in the series. I will warn you, his childhood was difficult, so some of this may be hard to read. (Trigger warning for child abuse.)

I love Shooter and know he's a very popular character, so I hope my readers enjoy this story!

WHEN SHOOTER MET TAMMY

It hurt to breathe. Shooter's mother had beaten him until he'd started misfiring. When he accidentally zapped her, it only made her angrier. The abuse continued until Shooter couldn't take anymore.

"Stop," he whimpered. "Please stop."

His mother slammed him against the wall. Shooter let out a scream of pain as his back connected to the unyielding mass. He crumpled to the ground and tried to shield his head as his mother came at him again.

"Harriet, stop!" His uncle cried. "You'll kill the kid!"

"He deserves it!" His mother replied.

"I'm not bailing you out of jail if you get arrested for murder, Sis. Back away from Oscar."

"This isn't any of your business, Quinn!"

"He's my nephew, and he's shooting off sparks."

"He does it on purpose!"

"He can't control it, Harriet. Come on, calm down. He's just a kid."

"He's fourteen! He's not a baby."

Shooter knew better than to move. If his uncle could talk his mom down, he'd be saved, at least for a little while. He didn't think he could survive much more that night.

As Quinn lured Harriet into the kitchen with the promise of more alcohol, Shooter tried to pull himself together. He knew he had to get out of the house, but he could barely walk.

He dragged himself to the front door, doing his best not to get blood on the carpet because that would only set his mother off all over again.

It wasn't always like this, he thought. Maybe things will go back to the way they were before one day.

He knew that wasn't likely. His mother had started drinking heavily after his father died in a car accident six years earlier. At eight years old, Shooter had become the man of the house.

He continued dragging himself forward until he found his way to the edge of the water. He collapsed and wondered if he was just going to bleed to death before he could find help.

No, he decided. I won't give up.

When he'd been a bit younger, he would have gone to the Eckerd house. Erin Eckerd had been his mentor, friend, and honorary big sister. She had been a strong healer, and she'd taken care of him more than once, but Erin was dead. He was alone.

Erin, I need you, he thought weakly. I'm scared.

He blacked out with his hand in the water and his head dangerously close to it.

When Shooter woke up, he was in the Salem Willows. He had no idea how he'd gotten across the water to the park. A girl sat beside him whispering familiar words.

"Erin..." He mumbled in confusion. He figured he must be concussed.

"I heard you," she said soothingly. Shooter realized the body beside him was not Erin's, but it was definitely her energy. "It's okay, Shooter. I'm here. You're going to be alright."