by Angela White
She swung to Luke, cringing in terror. “Eth-Eth-Ethan!”
It came out as a piercing shriek that had Luke moving into the cave with determined steps. This is why the sick bastard isn’t dead yet, he thought grimly. She needs to watch it happen.
Luke grabbed the still man by the arm, blinded by his fury, and he grunted in sharp pain as Ethan’s knife blade sank into his shoulder.
Luke ducked, avoiding a second swing meant to render him unconscious, and threw his own knife.
“Ugg!”
It stuck in Ethan’s gut and Luke resisted the urge to finish him off. He dragged the moaning man out to where Jenna had Kendle mostly cornered against the wall and was trying to calm her down.
At the sight of Ethan, Kendle began to scream again.
Luke swung, knocking the unbound killer to the dirt at her feet, causing her shrieks to be cut-off by surprise.
Luke used a vicious boot to the ribs to shove the man away from her, deftly retrieving his knife with a fast jerk that sent Ethan’s mouth open in agony.
Kendle watched without blinking as Luke gave Ethan what she hadn’t been able to. Blood flew from the playboy’s face, spraying the rock wall and she stared at it. That was Ethan’s blood. Luke was killing Ethan.
Jenna wisely moved when Kendle stood up, wobbling weakly on bloody legs. “Stop!”
Luke made sure Ethan was no danger. He was prepared to take him into the jungle and finish it out of her sight and he was surprised again when she held her hand out.
Luke gave her the bloody knife without speaking, worried when she immediately delivered a nasty swipe down Ethan’s arm that jerked him from the blackness to the sound of his own screams.
Kendle grinned evilly, justice flooding her devastated heart. “More!”
“Whatever it takes, Darlin’.”
She was flashing forward before he finished speaking, letting the blade dig and then twist into the side of Ethan’s nose. Blood splashed down his chest as he knocked himself to the ground to get away.
Kendle followed him forward, blade flashing relentlessly while Luke held the screaming man in place.
Scared by their behavior, Jenna slowly retreated, leaving the supplies. If they wanted her later, she would come, but not without a weapon of her own. These Americans are crazy!
Kendle kept going even after she had accidentally sliced too deep into Ethan’s neck and gave him release. Her arms and naked body were covered in his blood and it was only as Luke witnessed those glowing green eyes fade to death that he considered the infection. Kendle had been exposed, presumably violated. She would catch the rage illness and he would have to lock her up to keep her from doing this to someone who didn’t deserve it.
As if she caught the thought, Kendle stepped aside and threw up.
She wobbled violently, knife falling from her gory hand as she slid to her knees. She stared up at him with a shocked survivor’s expression. “I’d like to go home now, please.”
Luke didn’t move fast enough to startle her, but he didn’t hesitate either, coming to her side with a hurt-filled smile. He had no doubt of which home she spoke. “As soon as you say you can, I’ll find us a way.”
Her lashes fluttered, and Luke caught her as she fell over. He laid her down long enough to finish bandaging her wounds and get the blanket from his bedroll. He cut a hole in it for her and after sliding it over her, gathered her gently into his arms and headed for the well-used dirt bike that was still parked nearby. It would be slow going with her in his arms, and he had no idea how to help her. He also wasn’t sure if the doctor in town would treat her or shoot them both on sight, but he flew toward town as fast he could. There was no other choice.
6
“Will she live?”
Kendle swam reluctantly toward the grayness, unable to remember what was there and scared to try. The voice below the stone was silent, but she felt him lurking, waiting for her to discover the latest horror and come rushing in. She didn’t feel anything that hadn’t been there already as she pushed through the gray and she was extremely careful to not let on that she’d woken.
“Maybe. Her wounds are healing at an incredible rate and there’s no sign of the infection.”
“And your theory on that?”
“I’ll share later, if she lives.”
Kendle jerked at a sudden bright light and felt someone come to her side.
“Kendle?”
Sure the sound of Luke’s voice was a trick, she squeezed her lids shut. “I’m sorry, Ethan. Please, I’m sorry!”
Luke growled his rage, spinning from the room and the doctor took his place.
“He’s dead. You’re in town. That was Luke.”
Given the information she needed most, Kendle slipped into the darkness.
The next time she woke, it was to find a man in the chair by her side. She struggled to control her breathing and couldn’t stop from begging again when he stood up.
“I’ll try harder, please don’t!”
“Son of a bitch!”
The doctor hurried to comfort her as Luke left the small room again. “Ethan’s dead.”
Kendle was trying to remember what had happened. She’d already placed the voice of the doctor, but that growl! That angry sound couldn’t have been Luke.
“You sure?”
Harriet used a rough hand to check Kendle’s skin for a fever. “You had too much of his blood on you for him to be anything else.”
Kendle flinched, more from the touch than the words, and flashes of Ethan’s torture hit her hard. She shuddered, gagging.
The woman had the basin in hand, and slid into position with a quickness born of repetition. “Try to stop yourself from thinking about it if you can and I’ll give you something to calm those guts.”
Kendle shakily took the towel as the woman went to dispose of the mess. She felt so… Deformed, Kendle supplied forcefully, making herself glance down at what would now be her body.
The sight of it stunned her.
There were teeth marks on nearly every inch of her skin and she was suddenly grateful for the IV in her arm that she was sure contained a painkiller. She was stitched in half a dozen places on her arms and hands; the tips of two fingers covered in thick bandages that she knew hid missing fingertips.
“He liked to bite,” she whispered, tears falling onto the numerous scrapes and puncture marks. She would never be the same.
“Luke wants to come in.”
“No!” Kendle shouted. “Go away!”
Kendle’s ugly shout struck Luke through the chest even though he’d been warned to expect it, and the doctor’s chubby face was sympathetic as she left the room.
“Go sit with her now. Don’t push, but don’t let her push you, either.”
Luke asked himself if he was strong enough to help her through this recovery, the likes of which her first trauma couldn’t even compare to, and found the answer to be easy. He entered the room and shut the door with a firm hand.
Kendle watched him settle into the hard rocker next to the softly flickering fire, fighting the need to cover herself.
Luke stared, his guilt sparking the tension. “We have to talk.”
“No, we don’t. It’s over.”
Luke steeled himself for what had to come next. “I want you to come back to the cabin, let me help you like before.”
Kendle had never been so hurt and she couldn’t agree, wouldn’t ever trust again. “No.”
“Okay. I’ll stay here until she throws me out, but I’m not leaving.”
Kendle felt the tears roll down her cheeks and wiped them away angrily. “You should go.”
“I love you, Kendle. Nothing’s changed for me.”
It was the wrong thing to say.
”Well, everything’s changed for me!” she shouted hoarsely, tears falling harder. “I’m a broken toy now. Who the hell would play with something that belonged to a dog?”
“I would.”
Kendle snarled in g
rief and hurt, and Luke had to go to her, unable to stand her agony. “How can I help you?”
She trembled, so full of bitterness she couldn’t stop lashing out. “Go away!”
He ignored the doctor’s warning about pushing her, sitting down on the bed. Even done slowly, she cringed against the wall in a pathetic attempt at escape.
Luke slowly slid to the top of the bed and leaned against the wall, not touching her, but making it so she’d have to crawl over him to get away. He remembered his own horrors and how hard he’d fought to be left to his despair. Weak or not, he wouldn’t let her sink any deeper into her own mental hell without trying to show her a little light.
“The cabin, Kendle, our garden. It’s waiting, too.”
Kendle cried harder and Luke fought the urge to give her the space she was begging for. He held out a hand. “Please, I still need you!”
Flashes of Ethan’s death came again, but this time they were fighting for space with the memories of the life she had been sharing with Luke. Fishing holes. Hole-ups. Dark tunnels and nightmarish demons. Love and laughter, life at its best. Blood and pain, hell at its worst.
Luke’s grin, the one reserved only for her, broke through her trance and she gazed at him with more life than he’d glimpsed so far.
“He’s dead. We killed him.”
Luke’s voice turned into that harsh growl she hadn’t been able to place. “Deserved worse than he got!”
Kendle concentrated on recapturing the strength of their love. When she had it securely in her thoughts, she forced herself to keep going. “The others?”
“Already gone. The Mayor got wise to Higgins and sent a flunkey to get the girls out early. We missed the boat by enough time to see it fading into the sunset with the Mayor onboard.”
Again, the rage in his voice triggered her reaction and Kendle shivered. It wasn’t the Luke she knew and it didn’t match that memory.
“Kendle, it’s gonna be okay. Whatever it takes, I’ll be here for you.”
She pulled up the image again, letting it grow to vivid clarity. Deep inside, one desperate need was flaring out, becoming undeniable.
I am Kendle Roberts.
He is Luke Johnson.
We loved each other…
“Go slow, okay?”
Luke smiled in relief, showing a small part of what she needed and Kendle felt the final layer of her shock crack as that wave of need crested in her shattered heart. Ethan was dead and she wasn’t.
Her dreams came to mind, the evil voice floating to the top of her stunned brain.
Did you know they think you can’t die?
She shuddered at the knowledge that she could be brought to the brink enough times to wish it weren’t so. Ethan had invaded every part of her. She would never be the same.
But maybe I can go on, she thought, concentrating on Luke’s gentle face and the powerful demands of her heart. Maybe I can stop burning after a while and smolder until the pain recedes. If I can get that far, this time I won’t stop with recovering. I won’t rest until I get home!
Chapter Twenty
Third Time’s a Charm
May 7th
Cedar Bluff State Park
1
Angela’s knuckles were white from her grip on the ambulance dashboard, but she didn’t ask Marc to slow down on the slick, curvy road. They might be too late already.
“Wouldn’t he have sent for John if it was serious?” Marc asked quietly, aware of how worried she was. The message had come in as they sat down to morning mess together and she’d been a bundle of live nerves since.
Angela didn’t respond. Marc was trying to calm her, but that wouldn’t happen until she knew Adrian was okay, and she found herself wishing for Kyle and her team. They were in the medical tent, being tested for a mysterious illness that had left them incapacitated. John was trying to figure it out while Kevin and the rookies kept order.
Neil’s team had been with the clearing crew this morning, supposed to be the relief for Kyle’s team that had never made it out of camp last night for their a.m. sentry duty over the tow trucks. Seth’s mental call had come while she was busy deflecting people from the QZ. He’d told her to bring rope, water, duct tape, and a lot of other things, but the one that put fear into her heart was this ambulance. My team wasn’t the only target, she thought. Another attempt had been made on Adrian’s life. Had it been successful?
The ambulance slid through a narrow curve, and then found purchase on the muddy, crumbling pavement. Angela tightened her seatbelt. She wanted to search, just a quick glance to settle her heart, but resisted the impulse. If it was as bad as it felt, she might need every bit of strength that she had.
“There they are,” Marc said, pointing.
A small group of tow trucks and tense men came into view through the drizzle. The guards waved him through and Marc flicked the headlights in response.
Angela was out first, black bag clutched tightly under her rain slicker. Marc joined the group of men for an update, but Angela hurried by them, searching for Adrian.
Neil fell in step to lead the way and she shivered at the feel of his fear. “Kyle and his team were all found in camp, unconscious.”
Neil made a motion to let the others know, but his expression held little relief.
“It’s Adrian?” she asked.
“The truck went over the edge, along with a car we were moving,” Neil told her through his concern. “We’re pretty sure we can pull them up now that we’ve got more rope, but not until we push the car off of them.”
“Why didn’t you…” Angela froze on the embankment, stunned.
The drop was easily thirty feet and she could barely see the tow truck. Upside down, it was mostly hidden by a cracked and muddy wagon that was still attached by a thick chain. The partially crushed cab of the tow truck was near the edge of another gulch and Angela couldn’t determine how far down that one went. Being wedged against the stump of a thick tree was the only thing stopping the vehicles from going over.
“Shit,” she swore. The tree was leaning out, jagged cracks branching out from the point of impact. How long would that hold?
“We’ll have to yank them out fast,” Marc calculated as he joined them at the edge.
“I need to get down there.”
Neil thought to respond, but waited. Adrian had made it clear that either she or Marc would take charge.
“Not until we get them anchored,” Marc denied. “That tree could go anytime. Even shifting might trigger the slide.”
Angela accepted Marc’s decision. She didn’t want to be in charge. She wanted Adrian.
“Have you heard anything from him?” she asked Neil.
“Right after. Nothing for half an hour or so. He said every time we yelled, the vehicle moved. I figure he heard the ambulance and knows you’re here.” Neil was glad to be able to say that and even more relieved that she hadn’t tried to fight for control. Adrian was in danger. There wasn’t time for it.
Marc joined the waiting group, motioning for Neil to be Angela’s shadow, and he waved the other men over, cringing inwardly at the crudeness of his two-minute plan. So many things could go wrong.
“The line goes behind the motor, the side that’s exposed, and then around the tow attachment. We’ll anchor it to those two trees up there,” he instructed, pointing. “If they can come through the rear window, we’ll leave it all. If not, we’ll unhook the wagon and push it off. Even if the ground goes by ten feet, the truck will stay. Dangling probably, but it’ll be there.”
There were doubts all the way around, but everyone held them inside. To voice their fears might cause something bad to happen.
They got to work immediately, and five minutes later, Angela and the rest of them held their breath as two slowly moving men neared the truck.
Marc watched them begin attaching the ropes, wishing it were him and Kenn doing this hands-on labor, and then grimaced at the thought.
The tree didn’t move as Al
ex and Daniel, the two lightest men here, wrapped the rope around it. Marc felt a little better about his next order.
“Get her set.” He looked at Angie, lips tightening. “Don’t yell or do anything to cause vibrations. You’ll be anchored, but your line could be snagged if the hill goes, so don’t fight if we yank on you. We can see things from here that you won’t be able to. You’ll have a second rope for messages. No yelling.”
“You already told me that,” she muttered, being still as Doug and Neil prepared her harness and lines. “Can you lower blankets and water or should I take them now?”
“Neither. Get them stable enough to roll and you can treat them in the ambulance.”
Angela lifted her arms to allow the two worried males to secure her anchor and felt the tension grow when Neil gave the okay.
Two minutes later, she was starting her descent.
The ground was slick and treacherous. Twice, she lost her footing and slid, caught herself with trembling muscles. Mud gushed under her boots and up her legs as she sank, and she tried to move faster so it didn’t have time to suck her under.
The men above muttered worriedly as she sped up, understanding if the hillside collapsed, it was likely that she would be caught and smashed by the sliding vehicles.
Everyone was relieved when she finally reached the cab of the truck and knelt down.
“Try not to touch anything.”
That drowsy voice cautioning her sent waves of relief into Angela’s heart and she carefully pulled on the door handle.
“It’s anchored now,” she answered, slowly inching the dented door open. Sliding easily despite the mud, she pushed it open and peered inside.
“Welcome,” Adrian greeted her calmly, trying to smile as blood dripped from his nose onto his brow. Pale blue eyes stared at her from the cuts, blood, and scrapes.
Both men were still in their seat belts, faces dark from being upside down so long. She had assumed it was Kenn with him when they’d arrived and didn’t spot the Marine, but Angela wasn’t sure why Marc thought it would upset her. As long as he wasn’t dead…
