No matter how often she’d tried to talk to them, they’d turned a deaf ear on her. None of them replied, or gave any indication that they spoke English, much less understood her. They communicated mostly through hand gestures, and when they spoke, it had been in some foreign language that – as much as she hated to admit it – sounded a lot like a dialect of Algonquian, a Native American language. She’d heard it spoken, but she certainly didn’t know more than a word or two without having to look at a reference book. A Native American linguistics course was high on her list of classes she’d wanted to take.
The men's clothing and weapons, and even their appearance looked as authentic as anything she'd ever seen. As the day had crawled on excruciatingly slow while she and Jeffrey were forced to go with them, her usually logical mind had turned to irrational thoughts that this was real and these men weren’t pretending. Several of them had stared at her as if they’d never seen anyone like her before. They had touched her hair, her clothes, and taken her glasses, which she’d snatched away from them again.
When her foot had gotten stuck in the dirt for the hundredth time, one of the men had removed her shoes and tossed them away after scrutinizing the one that didn't have a broken heel. He'd slashed it through the air as if testing it to see if it could be used like a knife or other weapon, but had apparently concluded that it was useless to him.
Jeffrey’s pleas and mutterings throughout the day had fallen on deaf ears, and he’d even gotten on her nerves after a while. After failing to draw these guys into some sort of communication, she’d gone along silently, as best as she could. Annoying them with constant begging wasn’t going to win her or Jeffrey any favors, and she’d told him as much. By the time they’d come to where their kidnappers set up camp, Jeffrey had finally shut up.
Riley tried to produce saliva and swallow. All it did was make her parched throat hurt more. Her stomach grumbled, but that was the least of her worries.
The campfire a short distance away cast eerie shadows on the men sitting around it. They spoke in low tones and seemed completely oblivious to what was about to happen to her.
They’re probably waiting to take their turn.
Another wave of panic raced through her, and taking a breath became painful. She’d watched this new guy walk into the camp, and for a hopeful second, she’d thought he’d come to talk some sense into these other guys. He’d almost looked as if he’d been bartering, sitting around the fire with the others. Then again, visibility hadn’t been all that great. When he’d come and pulled her roughly to her feet, then dragged her further away into the darkness, her hopes had died.
Riley let out a loud screech when the guy’s large hands clamped around her upper arms, and his warm breath tickled her ear.
“Riley?” Jeffrey’s raspy and fearful voice called from somewhere further away. Riley darted a frantic glance toward the sound. He was only visible because of his lab coat, but just slightly. “What’s going on, Riley? What’s he doing to you?”
The strong odor of sweat and dirt coming from the guy who grabbed her reached her nose when she finally did manage to suck in some air.
“Please, don’t do this,” she whimpered.
She forced more air into her lungs. Her heart pounded so hard, it was about to break through her chest. “You and your friends won’t get away with this.” Her voice croaked from lack of moisture in her throat.
The man drew in a deep breath next to her ear. His hair brushed against her cheek, and Riley shrank away. Jeffrey continued to call out to her. Another wave of dread raced through her, making her pulse pound against her temples.
“Where is it?”
Riley tensed. The words were spoken so low against her ear, they sounded more like a growl. Firm hands gripped her arms tighter.
“You speak English,” she gasped in relief. “Who are you people? What do you want?”
Somewhere in the back of her mind, she smacked herself for the stupid question. Wasn’t it obvious what he wanted?
“If you are here, you must have it,” he growled again. Although he clearly spoke English, it sounded as if it wasn’t his preferred language, and he was searching for the right words.
Riley shook her head. If she could keep him talking, maybe he’d see reason and wouldn’t force himself on her.
“Have what?” she asked, her voice higher than normal.
“The vessel,” he grumbled, an almost urgent plea to his deep tone. His fingers dug into her skin through the fabric of her clothes.
“Vessel?” she echoed. “What vessel?” Riley moved to pull her arms from his grip, but the strap tying her hands together prevented her from moving them fully. Even so, the strength in his fingers alone would crush her if he wanted to.
“Were you sent by the Sky People?” His voice grew more adamant.
“I have no clue what you’re talking about,” Riley hissed. Anger surged in her, momentarily overriding her fear. Her eyes widened, even though it was impossible to see anything in the darkness. She leaned her face away from the close proximity of this lunatic. It took another second for his question to fully sink in.
Sky People? Seriously?
Riley nearly laughed. “Okay, whose idea of a joke is this, because it’s not funny anymore. You’re all taking your role-playing a little too far.”
Had someone set up an elaborate prank to play on her? She’d often been called too serious about her work, and that she needed to get out more and loosen up. When this guy mentioned sky people, it finally all made sense.
The ancient Sheepeater Indians believed in a spirit hierarchy of sky, earth, and water people. She'd just talked about it with a few of her classmates, not more than a week ago. Someone had obviously thought to use that and play a joke on her, a joke that had gotten horribly out of hand. She tried again to pull away from this guy's crushing grip. Her arms were starting to tingle from the cutoff flow of blood.
“No, the Sky People didn’t send me,” she said, sweetly. Sarcastically. Her anger and annoyance took over. “Jeffrey and I came by ourselves.” An irrational need to throw her hands in the air hit her.
“Then where is the vessel?” the guy asked, his growl deepening.
“I don’t know anything about a vessel,” Riley retorted, expelling air through her mouth. “Maybe if you can be a bit more specific. What does it look like? And why is it so important to you?”
The guy shifted in front of her. Thankfully, he eased his grip on her, but his mounting frustration was evident in his words. “The vessel that holds the power of the Sky People was created in the shape of a pasuku . . . snake. It gives them, or anyone else who understands its power, the ability to travel through time.”
Riley squeezed her eyes shut. The image of that artifact she’d taken out of the box at the lab came to mind . . . the one she’d thought looked like a snakehead. She laughed.
“Travel through time? You’re kidding, right? This is getting better by the second. Did that ranger, Dan Osborne, set this up?” When she got back to the lab, he’d be her first phone call. The next one would be to his supervisor.
The guy’s grip on her tightened again, and he shook her roughly. Riley bit her lower lip to keep from crying out. “You are here from the future. You’ve touched the lifeblood inside the vessel . . . the red eyes.”
It was too dark to see him, but by the sound of his voice, a snarling face and bared teeth came to mind.
“You’re on drugs,” she gasped. “You need to let me and Jeffrey go, and I might consider not filing assault charges.”
A rough voice called from out of the darkness. Several other men laughed. The guy in front of Riley tensed, and he muttered words under his breath she didn’t understand.
His body shifted again, and he pushed her fully to the ground. Not a second later, he was on top of her, pinning her to the hairy animal fur underneath her.
“Get off me.” Riley squirmed beneath him, panic giving her strength. She brought her leg up in an effort to kick
her knee into his groin, but he was quicker. A heavy thigh draped over her leg, immobilizing her beneath him even more. With her hands tied, she had no way to fight him off. All she could do was push her palms against his chest, but she might as well be trying to move a mountain of granite.
“Scream,” he commanded against her ear.
“What?”
Cold fear raced through her. When his weight crushed her into the ground, the sensation of drowning engulfed her, making breathing impossible.
“Scream, and continue to fight,” he said in his low voice.
“You’re a sick son of a bitch, you know that?” Riley screeched, gasping for air.
Tears of frustration raced down her face. He lifted his weight slightly, and she gulped in several quick breaths. She almost called for Jeffrey, but he was tied up. Even so, he’d be completely useless to her in this situation. Jeffrey wasn’t the knight in shining armor type to fend off a beast like this guy. He wouldn’t stand a chance. He’d already stopped calling out to her.
A warm hand slid up her thigh, groping and feeling, and she tensed. He moved higher. His hands seemed to be all over her, pulling her blouse out from the waistband of her skirt, feeling along her back, down her arms, her stomach.
He murmured more words that sounded like gibberish against her ear while he continued to explore her with his hands. When his palm grazed the top of her bra, Riley bucked beneath him in a futile effort to get him to stop. She called him every foul word that came to mind and made up a few of her own.
“Where’s the vessel?” he demanded again.
“I don’t have your damn vessel,” she shouted.
He froze. His hand pulled out from under her shirt, and his body moved to the side, and off of her. Riley gulped for air. She shook with fear and disbelief. Why had he stopped?
A cool breeze drifted over her legs. She pushed her skirt, which had bunched up around her waist, down as far as it would go, and rolled onto her side. She curled up into a fetal position and listened. The guy had stood. He called out, his angry voice sending a chill down her spine. She struggled to sit up, and strained her eyes. The men at the fire shouted excitedly now, too, and came toward her, their weapons in their hands.
They didn’t come directly at her, but scurried all around. Twigs snapped in the undergrowth of the forest. What was going on now?
“Jeffrey, are you all right?” Riley called into the darkness.
She widened her eyes, straining to see. Jeffrey’s white coat wasn’t visible where it had been a few minutes ago.
“Jeffrey?”
No answer.
“Jeffrey, where are you?” Renewed panic set in. What had happened to him? Had those lunatics done something? Hurt him? “Jeffrey!”
A firm hand grabbed her by the arm, and lifted her to her feet. She’d felt that grip enough times now to know it wasn’t one of the eight men who’d kidnapped her and Jeffrey. No doubt she’d be bruised in the morning. At least it would be evidence when she filed assault charges, if she lived through this night.
“What have they done to Jeffrey?” she demanded.
The man’s grip eased, but he continued to hold her as if he was afraid she’d try to run away. Riley scoffed. No chance of that happening. She couldn’t see a thing in the dark, and her feet throbbed.
“Your boyfriend is gone,” came the low voice.
A jolt of adrenaline and ice-cold fear surged through her. “Gone? What do you mean, ‘he’s gone’?”
“Does he have the vessel?” the man asked in a threatening tone. “It wasn’t on you.”
Riley shook her head. Her skin tingled from where his hands had been all over her a few minutes ago. He hadn’t been groping her. He’d been looking for some object? What was this guy’s fixation with that artifact?
Jeffrey had taken that snakehead from her just before all this craziness started, and dropped it in his coat pocket. Riley stared into the darkness.
“If it’s what I think you mean, then, yes, Jeffrey has it.”
“The Blackfoot won’t find him,” the man scoffed. He dropped his hold on her arm.
“Well I hope he finds a phone and calls for help,” Riley stuttered. She couldn’t keep the disappointment out of her voice; disappointment and anger that Jeffrey had simply left her. It was quickly replaced by more fear. Had Jeffrey really snuck off in the dark? He had to know what these men were going to do to her. Maybe he’d get away, and could call the authorities.
“There is no phone here,” the man standing next to her said with a sneer. “He left you, and returned to the future.”
Chapter Five
Cam cursed repeatedly. He squeezed his hands into tight fists at his sides, every muscle in his back taut with anger. He’d been so close. The vessel that had eluded Pikowan all these years had almost been in his hands. The moment the woman told him that she didn’t have it he’d realized that he’d bartered for the wrong prisoner.
He’d alerted the Bakianee to the coward’s disappearance the instant he’d seen that the man had vanished. Even so, suspicion might fall on him that he had something to do with the white man’s escape. The warriors would never find him. When they returned from their search, they’d take their anger for losing their captive out on the woman, even though she rightfully belonged to Cam now. It was best to leave before they returned. He couldn’t fight off eight warriors in the dark, and still keep the woman safe.
Cam turned to her. She stood next to him, her arm brushing up against his. Her body quivered. He leaned forward, reached for her, and slung her over his shoulder. She expelled a surprised breath of air, then struggled against his hold. Cam gripped her tightly by the legs.
“Put me down, you animal,” she screeched, her tied fists pounding against his back.
Cam grabbed for the buffalo robe he’d also taken in trade for his horn bow. Turning quickly in the direction of the fire, he followed the path from where he’d come.
“If you value your life, you’ll keep quiet,” he warned when she continued to protest and fight.
She might be small, and weigh not much more than the deer he’d carried earlier, but she wasn’t without spirit. Time would tell how her body would hold up to the harshness of the land. Cam’s insides heated, and he cursed his reaction to her.
He’d learned all too much about her body already. She was soft and feminine, and she smelled like honey. It was the first thing he’d told her, even if she hadn’t understood his words. It was good that she thought the worst of him while he’d been trying to find the vessel on her person.
Cunning Fox had told him he needed to take her as his wife as part of the trade. It had been the Blackfoot’s way of toying with his prisoner one final time. Cam had no intention of forcing himself on a woman, but it had been more convincing on her part if she didn’t know that.
“Where are you taking me,” she demanded. Her unnatural position, belly-down over his shoulder, thankfully gave her lungs little room to expand, and her voice wasn’t as loud.
“Keep quiet, woman, or I’ll leave you to your fate with the Bakianee,” he growled. “I’m taking you somewhere safe.”
Thankfully, she stopped her squirming and even kept her mouth shut. Cam picked his way through the woods, his ears trained on sounds in the forest, and whether the Bakianee were following him. He retraced his steps from the direction in which he'd come, following the river that rushed below the well-worn deer trail.
Since the woman didn’t know anything about the ancient object and its capabilities, the man must have overheard Cam telling her how it worked, and he’d realized what was in his possession. He’d chosen to take the coward’s way out.
Cam cursed again. He could have sent the couple back to where they came from, and they both would have been safe. A blind man could see that they had been out of their element. Why would the Sky People send two such people to this time on purpose? They guarded the vessel fiercely. No one touched it by accident.
“You need to put m
e down. I can’t breathe,” the woman moaned after some time, cutting into his thoughts.
She’d remained quiet for a remarkably long time. They weren’t far from where he’d set up camp with Mat the night before. He’d circled around a few times, and gone in a different direction, splashing through several creeks to throw the Blackfoot off his trail, if they decided to pursue him in daylight.
Cam continued through the darkness. It would be many hours yet before dawn. He would make better time to reach Mat without the burden of the woman, but he couldn’t leave her alone in the forest. He had to let Mat know that he was alive, but she needed rest, and she couldn’t continue to be slung over his shoulder.
Choosing a rocky outcropping hidden behind a thick swath of bushes and lodgepoles, Cam set the woman on her feet. She cried out, and he grabbed for her arm before she fell.
"You can rest here," he said. "But you need to remain still." He pulled his knife from his belt, and by feel, cut the leather ties keeping her hands bound.
“Thank you,” she said, her voice weak and spent.
Cam draped the buffalo hide more fully over her shoulders to give her some warmth.
“I want to know what’s going on. Isn’t there a town or something nearby? How far are we from the university?”
Cam shook his head. She still didn’t believe him; that she’d time traveled from the future. In daylight, things would become clear to her.
“Voices carry in the night. We will talk in the morning,” he answered in a low tone. “Rest here.”
Hopefully, she’d agree and not argue. It was already obvious that she had a mind of her own, and wouldn’t take orders quietly. To make his point, Cam pushed her to the ground. His lips twitched in a smile when she resisted at first, but then sighed heavily and sank to her knees.
“I’d better get a full explanation in the morning,” she grumbled. “And if you so much as come near me, I’ll scream so loud, you’ll go deaf.”
Yellowstone Origins: Yellowstone Romance Series, Book 6 Page 5
