by Terry Spear
A shot from the wind-driven rain rang out, and then another.
The redhead stopped dead in his footsteps. A look of surprise filled his face as his eyes widened.
Had Dave hit him?
Simultaneously, the redhead yelped in pain. Again he screamed, then dashed out of the jungle.
She saw it then, slithering away…its cotton white mouth shut closed once more.
With an involuntary shudder, she turned her attention to the driver. She tugged at his arm to extricate him from the car. He moaned in pain. She leaned over him and pulled his seatbelt free. “Come on, mister. We’ve got to get out of here before the alligators come to feast.”
Really, she was more concerned about the return of the water moccasin or one of its companions, although alligators were known to be a real menace, too.
“Deidre!”
Dave. She wanted to melt in his arms, to feel his warm embrace forever. But the injured driver of the vehicle had to take priority.
Dave sloshed through the swamp toward her. “Deidre!”
“I’m all right, Dave. The driver of the car’s been injured.”
Dave handed his gun to Deidre. “Let me get him. You watch my back.” He helped lift the man from the car to his feet, hurrying him as much as he could.
What if the redheaded man returned for them? The notion filled her with dread as her stomach knotted in concern.
“My arm, I think I’ve broken my arm,” the driver moaned.
“We’re taking you to a house across the road.” Dave’s voice remained calm even in a crisis, impressing her how cool and collected he could be. As he headed for the road, he turned to Deidre. “Are you okay?”
Despite the panic she tried to tamp down, she managed to squeak out a “yes.” Her heart still pounded, the adrenaline coursing through her blood in haste.
“I killed him, didn’t I? I killed him on the road,” the injured man said.
With all her heart, she hoped so. “It’s all right. It wasn’t your fault.” They had to move him faster. What if the dark-haired man wasn’t totally incapacitated? What if he still followed them?
“Dave, there’s another, a dark-haired man who chased me.”
“Three of the men are looking for them.”
She didn’t think they’d ever get the injured driver to the front door of the house with the wind blowing them back every few seconds with every step they took. He groaned in agony.
When they reached the front porch, she hit the doorbell repeatedly, then banged on the door with all her might.
To Deidre’s relief, the door jerked open. Ricky pointed his gun at the injured driver.
“He’s not one of them. But he needs medical attention,” Dave assured him.
Ricky holstered his weapon and pulled out his cell phone. “I’m on it.”
Dave helped the injured man into the kitchen. “What in the world were you doing out there?” he scolded. “We thought you were sleeping in your room.”
“There’s a thug in my room. If he’s still alive—”
Ricky and Marilyn ran up the stairs with guns in hand their flashlights lighting the way in gloomy haste.
“I’m sorry, Deidre. I had no idea.”
“What? You think I’d go wondering about on a night like this for the heck of it?”
“Door’s jammed with his body, Boss!” Ricky shouted.
Deidre headed for the stairs.
Dave said, “Wait, Deidre—”
“I’m going to take a shower. When somebody finally gets back into my bedroom, have them bring me a change of clothes.”
Dave released his hold of the injured man to Bill’s care, then shadowed her to the top of the stairs, taking his gun from her and readying it. Finding the bathroom clear of danger, he nodded.
She folded her arms as he stood in the doorway. “Can I close the door, please?”
“Considering what happened the last time—”
“All right.” She pushed off her shoes and grabbed the bottom edge of her shirt. Her mouth turned up in a devilish grin.
He handed her a flashlight. “Just don’t lock the door.” He closed it on his way out.
Soon, the hot water soothed her aching muscles. She poured a handful of shampoo out. Massaging the soap into her scalp gave her a fresh outlook on life. For the moment, she was safe again, and clean. She paused as she heard thumping in the room next door.
After Deidre rinsed her hair and skin and turned off the shower, she heard Marilyn yell, “Sorry, Dave, he’s dead. Had a couple of slugs in the temple. Where’d she get the gun?”
Deidre wrapped a towel around her head. “It was the redhead!”
“What?” Dave said beyond the bathroom door.
“After I injured the man with the knife, I slipped out the window. When I made it to the roof over the garage, I saw the red-haired man climb into the bedroom. I thought I heard shots fired, but with all of the wind and thunder, I couldn’t be sure.” She slipped a towel around her body. “Anybody have my clothes ready?”
“Just a second. Marilyn’s getting you some things to wear.”
The door opened and Dave handed Deidre’s clothes to her.
She raised her brows. “Shouldn’t Marilyn have given me my clothes?”
“I was closer.”
Yeah, right. Smiling, she shut the door.
“Hey, Boss,” Ricky said, “the injured man said he hit a man on the road.”
“Yeah, one of the killers!” Deidre hollered.
“Deidre,” Dave said, “what about the redhead? I fired at him, but he was out of range I was pretty sure.”
“A snake bit him.”
She chuckled when nobody spoke. “At least that’s what I figured. The water moccasin slithered away after the man screamed twice in pain. Then Red hightailed it out of the jungle.” Served him right. She hoped he lay dying in agony somewhere that the gators could finish him off.
“The jungle,” Marilyn said, her voice filled with disbelief.
“Yes.” Deidre pulled the door open. “Anything else you want to know?”
“And you thought she was a pushover, Dave.” Marilyn jogged down the stairs.
Dave touched Deidre’s cheek. “We’re going to wait out the storm a bit longer, then hit the road.”
“Another safe house?” The notion they were going to another safe house, didn’t allay her still frayed nerves.
“Yeah, only hopefully there won’t be any storms to wreak havoc with our plans.”
“The man in my bedroom said Charlie had a manuscript he wanted.”
Charlie, standing at the bottom of the stairs, shook his head. “All the manuscripts I had were in the closet.”
Dave walked Deidre downstairs. “And none of those could be the basis for the killings, headquarters has assured us.”
Deidre looped her arm through her brother’s. “Maybe it wasn’t a paper manuscript. Did anyone send you a disk, Charlie?”
Charlie rubbed his chin. “Don’t recall. Then again, I had all of my mail forwarded to your house. Maybe the manuscript hadn’t arrived yet.”
Dave nodded at Bill who immediately got on the phone and walked into the living room.
Marilyn headed into the entryway. “Everyone’s packed and ready to go, Dave.”
Bill shook his head as he rejoined them. “Somebody broke into the post office. They hadn’t a clue as to what had been taken, because anything of value still remained in the safe.”
Ricky walked into the room and smiled. “Somebody say mail call?”
Dave scratched his head. “And the mail for Charlie, Bill?”
“They checked, but the mail had been forwarded.”
Ricky patted his chest. “I had it rerouted to headquarters for safekeeping.”
Grinning, Dave slapped him on the back. “Good man to have on the team. I told the boss he ought to keep you, Ricky.”
Bill poked numbers into the phone and walked out of the foyer.
“Okay, while Bill’s checking on
the status of Charlie’s mail, let’s get loaded in the vehicles. And, Ricky, why don’t you make a few calls and see if a red-haired man gets treatment for a venomous snakebite at a local hospital or clinic.”
Standing puddles of water in the kitchen made Deidre’s heart race. “Where’s the injured driver?”
“Ambulance hauled him away while you showered. A couple of the guys searched for the dark-haired man the driver struck. No sign of him.”
***
Dave took hold of Deidre’s arm as they walked out to the SUVs. Seeing her jump into the canal with the dark-haired man on her tail when he chanced to glimpse out one of the remaining glass windows in the sunroom, had nearly given him a stroke. But by the time he’d gathered his men and made a beeline across the backyard, both had disappeared into the night. From now on, she wasn’t getting out of his sight.
He glanced over at her as she crawled into the SUV. Her hair hung wet, like a golden waterfall, over her shoulders, just like when she’d left the swimming pool with him earlier. “How are you feeling, Deidre?”
She took a deep breath. “Weary, Dave. This has to end soon.”
It would, if he had his way. He slammed his door shut as everyone loaded into the vehicles. With his arm wrapped around her, he pulled her close. “I can’t afford to lose you.”
“Tough on promotions if you lose the one you’re assigned to protect.”
He looked down at her, and her smile told him she teased him. He smiled back. “They say when someone gets to feeling better, they become ornery.”
She chuckled, cheering him. He loved how even in a crisis, she held up well.
Johnson said, “Ready to go, Boss?”
“Yeah, move ‘em out.” Dave kissed Deidre’s forehead and squeezed her tight. All the way to Orlando, he intended to hold her warm body snuggled against his.
***
Twenty minutes after they were on their way, Bill hung up his phone. “Sorry, Dave, but there were no manuscripts in Charlie’s mail. So where to now?”
“We’ll spend the night at one of the hotels and—”
Deidre rubbed her brow as the cars drove over one of the causeways, the flooded waters rushing in a torrent under the bridge.
Dave patted her hand. “Are you having a headache?”
“No, sorry, the thought of going to Disney World pained me.”
Ricky laughed. “Don’t you want to go to Disney World? That could be quite an adventure!”
Too much noise and confusion. That’s what theme parks meant to her.
Seconds later, Dave’s phone rang. “Yes?” He wrinkled his brow foreshadowing imminent danger. “There’s an obstruction on the road ahead?”
The SUVs all rolled to a stop.
“What is it?” Dave peered through the gloom, his jar firmly set with concern.
“Just a sec. Get back to you.”
“What’s wrong?” The hair stood straight up on Deidre’s arms.
“We have it under control.”
She rubbed her temple again, her heart rate increasing in anxiety. “We’re not going to make it to Disney World.” An obstruction didn’t block their path. It was…
“Looks like the causeway is what? Hello? Damn! The line’s been disconnected.”
Dave poked the automatic redial button on his handset.
Deidre stared through the swishing windshield wipers sweeping the pummeling rain away for milliseconds. “Where’s the vehicle?” She gripped the seat with her fingernails. “The lead SUV isn’t in front! Back our car up! Back it up!”
Deidre grabbed Dave’s arm as floodwaters swept their vehicle off the causeway. She tried to turn her head, but couldn’t because of the pain radiating through her neck.
Sensing her anxiety, Dave looked rearwards. “Charlie’s car is still on the road. They’re backing up.”
The current pulled Deidre’s SUV down the river as the agents kicked out the windows. Dave tugged at her seatbelt. “All right, Deidre, we’re going to have to swim for it. You stick close to me.”
With a jerk, the vehicle snagged on a tree trunk wedged against another. Dave shoved his legs through the window feet first.
“Come on, Deidre!” He held onto the door handle as he waited for her to climb out beside him.
She peered out the window. The water tugged at him with tremendous force. She could do it. If she didn’t get mowed down by debris, she could manage. She slid out the window. Instantly, her body slammed against his as the water forced her into him.
“Okay, I’m going to let go. Follow me and swim to the bank over there.”
“All right, Dave.”
He released his hold and swam away from the car. The current was too much for him to handle. Like an inner tube bobbing around in the vast ocean, the water dragged him away. She closed her eyes and let go.
Snakes, sharks, jelly fish, horseshoe crabs with wickedly barbed tails, alligators—she imagined everything swimming about her in the brackish water. Having lived here before, she knew every bit of the evil that lurked in the dark river.
***
Dave had every intention of staying near the vehicle and helping Deidre to safety, but the water quickly swept him away. With powerful strokes, he attempted to head back toward the SUV, hoping to reach Deidre. Knowing she swam well didn’t satisfy the worry plaguing him. Anyone could easily drown in the turbulent water, and he had to find and help her.
When he attempted to shout to her, something ran into his ribs, a tree limb, possibly. Sharp pain radiated through his body. He groaned in agony. Then he realized if he didn’t attempt to swim to shore, he’d lose the strength to make it.
“Deidre!” he yelled, his word drowned out by the rush of the water.
His ribs ached with every stroke he took. Had they broken this time? They felt as if they’d cracked in two.
“Deidre!” he hollered again, his voice already tired and drawn. His strength dwindled against the power of the river. He couldn’t give up, and he couldn’t let Deidre drown.
***
“Dave!” Deidre hollered, swallowing a mouthful of fishy-tasting water. Choking and coughing, she grabbed onto a floating tree, bobbing up and down in the torrent.
“Dave!” She thought she’d heard him call to her. But now there was no sound of his reassuring voice above the roar of the river.
The tree spirited her away from the shore. In desperation, she let go.
She swam a small ways across. Stroke, stroke, pause for air, stroke, stroke. But every second, the water carried her farther from the road and safety.
“Deidre!” Was it Dave calling her name? She couldn’t tell if it was so, or just her imagination playing tricks with her mind.
After struggling through the warm water for several minutes, she grabbed hold of a branch of a tree buried in the rushing current. “Dave!”
“Here, Deidre!”
Adding to her anxiety, pain tinged Dave’s voice. But the sound of his voice gave her strength. It sounded like it came from somewhere upstream. With renewed determination, she took a deep breath and then swam toward the shore. To her relief, the winds died down. The rain lessened to a light drizzle. A branch struck her shoulder, and she groaned in pain. Frustrated beyond measure, she clawed her way to the shore.
Finally, her fingers dug into the reed-covered mud on the shoreline. As soon as she dragged herself from the water, she yelled, “Where are the others?”
Tripping over debris to reach Dave, she could barely make out his outline as the morning dawned.
He held his chest as he hurried to join her as quickly as he could. “I don’t know. I haven’t heard from them. But I’ve been searching for you forever.”
“Are you all right?” She tripped over an exposed tree root and stumbled to her knees. Exasperated, but not beaten, she clambered back to her feet.
“I think I bruised a few of the same ribs. And you?” He struggled through the thick vines separating them.
“Fine, though I don’t thi
nk my back is ever going to heal.”
He hurriedly wrapped his arms around her in a gentle embrace as soon as he met her at the edge of the broiling river. His skin in contact with hers warmed her. “You know being with you is kind of a dangerous proposition,” she said.
He chuckled and pulled her closer. “My ribs make it hurt to laugh.”
They rested for several minutes, holding each other close, their hearts nearly beating as one.
“Dave, are you sure you’re all right? Do you want me to try to find the road and get help?” Anxiety filled her. No way did she want to fight off an alligator at the shore’s edge. This time she had no plunger to tackle a poisonous snake. Torn between leaving him alone and finding help for him, Dave solved her dilemma.
“We stick together. I’ll be fine. My ribs just hurt some.”
Relieved he wished to proceed with her, she felt compelled to move quickly to safer ground. “I don’t want to sound like a worry wart or anything, but don’t you think we should try to find the others? Alligators and snakes and—”
“Yeah, let’s go.”
She slipped her hand around his waist while his hand tucked around hers. Trying to get her mind off her pain, she considered their predicament. “At least the bad guys won’t be looking for us here.”
He gritted his teeth and winced in agony. “Not likely. Though if the redhead came this way and his vehicle washed off the road, he might not be a threat any longer.”
“You’re sure you couldn’t find the other guy?”
“The police were going to search the area further. He might have crawled off to die somewhere else.”
“I’ve been trying to figure out what might have happened to the manuscript. Are you sure it wasn’t misdirected? Shoot, it might never get to where it’s supposed to be.”
“You never know. The title to my house was lost in the mail. Six months and many phone calls later, I received it. I still don’t know how in the world it managed to be delayed so long.”
“You own your own house?”
“Condo. I didn’t want to have yard work when I’m gallivanting about the country saving damsels in distress.”
She smiled. “It appears I’m rescuing you.”
He laughed. “Ohhh,” he groaned. “It hurts to laugh, Deidre.”
“Sorry.”
