I Hear Voices

by Gail Koger

  In the distance, thunder rumbled and growled.

  Sam and I exchanged worried looks.

  Hank took one glance at the building storm clouds and told the Med-Evac paramedics, “They’re all stable and we need to boogie now.”

  The next thing I knew my head was wrapped in gaze, I was strapped in a basket and being carried to a waiting helicopter. “Really, I can walk.”

  His arm in a sling, Sam patted my shoulder.

  “No, you can’t.”

  “But you get to walk.”

  “I don’t have a head injury.”

  “It’s just a really bad headache.”

  “Headaches don’t bleed.”

  He had a point. In the helicopter we went.

  As we lifted off, I caught a brief glimpse of Derek, Ed and the deputies pulling skulls out of the wreckage.

  Slashes of incandescent green danced across the towering black clouds.

  “Sam, tell Derek that unless he wants to start picking pieces of fuselage out of his butt, they need to leave now.”

  Sam nodded, tapped his ear piece and relayed my message.

  A freaking command center had been set up in the parking lot of the Lost Dutchman’s park. I sure hoped they hadn’t towed my car off. The sooner I got the tracker removed, the sooner I could ditch the Tomb Raider.

  The minute the helicopter touched down Sam and I were whisked inside a tent set up like an emergency room. They wheeled me behind a gauzy curtain and plopped me on a bed. “Thanks guys.”

  “Our pleasure, ma’am,” the paramedics responded and left.

  My eyes widened when a Patrick Dempsey clone walked in with a clipboard. He grinned at my startled expression. “Yeah, I look a bit like that actor.”

  “A bit?”

  The doctor held up a pen light and flashed it in my eyes. “Got a headache?”

  “I was in a helicopter crash, what do you think?”

  Flashing me a dimpled, Hollywood smile, he examined my head laceration. “A little dab of surgical glue should fix this. Derek wouldn’t want your pretty face scarred.”

  Huh? Like he gave a shit. It was time for me to play the harmless, slightly ditzy patient. In other words, act like a bimbo. “Derek has been such a comfort. I don’t know what I’d done without him,”

  I gushed.

  Doctor Hollywood cleaned the blood off my face. “There’s nothing Derek can’t handle.”

  Wanna bet? “Oh, don’t I know it. He’s such a take charge kinda guy.” The bossy prick.

  “The Commander does expect his orders to be followed.”

  Well, fuckadoodledoo, the jackass could bark all the orders he wanted but it didn’t mean I had to follow them. “He’s a hero. He pulled all of us from that burning helicopter and went back in for that poor pilot. Do you know how she’s doing?”

  The doctor swabbed my forehead. “They took her directly to St Joseph’s Trauma Center.”

  I let my voice tremble. “She isn’t going to die, is she?”

  “No. She’s stable. They’re just concerned about the compound fracture in her left femur.”

  Tears rolling down my cheeks, I latched onto to his arm and sobbed, “Are you sure? There was so much blood.”

  “Head injuries always bleed a lot.” The doctor pried my fingers off his arm and shot me a suspicious look.

  Shit, my acting abilities were definitely on the fritz. I gave him a wobbly smile. “I’m sorry to be such a baby but blood makes me want to hurl and

  there was so much of it. It drenched her hair and her face. The way that bone poked through her coverall.” I gagged and made nasty retching sounds.

  He picked up a hypodermic needle. “Maybe I should sedate you.”

  What!? “I thought you couldn’t sedate people with head injuries?”

  “I’ll make an exception in your case.”

  Amusement gleamed in his eyes as he picked up a vial, inserted a hypodermic needle and slowly drew down the fluid.

  “Had a bit of a talk with Derek, huh?”

  “Yeah, I did.”

  I held up my hands. “I’ll be good.”

  “Sloan said you were a smart girl.” He exchanged the needle for a silver tube and leaned over me. “This might sting a bit.”

  Liquid fire spread across my forehead. Holy Mother of God! Sting a bit? “You’re a sadist, aren’t you?”

  “It comes with the territory.” He covered my burning forehead with a large bandage. “All done.

  Now that wasn’t so bad, was it?”

  “Just color me happy. Do I get a lollipop?”

  The doctor laughed. “Sorry, all out.” He picked up a suture tray. “Let’s take a look at that arm.”

  “My arm’s fine,” I protested, cringing back on the bed. “Hank already fixed it.”

  The sadistic doctor glanced at my chart.

  “Nope. It says right here you need stitches and a head x-ray.”

  Who knew Hank was such a narc? “You brought an x-ray machine with you?”

  “We’re a mobile trauma team and we’re set up to handle all sorts of disaster scenes.”

  Rats! There went my chance of sneaking out of a busy emergency room.

  The beast picked up the hypodermic needle and tapped it.

  “I thought you weren’t going to sedate me?”

  “This will deaden your arm so I can sew you up without a lot of screaming.”

  “You should do stand-up comedy.”

  He inserted the needle. “I have a weekly show at the Laugh Factory.”

  Was he pulling my leg?

  With an amazing dexterity, the sadistic Doctor Giggles quickly put five stitches in my left arm.

  A pretty nurse stuck her head around the curtain. “Doctor McKenzie wants you to take a look at some x-ray films, sir.”

  “I’ll be right there.” Flashing me a dazzling smile, the scummy creep quickly handcuffed me to the gurney.

  I held my right arm up. “What’s this for?” Like I didn’t know.

  “Commander Sloan wants to make sure you don’t wander off.”

  “How far does he think I’ll get with a concussion?”

  “He said you were a slippery little thing and I shouldn’t take any chances.” The doctor patted my shoulder. “I’ll be right back.”

  And I would be long gone. I pulled a lock pick out of the nifty belt buckle Uncle Aldo had given me and quickly unlocked the cuffs. Easing the IV

  needle out, I swung my legs over the bed and stood.

  “Whoa!” I waited until everything stopped spinning and the funny black dots went away before peering around the curtain.

  Doctor Giggles and another man in combat khaki were busily examining x-ray films of what had to be Sam’s arm. Yeow! That was a pretty nasty break. I snuck past them and peeked out of the tent.

  Yippee! The coast was clear and thankfully my car hadn’t been towed. I staggered over to it and let out a growl of rage. That bastard had flattened all four of my tires. Like that would stop me. I eyed his Hummer and smiled. I’d never driven one before.

  Retrieving my hide-a-key, I popped the trunk, got my emergency bag and tool kit. Uncle Aldo had made me a special electronic car key that would override any security system. With one push of a button, I was in Derek’s Hummer. I inserted the key and it started right up. Boy was he gonna be pissed.

  Especially when he found the note I left him.

  A black Maricopa County Sheriff’s helicopter landed on the far side of the parking lot. With a grin, I cranked up the AC and drove off.

  Chapter Six

  “You ungrateful child,” Granny Annabel chided, “your man risked his life for you and this is how you repay him?”

  “Risked his life? When and where did this wonderful event happen? Cuz I think I missed it.”

  “That Apache warrior would have killed you if he had not intervened.”

  “Possibly, but at no time was Derek in any danger.”

  Granny snapped, “He risked his life to pull
you from the burning helicopter.”

  “Wow and how did he manage to do that without getting his shirt singed or his hair mussed?”

  Okay, I was being a cranky butt, but geez, she was like a broken record.

  The temperature dropped fifty degrees. Great, I had pissed her off. I shot a cautious look at the passenger seat. Granny was back in her gypsy garb.

  I always wondered where she got all those bracelets. Ghosts R Us?

  “I insist you go back and apologize.”

  “Apologize for what?”

  “For stealing Derek’s cookies, shocking him with your stun gun and getting him attacked by a swarm of angry bees.”

  I rubbed my throbbing head. “The jerk deserved it. Did you forget he had Uncle Aldo, your son, arrested?”

  The temperature in the Hummer dropped another twenty degrees. “You owe him.”

  “For putting a tracker on me like I was some migratory elk?”

  “He saved your life.”

  “And I saved his butt when I took down the Thunder God. So, we’re even.”

  “You have not completed your training. Until you are powerful enough to defeat Sophie, you need a strong man…”

  I turned up the radio to drown out her lecture.

  The radio crackled and died abruptly. “For God’s sake, give it a rest. Aunt Sophie’s my problem and I will deal with her.” Sometime in the next fifty years.

  Granny suddenly cried, “Derek’s very angry, bella.”

  Rolling my eyes, I pulled onto the freeway and kicked it up to eighty. “So?”

  An image abruptly formed in my mind.

  Frustrated rage simmering in his eyes, Derek stormed out of the emergency medical tent. He spat a foul curse when he realized his Hummer was gone.

  A grinning Ed followed him into the parking lot.

  “Aw, she left you a note.”

  Sloan’s furious gaze settled on the piece of purple paper flapping under the windshield wiper

  blade of my Sonata. He snagged the note, read it and wadded it up.

  “What did it say, boss?”

  “Outclassed, my ass.”

  Ed laughed. “She’s a feisty little thing and the only woman who hasn’t fallen all over herself trying to please you.”

  Derek smiled. A menacing, you’re-so-going-to-die kinda smile. “That ‘feisty little thing’ is about to learn who’s boss.”

  The bellow of an air horn snapped me back to the here and now. Shit! I swerved back in my lane, barely missing a tanker truck.

  The truck driver flipped me the bird.

  I waved at him and yelled, “Sorry.”

  “You will be,” Derek’s cold voice announced from the speakers.

  I just loved cars equipped with On Star. It made life so interesting. “Your Hummer pulls to the left.”

  “Turn my Hummer around and get your ass back to the command center.”

  “And if I don’t?”

  “I’ll have you arrested for grand theft auto.”

  “I’ll just bet you have the County Attorney in your pocket and you’ll get me released into your custody.”

  “Something like that.”

  “Gosh, I think I’ll have to pass.”

  “Get ready to meet Phoenix’s finest.”

  “Whoopdee-do,

  I’m

  all

  atwitter

  in

  anticipation.”

  “You might be able to outrun the cops but I can find you no matter where you go.”

  “Gee, I’m surprised I don’t have my own satellite by now.”

  “You do.”

  I laughed. “Right. Like the U.S. government would just let you borrow one, when you needed it.”

  “You have sixty seconds to get to the emergency lane before I disable the engine.”

  “Good luck with that. I overrode your security system.”

  There was a long pause then he snarled, “One of your uncle’s gadgets?”

  “Yep.” I glanced in the rear view mirror and frowned. Was that a gang of bikers on my ass?

  “Granny, does that look like the Dirty Dozen or the Pirates?”

  “Dear God, that’s One-Eyed Jack.”

  “Shit. Shit. Shit.” I sucked in a calming breath.

  It’d be okay, there was no way they knew I was in this Hummer. Unless… I groaned. “Please tell me you didn’t broadcast my name across the police scanners?”

  “It’s standard procedure,” Derek growled.

  “Well your standard procedure is going to get me killed.”

  “Nice try.”

  Eight motley bikers encircled the Hummer like a pack of hungry wolves.

  A cry of alarm tore from me as they started bashing out windows with crowbars and heavy chains.

  “Pull over,” One-Eyed Jack shouted.

  I floored it, darting across three lanes in a desperate attempt to lose them in the heavy traffic. “Sic’em Granny.”

  She vanished. In the rear view mirror, I saw her materialize on the handlebars of Renegade’s Harley.

  Renegade’s eyes bugged out, his bike wobbled dangerously before he slammed on the brakes and was rear ended by a Volkswagen.

  Sloan demanded, “What’s going on?”

  “My imaginary pack of bikers broke out your windows and are chasing me,” I answered, veering around an old lady in a Cadillac who was crawling along at a sedate twenty-five miles an hour.

  “Give them a bad reading?”

  “Har. Har. Their girlfriends wanted to know their futures and I told them.”

  “Let me guess, unmarked graves in the desert?”

  “You get a gold star.”

  “The girlfriends turned the assholes in?”

  “Yep, they handed Sheriff Joe a flash drive loaded with enough evidence to put the entire gang behind bars for the next four hundred years.”

  “How did they find out about you, Angel?”

  “One-Eyed Jack’s bitch had a change of heart,”

  I answered, zigzagging around two slow moving semi-trucks.

  “She’s dead?”

  “Oh yeah, they’re still finding pieces of her.”

  “You wouldn’t be in this mess if you stayed where I put you.”

  “News flash, I’m not your trained hunting dog and I’m not letting you walk away with all the treasure.”

  “I’ll give you ten percent of the gold.”

  “Why that is mighty generous of you but I have to pass.”

  One-Eyed Jack roared up to the shattered driver’s window and waved a . Magnum, Dirty Harry special at me. “Pull over, bitch.”

  I shouted back, “You need a big gun to make up for your little dick, asshole?”

  He cranked off a round.

  I shrieked and flinched. To my utter amazement, the bullet hit the door frame, ricocheted off the metal and struck One-Eyed Jack in the shoulder.

  His Hog careened wildly and crashed into the freeway wall. One-Eyed tumbled head over heels and was hit by the old lady in the Cadillac.

  “Ouch! That had to hurt.”

  Derek bellowed, “Do you have a death wish?”

  “Stop yelling at me. I’ve got the headache from hell, every inch of my body hurts and I really need some chocolate,” I ended on a wail.

  “I’ll buy you a fucking box of chocolate every fucking day; just don’t get dead on me.”

  “Okay, but it’s gotta be Godiva.” Veering around a freaked out teenager in a Camaro, I heard a loud bang and the Hummer fishtailed wildly. “Oh God! Oh God!”

  A big bear of a man with a bushy beard filled my side view mirror. I broke out in a cold sweat as Pirate John raised his shotgun and shot out my left rear tire.

  The Hummer swerved violently from lane to lane. White knuckling the steering wheel, I fought desperately for control.

  Horns blared, tires squealed and a series of loud crashes sounded behind me. I shot a quick glance at the rearview mirror. Freaked out motorists were crashing right and l
eft as they tried to evade the gun wielding bikers.

  Sparks flew like fireworks on the Fourth of July as the Hummer’s back tires shredded and the rims ground against the asphalt.

  “Hold on. The police are three minutes out,”

  Sloan growled.

  “I’ll be dead by then.” The Hummer skidded left, struck the guardrail, bounced back and went into a spin.

  “Turn into the skid,” Derek commanded.

  I instinctively obeyed, hit guardrail again and flipped the Hummer. Metal shrieked like fingernails down a blackboard as the Hummer slid sideways

  down the emergency lane and came to a stop next to a yield sign.

  “Turn into the skid, he says. Great advice, if you wanna crash,” I grumbled and released the seatbelt. I fell against passenger’s side door and lay there for a moment as my head spun dizzily. God, I’d kill for some Advil.

  The driver’s airbag deployed with a loud bang.

  My eyes popped open in horror and I quickly threw my arms up in front of my face. Bam! The passenger side airbag deployed and white powder filled the air. “Sonvabitch, that stings!” I rubbed my burning arms and hacked up a lung. That stuff was awful.

  The roar of Hogs had me scrambling for my bag. “Granny?”

  She popped in wearing a police uniform. “I’ve taken out three of the perps.”

  “Four down, four to go.” I pulled out a stun gun and a smoke bomb out of my backup bag.

  Pirate John called, “I know you’re in there, pumpkin.” His hairy paw reached through the shattered window.

  I nailed him with the stun gun.

  His loud shrieks were music to my ears. “How’d you like that, pumpkin?”

  “Smoke bomb now,” Granny Annabel cried.

  Lobbing the smoke bomb out the driver’s window, I quickly crawled out of the rear window and ran like hell. Okay, it was more of a totter.

  Those blasted black dots were back and I was still hacking.

  Bullets raked the asphalt around me. “Freeze or the next one is in your head,” a gravelly voice shouted.

  I staggered to a halt and raised my hands.

  “Drop the stun gun”

  I did.

  “Turn around.”

  Cautiously, I turned and groaned as Peg Leg Pete limped towards me. He was the worst of the bunch, a little rat-faced man with an explosive temper and a really big gun.