Ghosts of Culloden Moor 22 - Murdoch (Diane Darcy)

by L. L. Muir

  No way was she leaving that man behind. She belonged to him? Well, if that was the case, then he belonged to her too!

  She peeked around the corner and the dinging of a bell made her realized the door to the SUV was open. She darted forward, dove into the driver’s seat, and looked into the back.

  Empty.

  She shut the driver’s door and pressed the lock on all the doors just as a rock hit the front window at eye level, leaving a slight gouge.

  Wait. Not a rock, a bullet. Blood drained from her face even as she registered the fact that the glass was bulletproof. She actually laughed. She was safe.

  She turned the key and the SUV started with ease, the engine practically purring. Only the best for these criminals.

  She scanned the area, looking for Murdoch.

  She didn’t see him.

  She immediately drove around back where she’d left her family. She rolled down the window. “Get in! It’s me, Sarah! Get in!”

  Her family quickly darted from the bushes as she unlocked the doors. As soon as they jumped into the back seat, she locked the doors and rolled up the window.

  When a bad guy darted across the front yard, she only had a momentary hesitation. She pressed the accelerator determined to run him down. Better that he died than Murdoch. She might not have a gun, but she still had a lethal weapon.

  The man threw himself at the back steps and jumped inside and she missed him. He was quick! She saw his look of astonishment before he raised his gun and shot the passenger side of the vehicle.

  The window held.

  Heh.

  The square-shaped man came at the shooter and decked him. “Do not shoot my car!” The man’s booming voice was loud enough she heard him. “I just purchased it and I don’t want it messed up for no reason! Even the tires are bullet resistant! You can’t kill her, so stop shooting my car or I will kill you!”

  Heh, Heh.

  Square man turned to look at Sarah, pure evil in his eyes.

  Panicked, she quickly drove around the side of the house with a vague plan to drive around the house in circles until she found Murdoch, but it wasn’t necessary. He was in her path, grappling with another man.

  Sarah moved to intercept him. She pulled the car beside the two of them and lowered the window a slight fraction.

  “No,” Jessica screamed. “Roll up the window!”

  “Murdoch,” Sarah yelled his name.

  He glanced over at them and raised his arm in the other direction, shooting his gun three times in quick succession. “Murdoch, get in!” She scooted across the seat and opened the door for him. “Run!”

  “Sarah, watch out!”

  She turned her head to see a criminal almost upon her. As if in slow motion, the man lifted his gun.

  She screamed.

  And then Murdoch was there, blocking her with his huge body.

  One, two, three, in quick succession, Murdoch’s body jerked against hers as bullets pierced him.

  “No!” She screamed the word as, four, five, six, his body jerked repeatedly from the force of the shots.

  He turned and shoved her back inside the car, shut the door, then facing forward, slumped against it, protecting her to the end.

  Someone tried the driver’s side door and Mom and Jessica started to scream.

  Feeling like the biggest traitor in the world, Sarah reached out and locked the passenger door again.

  As if he’d heard the door lock, he slipped to the ground. “No!” Sarah, crying, screamed again, her mind having a hard time accepting what she was seeing.

  “He’s gone, Sarah, go!” Mom screamed.

  Men started to gather around the vehicle. Around Murdoch, and when she couldn’t see them clearly, she realized she was crying.

  She felt a shaky hand on her shoulder. “Sweetheart.” It was her grandfather. “He’s been shot too many times to live. We have to go or we’re going to end up dead too.”

  Every door on the vehicle was being tried.

  “Drive, Sarah!” Jessica screeched.

  Mom hit the back of the seat. “Go! Go!”

  Horror-struck and heartsick, she moved over to the driver’s seat and pressed the accelerator. Fists hit the car as they surged forward. The car fishtailed on the dirt road, past rundown fences, and back onto the old highway.

  She swallowed. She’d just left him there.

  She could feel hysteria burning at her chest. Bubbling up.

  Again her grandfather’s hand was on her shoulder. “It’s okay. We’re away. I don’t know who he was, but he was a brave man, wasn’t he? There was nothing you could do to help him.”

  “I just left him there! He was,” she swallowed, “gone, right?” She hadn’t just left him there to be tortured? She hadn’t just saved her own skin when he was the bravest man she’d ever met?

  Gripping the steering wheel, she sobbed. She’d only known him for a short while but it felt like her heart was breaking.

  Mindlessly, she followed her grandfather’s instructions, turning when he said to, speeding at his insistence, but she didn’t feel like she was even there. She was still with him. He was still alive.

  She hit the steering wheel. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this! We were all supposed to get out of there together! He was mine, grandpa. He was mine.” Unable to see, she wiped at her eyes.

  Brave hero that he was, he’d literally given his life for them.

  “Hey, there are guns in the back here.” Jessica’s voice shook. “And ammunition.”

  A car drove toward them on the highway, coming from the opposite direction.

  Sarah slowed the SUV and then swerved in front of the car forcing them to stop. She jumped out and hurried to the window of the young twenty-something driver. He slowly rolled his window down and the young woman with him leaned forward.

  “I need some help. I have an injured elderly man, and two freaked out women who need a hospital. Can you take them?”

  The two gaped at her. “Uh, sure. There’s one twenty miles back.”

  “Thank you.”

  She ran to the SUV. “Everyone out. They’re taking you to the hospital.”

  It was her mother’s turn to gape. “But Sarah, where are you going?”

  Sarah popped the back of the car open and rounded it to look at the weapons. “I’m going to go back and get Murdoch if I can.”

  “Sarah, no,” her mother moved forward. “He’s gone, sweetheart.”

  “Borrow a cell phone and call the police, will you?”

  “Sarah, this is not a good idea.” Her grandfather’s voice was weak, but stern.

  She placed her hands on the edge of the car, and leaned in, exhausted. “Do you think I don’t know that? But I have to do this. I can’t stand the thought of his body lying there in the muck at that place. What are they doing to him? If I can’t do anything, I can’t. But I have a bullet proof car and I have to try. Send the police.”

  They got in the car and it quickly sped off, back in the direction it had come from.

  Sarah removed guns with zero hesitation. She’d kill them all if she had to.

  She tested two by shooting into the air. She found extra ammunition, tested it, then set the guns on the seat beside her. She locked the doors and turned the SUV around.

  She wasn’t leaving him behind.

  ~~~

  Sarah drove back as fast as she dared, visions of Murdoch’s body being mutilated, defiled by those men urging her on.

  At the same time, she was still having a hard time accepting.

  He was dead, wasn’t he?

  She knew he was, had felt the bullets enter his body. But she just couldn’t get herself to believe it.

  He was larger than life. The force of his personality so big that she was having a hard time believing he could just be gone.

  She was probably in shock, but wouldn’t she feel it if he was dead? Yes, they’d only known each other for two days, but they’d bonded. She’d never felt this way about a
man before. They were connected somehow. She’d felt it, so she would know, wouldn’t she?

  She turned off and sped down the dirt road, then turned again onto the rundown property. When the headlights lit up the yard, men stood around Murdoch’s body, Donovan going through his pockets, another man nudging him with his boot.

  Grief and protectiveness roared up inside her and she absolutely lost her mind.

  Screaming, she accelerated, and tried with every fiber of her being to run the villains over. To flatten them! Kill them! Wipe them from the face of the planet!

  Guns lifted, then lowered as square pants stopped them from shooting. They ran instead, dipping, darting, jumping out of the way.

  She turned around and went for them again.

  She was hurting so badly inside, her chest clenching, her heart burning.

  Murdoch was dead? She couldn’t stand it. She wanted all of them dead too.

  Sarah rolled down her window halfway, screamed, and started shooting. The gun jumped in her hand, and she almost dropped it. She stomped on the brake, and with both hands free, shot up the front yard. Splinters flew from the porch, raining flecks of wood.

  Men scattered, ducking to the sides of the old structure, diving into the house.

  As she continued to shoot, she screamed out her pain and rage.

  She wanted them away from his body.

  She knew she couldn’t lift him, but she could guard him until the police arrived.

  Murdoch stood.

  Sarah gaped, took her foot off the accelerator, and the car rolled to a stop as she continued to gape.

  He headed for her at a run.

  She sucked in a breath, rolled up her window, and as men started to shoot at Murdoch out of the windows of the house, she accelerated forward between them and Murdoch. She put the car in park, and unlocked his door.

  With a grimace, he slid inside. “Murdoch,” she breathed out his name. Tears filled her eyes. “You’re alive?”

  He chuckled. “After a fashion, apparently.”

  She just fell apart and started to sob. “You’re here! Please, please, just don’t ever leave me like that again!”

  The next thing she knew she was sitting on his lap, hugging him tight, as his arms held her to him. He bent his head and rubbed his cheek against her hair.

  She looked down at his body, saw bullet holes in his shirt, but didn’t see any blood. He felt like real flesh and blood, but… No blood. And she’d seen him, felt him shot multiple times.

  She felt him again, lifted his shirt and pressed fingers against warm, undamaged flesh. He wasn’t wearing a bulletproof jacket. “Murdoch, we’re dead aren’t we? I rolled down the window and I was shot and killed instantly, wasn’t I?”

  He chuckled. “Nae, lass. Ye’re not dead. I ken the difference.”

  “You know what? I don’t care. Just as long as we stay together, I can handle this. You belong to me now, you know that, right?” She lay her head on his chest and started to cry again. “You’re mine, Murdoch. Forever.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Murdoch had been in many a battle, but never seen anything like it.

  Like her.

  Even believing him dead, Sarah fought for him.

  She’d come back for him.

  The love he held for her seemed to explode in his chest, filling every fiber of his being.

  She’d come back for him.

  As they sat there, intertwined, men came from the shadows.

  They crept closer to the car.

  He didn’t want to let Sarah go, but forced himself to lean back so he could look down at her beautiful, tear-stained face. “Sarah, love.” He slowly twisted until she sat on the seat next to him so he could slide over to the driver side. He moved the gun she’d been using onto the seat between them. “We’re going to have to go now.”

  He put the car in reverse, and slowly started to back up.

  Men scattered out of the way, then stopped to watch him. He looked at them as he drove slowly by.

  They looked back, menacing gazes full of purpose.

  It was eerie, like driving through a battlefield during a calm stretch, and seeing the resolve and hatred on the enemy’s faces.

  They thought they had resolve? Try and kill him, would they? Try and harm Sarah?

  The moment he was able, he’d launch a surprise attack. He’d get Sarah to safety, and then be back to deal with them all.

  He continued to drive slowly by, noting the guns they held.

  Someone gave a shouted order.

  Men moved to one side, raised guns, and the entire car was blasted with bullets.

  Someone ran forward and threw open Sarah’s door.

  It was unlocked?

  Murdoch lunged for her.

  “No!” Sarah threw herself forward and one shot rang out as she blocked a bullet with her body. Blocked the shot to him.

  Sarah jerked backward as blood exploded from her.

  A guttural bellow roared through the car and he realized the sound came from him. “Nae, Sarah! Nae!”

  ~~~

  She’d been shot?

  Her own fault, she acknowledged. She’d forgotten to lock the door. Stupid! Stupid. This was nothing less than she deserved.

  Her ears hurt. Murdoch screamed in a language unknown to her, his voice agonized, wretched, hysterical.

  He fired repeatedly at the man who’d shot her, the noise deafening her, leaving her ears ringing. The bullets sent the man tumbling backward as Murdoch accelerated and surged forward. The door shut on its own, which was good. She didn’t think she’d be able to reach for it. She couldn’t seem to move. She heard the snick of the lock and could feel herself fading. Something heavy was over her chest. Murdoch’s arm, he was pushing her back into the seat. He was swinging the steering wheel, turning the car around.

  Light faded.

  She was dying.

  But if she hadn’t come back Murdoch would be dead now.

  If she had to die to save him, she could accept that. He’d done no less for her.

  Her family was safe. Murdoch was safe. She was okay with her fate.

  Murdoch shoved the gear into park and held her close. He turned on the overhead light and pulled her shirt down to access her wound. “I’ve got ye. Ye cannnae die, Sarah. Do ye ken me? If ye’re gone, ’tis all been for naught. If ye doonae stay with me, I’ll turn to madness, I swear it. Do ye understand that I waited years for ye? Only for ye. Ye’re the reason I couldnae move on.”

  An occasional bullet pinged the car.

  Murdoch’s breathing was harsh as he pressed on her shoulder. “Ye were here, waiting in my future. Making it all worth it. Ye must be well, Sarah. Talk to me, lass. Tell me ye’re here. I’ll get ye to safety, to a doctor. I’ll make this right. I swear it.”

  She panted, pain from the pressure of his hand making her head swim. “And you always keep your promises?”

  “Always!” Murdoch gently set her against the seat and pulled her tight against his body. He straightened the car, and a young, beautiful girl was highlighted in the beams, a plaid dress flowing around her legs.

  He slammed on the brakes and the car lurched to a stop as pain knifed through Sarah.

  The girl smiled. A smiling angel.

  Through the windshield, Sarah smiled back.

  She really was dead, then, wasn’t she?

  As her head lolled to the side she heard Murdoch’s roar, then knew no more.

  ~~~

  Harsh breaths expelled from his body and some dark corner of Murdoch’s mind told him Soncerae was there. He’d seen the lass, but it didn’t matter anymore.

  Sarah was gone. Dead.

  Gun in hand, Murdoch threw open the door and started to shoot. The man in front of him went down and he snatched up his gun as well, rounding the car and continuing to shoot one man after another.

  He’d lost Sarah, which meant he’d lost everything!

  Soni was there, but too late, too late. He knew she was to ta
ke him, but not before he got his revenge.

  Arm outstretched, another man killed, he walked up the porch steps, kicked open the door and blasted his gun. Two more dead.

  He couldn’t breathe as grief tightened his throat.

  He took five shots to the back, but it didn’t seem to affect him as he turned and killed the man, emptying his gun.

  He grabbed another as he went through the house, out the back, rounded the corner, found another and killed him as well.

  Everyone was dead.

  Sarah was dead.

  Throwing the gun down, he went back to the vehicle and gathered Sarah gently into his arms. Noises bubbled up from his throat as he fell to his knees, hugging her tight to his chest.

  He was crying, howling, and he couldn’t seem to stop.

  Why had he been happy when she’d come back for him? Now she was dead! He’d not wanted her dead!

  “Weel, Murdoch, what do ye wish to do?” Soni’s light, happy voice sounded nearby, incongruous in this dark atmosphere of death. She’d been the same at Culloden Moor, spreading hope, and cheer.

  But not here, not now.

  “Do ye wish to say goodbye first?”

  “What d’ye think I’m doing?” He grated the words. His arms tightened about Sarah as a thought occurred to him. “I’m taking Sarah with me.”

  He finally glanced at Soni. She looked sympathetic. “Taking her with ye? Ye know she cannnae go with ye. She has to stay here.”

  “Why cannae I take her?”

  Soni looked exasperated. “Murdoch. Take her where?”

  He clenched his eyes. If he was going to Hell, he didn’t wish her there with him, did he? He held her closer, crying into her hair. He never did anything right.

  “D’ye wish to go meet with Bonnie Prince Charlie?”

  “Like I care about him!” He sobbed out the words.

  “So ye dinnae wish to meet with the man? Get yer vengeance? Murdoch, ye’ve got to help me out here. What d’ye want?”

  “I dinnae give a rat’s arse about Bonnie Prince Charlie! I never have! How could I when everything is my fault!”

  Soni tipped her head to the side. “What’s yer fault?”

  He held Sarah to him. “Culloden Moor! If I’d recognized Bradstreet, my counterpart, if we hadn’t turned back, no one would have died at that godforsaken place!”