Smoke & Mirrors

by Rowe, Julie

  Kini was going to go after his balls if he snuck out on her, but before they left the safety of his hideout, he needed to know what their enemy was doing. Decision made, Smoke closed his eyes and napped for twenty minutes before easing away from her warm and curvy body. It fed something violent and wild inside him to hold her, to keep her safe, and what he was about to do was all about her safety.

  Smoke left her a small note propped up against his backpack telling her to stay inside, and that he’d be back soon from a short scouting mission. He even promised not to kill anyone. Then, he cautiously crawled out of the structure.

  He left the gully, but instead of checking out the wash in the direction of town, he went down the canyon and climbed up the opposite side. Those men and the helicopter came from somewhere. He wanted to know where.

  At the top of the cliff, he crouched amongst some sage brush. The cool air did a good job of carrying sound, and indistinct male voices came from the other side of the canyon. Couldn’t tell how many men were talking, though.

  In the opposite direction, there was a fairly large light source in the distance. More light than one or two houses could produce. Some kind of warehouse or manufacturing plant?

  Interesting. No one had mentioned anything like that going up in the area. He brought out his small binoculars from a case clipped to his belt and scanned the area toward the light source, but it was hidden behind terrain. An examination of the land on other side of the canyon yielded at least four men on foot with flashlights in motion, and two on ATVs.

  These guys seemed to have a lot of money to invest in equipment.

  The sound of an ATV motor grew louder and louder. A single man with a rifle slung over his shoulder was heading straight for his position.

  Incapacitate the rider and grab the vehicle, or let the shmuck drive by?

  No one else was in the area. Could he hide the body and the vehicle from anyone else who might come along while he got Kini, or was this asking to get caught?

  Tempting. But Kini wasn’t up to a hard scramble up the cliff, and they’d be on the wrong side of the canyon. The nearest bridge was on the interstate, a site almost certainly under observation.

  There were even more men on the other side of the canyon.

  He let the ATV and its driver go on by while he observed the other side of the canyon more closely.

  There were men on dirt bikes now, at least three in addition to the ones he’d already seen. They appeared to be ramping up their search despite the darkness. He and Kini might have to hide for longer than he’d expected.

  The sound of more ATV engines grew closer and closer, coming from the direction of the light source. He hunkered down in the scrub, allowing his body to follow the ebb and flow of the vegetation around him. Two sets of headlights came to a stop about twenty feet away, close to the canyon’s edge. The riders shut their engines off and dismounted.

  “Why the fuck are we looking on this side of the canyon?” a man asked. “According to that idiot, Bruce, the woman’s injured. She’s not going to come this way. She’s going to try to get to town.”

  “He also said some huge Indian came out of nowhere, shot him, and blew up the meth lab.”

  “If there was a guy.” The second man grunted. “Bruce would blame his mother if he got caught crossing the street. He knows he fucked up.”

  “Or he could be that ex-soldier Blackwater told us about.”

  “Blackwater is full of shit on a good day, and this place is crawling with Indians. Blackwater is an Indian.”

  There was a pause. “Good riddance to the meth lab, I say. It was a hell of a risk setting that place up.”

  Whoever these men were, they’d never been in the military, never been deployed to a combat active area, or they wouldn’t be standing around, shooting the shit.

  “It takes money to build the shit these guys have put up. Plus, we’re expensive as hell.”

  “Robbing a bank would have been a lot easier, and less complicated.”

  “Probably too high profile.”

  “I don’t know, man, this shit is getting weirder every day.”

  “We’re being paid a fuckton of money, so I don’t care how weird shit gets. Another year working for these guys, and I can retire on a beach somewhere.”

  There was another long pause.

  “Where the fuck is the bitch?”

  “Gone to ground somewhere in the canyon is my bet. We’ll find her. Foreman said that if we don’t find her by daylight, he’ll bring in some dogs.”

  “If she gets away, gets to help, we’re going to be up shit creek.”

  “I guess we’d better find her then.”

  Footsteps, then two ATV engines roaring to life within a couple of seconds of each other. They drove off, following the edge of the canyon in opposite directions.

  What the hell was going on? Some kind of high-cost business using drugs as their funding source? If that wasn’t the craziest shit he’d ever heard, he didn’t know what was.

  Helicopters, armed men, and soon, dogs. He didn’t have much time to decide on a course of action that would get Kini somewhere safe. Or he could call for help and create a distraction that would keep these assholes busy until help arrived.

  The kiva would keep her out of sight—even if dogs tracked her into the gully, the entrance wasn’t noticeable unless you were right in front of it.

  What he really needed was a cell phone and an armored vehicle. He’d settle for a phone, but to get it, he’d have to go fishing.

  Smoke left the safety of the brush, pulled out his pocket flashlight, and began walking toward the large light source to the north, swinging his flashlight back and forth like in a deliberate search pattern. Just one of the boys.

  He crested a rise and finally got a good look at the place a small army of security people were trying to hide.

  Chain-link fencing topped with razor wire surrounded a large compound composed of one large building and several smaller ones. A number of jeeps and ATVs were parked on the side closest to him. Massive portable light poles stood at regular intervals providing enough light to eliminate anywhere for a person to hide, day or night. There were at least a dozen people visible inside the fence, all of them armed with rifles.

  Light flashed at the edge of Smoke’s vision, and he turned to see an ATV coming toward him.

  Good timing.

  He put his binoculars to his face for a better look at the compound as the ATV driver pulled up about ten feet behind him.

  “Put your hands on your head.”

  Sounded like a cop, but there was no way the guy behind him was one.

  “I thought I saw someone skulking around, heading for the fence,” Smoke said in an excited tone. “Come take a look.” He held out the binoculars blindly without turning his head or looking at the guy.

  Here, fishy, fishy, fishy.

  There was a pause then the man came abreast of him and put his hand on the binoculars.

  Smoke let go of them then drove his other hand into the man’s stomach, knocking the breath out of him. With him doubled over, it was easy to knee him in the face.

  The guy went down hard.

  Smoke searched the guy’s pockets and found a cell phone and a couple of zip ties, which he used to hogtie the guy. He tore off the sleeve of his captive’s shirt and stuffed it into his mouth.

  Smoke mounted the ATV and drove toward the compound. Once he was within about twenty feet, he turned and drove parallel to the fence, going all the way around the entire fenced compound.

  The main building had a logo and title painted on the east facing side of its wall: Dry Duck Jojoba and Medical Cannabidiol Farms. Beneath that was a sentence painted in red: No active THC marijuana on site. A pilot project of the State of Utah.

  The front gate faced east, toward the interstate, and had a big sign on it:

  No trespassing

  It was also locked and had a manned guard shack inside the fence next to the gate.

&
nbsp; No THC, huh?

  Smoke drove around until he was on the south side of the compound then headed toward the canyon as if he were one of the searchers. He stopped at the edge, shut off the ATV, and called River.

  “Yeah?” River’s voice sounded cautious, wary.

  “It’s Smoke.”

  “Where the fuck are you? Did you find Kini?” Relief filled River’s answer.

  “I found her at the Rogerson place along with a drug lab. See any smoke in the distance?”

  “Like I’ve been outside.”

  “It’s burning.”

  “Shit. What about Kini?”

  “I got her out, but we had to run, and my phone got smashed. There’s a canyon on the north side of the farm. We hid down there, but there’s at least a dozen guys, some on ATVs, and a helicopter looking for us. We need an extraction.”

  “The only support I’ve got is what I brought with me,” River said, sounding pissed off. “Fucking sheriff wouldn’t recognize a good idea if it arrived at the head of parade.”

  “I overheard some flunkies talking. Blackwater is in on it.”

  “In on it? The drug lab?”

  “Yeah, and whatever else is going on at a jojoba and government-sponsored Mary Jane farm north of the canyon. They’ve got the whole thing fenced off and surrounded by armed guards.”

  “So, you’re telling me we’ve got a burned-out drug lab, a dirty deputy, a militarized farm, and a viral outbreak?”

  Since the question was rhetorical Smoke didn’t bother to answer it.

  “Got any good news for me?” River asked after a few seconds.

  “I haven’t killed anyone yet.”

  “Nice. Asshole. Anyone in town you trust to back me up?”

  “My family.”

  “Stay in touch.” River hung up.

  Smoke looked at the phone then silenced the ringer and shoved it into a pocket. He got onto the ATV, started the engine, and drove east, away from the part of the canyon close to the gully hiding the kiva. He’d leave the ATV in a dip in the land or by a grouping of rocks then head for the kiva on foot.

  He was halfway up a rocky incline when something struck his leg like a hot poker fresh out of a fire. A second later, one of his back tires exploded and the ATV pitched to the right, bucked him off, and rolled on top of him.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Kini woke with a start, sitting up before freezing in place. A gunshot echoed outside the dimly lit room. The two glow sticks still shone, but their light was starting to fade.

  Another gunshot followed the first, then the distant sound of an engine…no, multiple engines…fading as they moved away. The searchers were out there and were shooting at something, or someone.

  The spot where Smoke had slept still held the impression of his body in the dirt, but when she put her hand on the soil, no heat remained. So, he’d left more than a few minutes ago. His backpack sat where he’d left it, but the piece of paper propped up against it was new.

  Stay inside until I get back.

  Gone to scout the way out.

  Won’t kill anyone.

  Smoke.

  She snorted. Most people would be slightly horrified to see the promise not to commit murder, but they didn’t know Smoke. Didn’t know what a huge concession that was. She’d learned nothing would stop him from doing whatever he thought had to be done.

  The gunshots that woke her nagged at her.

  How long had he been gone? He was an experienced tracker and soldier, probably knew more about sneaking around than any other twenty people. But what if he’d been caught, or shot?

  How long should she wait?

  Her watch said it was after one o’clock in the morning; she’d slept longer than she thought.

  The sound of more engines, not trucks or cars, more like motorcycles or dirt bikes. Multiple vehicles going in different directions.

  Something had stirred things up.

  She could imagine Smoke and all of his six-foot-three hotness stirring a lot of things up. But her going out there, when he’d asked her to wait, was stupid. So, she’d wait.

  She rested in Smoke’s spot and let sleep take her under.

  It felt like only five minutes had passed when she woke again. The two glow sticks had dimmed significantly but still emitted enough light to read her watch. Four thirty.

  Still no Smoke.

  Stomach sinking into the dirt beneath her, she stared at his backpack. He wouldn’t have left her to go get help, back to town, by himself. No, he wouldn’t have taken that chance. So, he was injured and couldn’t make it back to his hideout, or he’d been captured by whoever was searching for them. The thought settled over her like a wet blanket, uncomfortable and cold. She wasn’t leaving him for the buzzards to finish off.

  The backpack had two more bottles of water and several protein bars. She ate one and drank half a bottle of water then examined the rest of the contents. First aid kit, paracord, the knife he’d tried to give her earlier, matches in a waterproof container, a fishhook attached to a length of rolled-up fishing line, and an emergency blanket.

  Fishing gear…in the desert?

  Was there a super-secret fishing hole not on any map? Well, she’d ask him when she caught up to him. No other outcome was acceptable.

  Kini put everything away in the pack and had to hop to grab the edge of the structure and pull herself up, but managed, then wiggled her way out.

  Dawn wasn’t yet on the horizon, but she had no trouble making out the terrain. Nothing moved. Just because she couldn’t see any danger didn’t mean there wasn’t any. The air outside was cool, almost cold, and the only sounds she heard were the songs of insects. No barking dogs, no dirt bike or ATV engines, or human voices.

  After climbing down the dirt face of Smoke’s hideout, she moved on cautious feet to the exit of the gully. Still no hint of pursuit or search, yet the cold lump in the pit of her gut only got larger and heavier.

  Where were the men searching for her? And where was Smoke?

  She entered the canyon and headed in the direction of the washout—she’d decide her next move once she got that far. She tried to emulate the way Smoke walked, but found his silent, easy pace wasn’t easy to adopt.

  Probably making enough noise to alert the media.

  As she passed a large rock, a low, rough voice whispered her name.

  “Who’s there?”

  Smoke’s grandfather stepped away from the rock and toward her.

  “How do you do that?” she asked, mystified by what could only be family trait to hide in plain sight.

  “That?” he asked in a careful voice.

  “Are you chameleons or something?”

  His white teeth flashed a smile in the darkness, there and gone again. “Where’s Smoke?”

  “I don’t know.” That lump in her stomach expanded until she could barely breathe. “You haven’t seen him?”

  A shake of his head. “He called River a few hours ago, told him you were hiding in his little house, and asked for an extraction. No contact since.”

  A few hours ago, she’d heard shots. The ball of ice in her gut was so cold it burned.

  “No Smoke?” asked another voice from behind her.

  Whirling to confront this new evidence that she needed her hearing checked, she discovered Smoke’s father, Jim, standing not five feet away, a rifle in his hands.

  “How do you…all of you…sneak up on people like this?” she demanded in a croak.

  Why bother breathing at all? Every time she got over one shock, another showed up in time to knock the breath out of her again.

  “No,” Smoke’s grandfather said.

  She could see his father’s face harden with worry as he digested this news.

  “A few hours ago, several shots woke me,” she told them. “I could hear engines—ATV engines—and men shouting, but I’d made Smoke a promise not to leave his kiva until he got back.”

  “You think he was caught?” Jim sounded offende
d.

  “I think a bullet can change the dynamics of any situation. He’s not bulletproof.”

  “Who took him?” asked Smoke’s grandfather.

  “Where did they take him?” asked Jim.

  “Smoke said there was some kind of large light source north of the canyon. He went to scout it out, find a way for us to reach help without getting caught by whoever is chasing me.”

  “That’s the jojoba and marijuana farm,” Jim said. “Nathan’s been working there for the last six months.”

  When she stared at him in shock, he added, “The government set it up to produce oil without the THC in it.”

  “Why would anyone from a government-backed farm be involved with an illegal drug lab?” She couldn’t imagine a reason to explain the odd connections things seemed to have around here.

  “You heard shots?” Grandfather Smoke asked.

  “Yes, um, maybe four or five.”

  “There isn’t anything out here besides the farm,” Jim said.

  Grandfather Smoke nodded once. “We check there first.”

  “How will we do that?” Kini asked, looking from one man to the other. “Without getting caught by the men searching for me?”

  “I’ll go to the front door and ask for Nathan,” the older Smoke said. “You cut the fence and sneak in.”

  Jim shook his head. “No, we don’t have time for bullshit. I say we all go through the front door.”

  “But—” Kini began.

  “You’re right,” Grandpa Smoke said. “None of them city boys is going to expect any of us to be much of a threat.”

  Kini blinked. He was including her in that statement?

  “I’m a threat?” she asked, unable to keep the incredulous tone out of her voice.

  Both men snorted.

  “I’ve seen you in action,” Jim said. “When you get mad, no man’s balls are safe.”

  “Oh.” She hadn’t thought about her preference for going for the groin first as something other people might notice. Should she feel bad about that? “I’m still not sure we should just walk up to the front door.”