"Mommy!" Lynette clutched her mother around the waist and buried her face against Valya's stomach as the woman toppled to the floor.
A cacophony of anxious voices flooded in from outside.
Chapter Thirteen
"Sam, get up!" Kelly tossed the crossbow to the ground then bent to grab Sam beneath the arms. "Can't you hear them? The sentries are coming."
"Lynette..." Sam slouched forward and made a feeble attempt to reach for his daughter. "Can't leave her here."
Of course he couldn't. And neither could Kelly. She ran to the girl, who clung urgently to her mother. Lynette's cotton nightgown was bloodstained from her mother's bitten arm. Kelly glanced at the injury and saw the deep puncture wounds that marked Valya's porcelain flesh. The arrow in the woman's shoulder wobbled in rhythm with her breathing.
Kelly reached for Lynette. "Let's go, honey."
"No!" Lynette swatted at Kelly's hands when she tried to pull her away. She hugged Valya tight, making her moan. "I won't go with you. Mommy needs me."
From outside the tent, the sound of running footsteps echoed in the distance.
Kelly sighed and made another vain attempt to grab Lynette. "You can't stay here. Come with us, and we'll send help for your mother."
Lynette lashed out, her tiny slippered feet kicking up sand. Valya flung her injured arm around her child, adding blooming red roses to the pink and yellow ones that covered Lynette's nightgown. The girl screamed at Kelly, "Stay away."
Kelly didn't know what to do. She glanced at Sam, whose eyes were glazed as he struggled to stand, but his right leg gave way beneath him, and he fell to his knees. Blood soaked through his jeans from hip to heel. "We can't leave Lynette here."
Kelly rushed to his side, her heart thrumming with adrenalin. If she didn't get him medical attention soon, he could bleed to death. "We'll get the police."
He shook his head. "You should have gone ahead like I told you to. Now it's too late."
She refused to believe that. They'd come this far, and she wasn't about to give up now. There was still a chance to ruin Star Mother's suicide plan, but not if they hung around here.
Ignoring his protests, she slid her hands beneath his armpits and tugged him to the rear of the tent. Cody bounded outside ahead of them. Sam didn't fight her, but he didn't help much, either.
Before pulling him out the tent exit, she shot one last look at Lynette, who cradled Valya's head in her lap. The girl didn't glance up but remained focused on her mother, who didn't move. Kelly knew the woman's wounds weren't fatal, but shock had obviously immobilized her.
"I'll be back, Lynette," she said. "I promise."
The child ignored her.
As pig-headed as her old man, Kelly thought, and dragged Sam outside. With grunts of effort, she managed to get him to his feet, slinging one of his arms across her shoulders to support his weight. Damn, he was heavy.
"It's not that bad."
Prompting him toward the Jeep, she asked, "Have you ever been shot before?"
"No."
"Then how would you know?"
He ignored her question and asked one of his own. "Where's Lynette?"
"I'll get her." Damn it. She'd have to try again to convince the kid to leave. If she didn't, Sam would. She guided him to the passenger seat. "No macho heroics, you hear me? I'll do it. Now stay."
Halfway back to the tent to retrieve Lynette, Kelly heard a sudden tumult of voices from inside. It was too late. She spun around and raced back to Sam. Before hopping in behind the wheel, a quick glance in the backseat confirmed Jake hadn't budged. She suddenly realized she was the only whole person left in their little entourage, and it was up to her to keep them all safe. They'd find a way to come back for Lynette. They had to. Kelly could never live with herself if she didn't.
She stomped her foot on the clutch, twisted the key, and gunned the engine. Tires spun, spewing plumes of desert sand, and the Jeep leapt forward. Despite the enraged shouts rising behind them, Kelly checked both rear and sideview mirrors. Her lips quirked in a sardonic grin as she watched white-robed sentries scramble for the old jalopies sprinkled throughout the camp. Good job, Sam. Every tire in camp was flat as week-old road kill.
****
Kelly had no idea where she was going. She drove at a lethal speed for the terrain they traveled, and though she tried to stay on the smoothest section of desert, poor Sam groaned at each and every bump. "Sorry," she said, over and over again, as the Jeep's tires bounced across uneven land.
Cody yelped more than once. This made her wonder if the coyote hadn't been wounded in his scuffle with Valya. She'd fought him like a tiger.
Staying away from established roads and not wanting to create any kind of path that could be followed, Kelly drove in willy-nilly patterns for about fifteen minutes. Though Star Mother's sentries didn't have any drivable vehicles, there was a remote chance Sam had missed one. It was possible. And it worried her enough not to take any chances. Seeing they hadn't been tailed, she slowed down.
"Where'd you learn to drive?" Sam asked, his voice gruff. "Wile E. Coyote's Acme School of Wrecks-Waiting-To-Happen?"
She took heart that he still had a sense of humor. "I'm a graduate of the Triple A driving school. Got my certificate to prove it."
He gave a derisive snort. After a moment's pause, he said, "Lynette? You okay, sweetheart?"
Ice gripped Kelly's heart.
"Lynette?" He started to turn his head. "Answer me, honey."
"She can't," Kelly said. "She's not here."
"What?"
Kelly swallowed. "I went back for her, but the nursery tent was full of sentries. I had to get us out of there before—"
Sam reached over as if to take the wheel. "Turn around."
"No." She pushed at his hand, and it dropped limply to his lap. "We'll go back, I promise, but we need reinforcements, and you need a doctor." She shot him a look, expecting a rebuttal, but he only stared straight ahead at the desolate predawn landscape, his gray eyes dull and lifeless. "Hang in there, okay, Sam? We'll figure something out."
He nodded, but Kelly couldn't be sure he acknowledged what she'd said. He was going through the motions, his heart a shattered shell. He'd unwillingly given up his mother to this damn cult five years ago, and now he was forced to give up his child, too? It was more than any man should have to take.
She gave him a hard look, noticing the deep furrow between his eyes. That's when she realized he was not brooding. He was scheming. "You're up to something."
He shrugged. "You said to figure something out, so that's what I'm doing. I'm used to planning things on my own."
"Care to let me in on it?"
"I don't know." He turned to face her, a grimace distorting his cocky expression. "Maybe."
Heat rose to her cheeks. He didn't think she could do whatever needed doing. "Don't forget who pulled your ass out of the fire back there. I'm tougher than you think."
He shrugged.
"I can handle anything you or those stargazing freaks throw at me. I've been through hell already, and they're going to pay for what they've done to my brother. And to me." She glared at him before returning her attention to the road.
Shaking his head, Sam said, "Nothing stops you. Which is why I'm confident we'll get Lynette away before it's too late." He smiled grimly and patted her thigh. "We'll do it together."
Blood warmed her cheeks again, but it wasn't anger this time. He believed in her. And it was about damn time, too. "Thank you, Sam. That means a lot. I won't let you down."
A burst of steam hissed from beneath the Jeep's hood.
"Damn." Sam hit the dashboard with his fist. "Not now."
The engine sputtered. "What's going on?"
"Radiator," he said. "The hose tore on my way here. I'd hoped the tape I used to fix it would hold. Guess I was wrong."
Just what they needed. "Now what?"
"Don't stop."
A red light on the dashboard flashed, and the steam comin
g from beneath the hood was like fog, making it difficult to see. "Sam, I can't see where I'm going."
"We've gotta get to the highway where we can flag down help."
The engine made a choking sound, and the Jeep decelerated on its own. "We won't make it."
"Okay. Never mind. I have an alternate plan."
She stopped the Jeep and cut the engine.
He turned as if to get out, then appeared to think better of it when he tried to move his leg. "I brought along a couple of jugs of water from the gas station, just in case. They're in the back."
She scowled at him. He looked pale, and the bluish skin beneath his eyes emphasized how bloodshot they were. "How's the leg?"
He winced as he peered down at his blood-stiffened jeans. "I can see where the bullet nicked my thigh and it bled a lot, but it's stopped now. Hurts like hell, though."
"I bet." She forced out a relieved breath. At least she didn't have to worry about him bleeding to death, though he could still use a doctor. "Do you have a first aid kit?"
He nodded, sweat sparkling on his forehead.
Kelly checked on her brother, who was still unconscious and sweating more than ever, and no wonder. The sun had begun to rise, and waves of weak morning light bathed the desert floor in elongated streaks of amber and burnt orange. It wasn't unbearably hot yet, but it would be as the morning wore on.
When Kelly reached the back of the Jeep, she found Cody eagerly lapping at a widening pool of liquid on the floor. Two plastic gallon jugs lay toppled on their sides, each with gaping holes on the bottom. Sam's toolbox had tipped over, and a clawed hammer had drilled one of the jugs. The sharp end of a tire iron gouged the other.
"Is there a problem?" Sam asked.
She held up the empty jugs.
He smacked the dashboard again. "Un-freaking-believable."
She coaxed Cody out of the Jeep and used a scrap of towel she'd found to sop up what remained of the spilled water. "Is there a container I can wring this water into?"
"There should be a couple of empty liter pop bottles back there. I keep some with me in case I ever need to make a solar still."
His resourcefulness was impressive. "We ought to make one now."
"Can't. Takes too long to collect enough water for what we need. We'll get it some other way."
She wrung out the towel into one bottle but filled it with little more than an inch of water. It wasn't enough, but it was a start. She snatched up the first aid kit and headed for the front of the Jeep.
"Drop your pants," she said, and he responded with a tilt of his chin. The look that passed between them held a spark of the passion they'd shared yesterday. But the spark winked out as quickly as it came. If this had been another time, another place, another reality…
Sam lifted his butt from the seat then instantly dropped back down. "Can't do it."
"It's okay," she whispered, staring at the stiff stain that blackened the length of his jeans. The wound was already starting to scab, but it was still oozing and needed to be cleaned and bandaged before it got infected. "Have a pocketknife?"
"In the glove compartment."
While retrieving the knife she found a roll of mints beside a cell phone. "Look what I found." The cavalry was just a phone call away. She popped a mint in her sour-tasting mouth and passed the roll to Sam. "We'll call for help."
"I tried it yesterday. Can't get service out here."
Sighing, she tossed the phone back in the glove box. She flipped open the pocketknife and, starting at the hem, sliced his jeans open along the seam. Every few inches she spread the material aside to ease it from his skin. The hairs on his legs were thick and soft and dark as the scrub of stubble on his unshaven face. As she slowly made her way up his thigh, his rigid muscles flexed at her touch.
She stole a look at his eyes, which smoldered with an emotion she couldn't name. He wore his mask again. It wasn't hard to understand why he had perfected this ability to protect himself, to protect his heart from the cruel cult that wouldn't hesitate to crush it. She just wished he didn't feel a need to protect it from her.
"There." His right pant leg looked like one half of a slitted skirt. She'd sliced through a few inches of his boxers, too. "Very fashionable."
He smiled. "I'm thinking of having all my jeans cut this way."
She grinned at his joke and tore open a packet from the kit. "I have to clean the wound now. It's going to sting a little. You ready?"
"Can't you just use water?"
"We don't have any water. At least none that doesn't have coyote slobber in it."
He nodded and blinked his red-rimmed eyes. The frown smoothed from his forehead, and he appeared to steel himself for what was to come. It seemed that getting shot wasn't that big of a deal, but having his wound doctored was different. He probably hated needles, too.
After a long pause he said, "I'm ready. Go for it."
****
"You're such a baby," Kelly said.
"Hey, you weren't the one getting your raw flesh singed with alcohol." Sam passed a hand across his forehead to keep the sweat from dripping in his eyes. His thigh throbbed, and he blinked against the stinging residue of the alcohol wipe. "I only yelled once."
She rolled her eyes.
"Okay, twice. Big deal." He watched her unwind a roll of gauze and fold a strip of it into a neat little pillow. "Kelly, when I feel something, I have to express it. That's how I am."
She snorted and gave him a dubious look. "Who are you kidding?"
"Okay, so I'm not too good at expressing my emotions, but I'm very vocal when it comes to physical stuff."
They exchanged a meaningful glance then both diverted their attention to something other than each other. While in the throes of passion yesterday, he'd been especially vocal. Twice.
Her soft fingers lingered against his thigh as she pressed the bandage into place. "All done."
"Thanks."
"Can you stand?"
He flexed his leg, which felt stiff but didn't hurt as much now. He pushed forward in the seat and carefully swung his leg out the open door. His left leg touched the ground, and he stood, putting experimental pressure on his right. "Crutches sure would come in handy right now."
Kelly gazed past him over his shoulder, and he turned to see what she saw. An enormous tree stood about fifty yards from where they were parked. She trotted to tree, and after a few minutes of scrounging around the base, she lifted a long branch and held it high above her head.
"Perfect," Sam muttered to himself. What a woman. When she jogged back, her full breasts jostled beneath the loose shirt, and he smiled.
"As much as I enjoy seeing you run," he said, accepting the forked branch she handed to him, "you need to conserve your energy. And you should breath through your nose—"
"To conserve moisture. Yeah, I know. Like I told you before, I run through the desert in Arizona all the time."
"Then you know how important it is not to get dehydrated."
She placed her hands on her hips and leveled him with a smirk.
"You found water?"
"Yup." She pointed back at the tree. "There's a dry creek bed that trails into the head of a shallow canyon. There's a lot of bushes there, almost like a small oasis."
"That means water." He chucked her lightly on the chin and was reluctant to bring his hand away. "I'm lucky to have you along."
She grinned, a light blush adding color her tanned cheeks. "We make a pretty good team."
A groan came from inside the Jeep.
"Jake." Kelly climbed into the back.
Sam tested his new crutch by limping up behind her. "Is he all right?"
"I don't know." Concern deepened her voice. "He's really sweating now." She pulled back the moth-eaten blanket covering him from neck to toe. "I guess keeping him cool is all we can do until I get us that water."
Sam thought it should be him trekking for water, but the condition of his leg made that impossible. He leaned into the Jeep and studi
ed Jake's shivering body, noticing the dry, pale lips, the blotchy skin, runny nose. The severity of his withdrawals hadn't peaked, and it would be at least twenty-four hours before the worst of it was over. He touched Jake's hands—cold and clammy. "I've dealt with this before. Several of my ex-cultist patients suffered drug withdrawal."
Jake moaned again then mumbled, "Kelly?"
"I'm here, Jake." She smoothed her hand across his forehead.
"I'm so thirsty. And I ache all over."
"How can we help him?" she asked Sam.
"Make him as comfortable as possible. Valium would help ease his symptoms, but I'm afraid we're fresh out." He wrapped his fingers around Jake's wrist to count his pulse, which was steady but fast. "Were you able to salvage some of the spilled water?"
She retrieved a mostly empty pop bottle from the back of the Jeep. "Not much, and it's kind of slimy from Cody."
"It'll do." He laid a damp towel across Jake's forehead and dribbled a few drops of water into the boy's mouth.
Sam checked his watch. It was after seven in the morning, leaving them less than three hours until Star Mother's suicide plan went into effect. Ten o'clock was the cult's holy hour, their time of worship, both day and night, and their time of ritual when it came to punishment or reward. He knew they must be preparing for their trip, celebrating their good fortune as the fantasy starship came ever closer. His heart sank at the thought that his little girl could be lost to him forever. No. He wouldn't let that happen.
"We're running out of time," he told Kelly.
She grabbed the bottle from him. "Will this hold enough?"
"Better take both bottles." Leaning on his crutch, he limped to the front of the Jeep and lifted the hood. The radiator was still hot, so he wadded up his jacket and used it to twist off the cap. The radiator wasn't completely empty, but almost. He checked his tape job on the hose. It hadn't held. Probably Kelly's wild driving had jiggled it loose. Once he had the hose retaped and added water to the radiator, the engine should run for at least a few more miles.
"Kelly, how far we are from Star Mother's camp?"
Desert Guardian Page 19
