“We need to get help for these men.” Fiona tried to push past the man still holding her door. Her fear was replaced by concern for the wounded.
“We take care of our own.” The words were spoken with a faint accent, but the giant had definitely spoken English.
“Why didn’t you speak English before?” Fiona didn’t hide her exasperation. “They need hospitals and ambulances. Let me pass.”
The man looked at her for a few seconds before giving her a slight bow of his head. “It is dangerous. I cannot guarantee your protection.”
“Join the club.” Fiona sarcastic tone elicited a raised eyebrow from the giant.
Let him wonder. No one had been able to protect her. That’s why she was hiding in this remote area. She existed at the edge of life and society. That was better than the alternative, though.
“It is my sworn duty to protect.” The giant’s voice was emotionless. “I do not understand what you mean by club.”
Fiona frowned. Was he making fun of her? “You’re not sworn to do anything for me. I can take care of myself. I have medical training and can help. Let me go.”
He let go of the door so quickly that Fiona almost fell out of the truck. His hand steadied her and she did her best to ignore the jolt of electricity that seemed to leap between them. He was a man. No man could be trusted.
“Pardon, my lady.” The man stepped aside to let her pass.
“My name is Fiona.” Her words came out in a breathy whisper. The man was a throwback to a different century. No one was that formal anymore. “Where did you come from?”
“You wish me to call you by your name?”
“Of course. What is your name?”
“I am Ardal.” Again the man gave a slight bow of his head. “My men are at your service.”
“I don’t think they can serve anyone in their condition.” Fiona turned to the men gathered around her vehicle. “I can start taking some back to my house and from there we’ll call an ambulance.”
“Jehon, start loading the men onto this vehicle and see if you can make it run.” Ardal barked out the order. Immediately another large man jumped into her truck. Other men limped toward the rear and pulled themselves up as best they could.
“You can’t just take my truck.”
Fiona’s protest was ignored. Instead they walked past her with their eyes lowered. It was the strangest group of men she’d ever encountered. They treated her with deference, but still ignored her words. Fiona started to go to the vehicle, but Ardal touched her arm. Again the jolt of electricity shot through her. She inhaled sharply, but kept her face impassive.
“Jehon can make any machine sing for him. If you will tell him the direction of your house he can take these men there before coming back for the rest.
Fiona bit her lip. What choice did she have? She was outnumbered. Maybe it was best for her to stay and help the rest of the survivors. She nodded and pointed in the direction of her house before walking toward the wreckage.
“You do me honor by agreeing to my advice.” Ardal’s voice was a low whisper. “I thank you Fiona, as do my men.
“Are you soldiers?” That had to be the explanation for the uniform and air of command. Except this group of men weren’t like any military people Fiona had seen before.
“We are Hunters; elite warriors born and bred.” There was a note of pride in Ardal’s voice.
“Was it a secret mission, or will your people be sending out a search party?”
“What is the meaning of a search party?”
“You know, others sent to find you.”
Ardal shook his head. “We are the last. No one will look for us.”
“That’s sad.” Fiona’s voice faded away. She had reached the first of the wounded. It was a young man, perhaps in his early twenties. His body was ripped open in several spots with bits of metal mixed in with the carnage.
Fiona knelt and examined him with experienced fingers. The most serious injury was a knife-shaped piece of metal protruding from his left thigh. That would require surgery before it was removed. She daren’t risk taking it out now in case the man bled to death. Right now the metal was preventing anything serious from happening.
“This man needs immediate attention. We’ll pack something around the metal so that it doesn’t dislodge.”
Ardal grunted his agreement. “Firbin is tough.” He looked up at another man running toward him. “Get me a dressing.”
Within seconds the material arrived. Fiona went to pack the wound, but Ardal stopped her. He put the small device he had shoved in her face to Firbin’s leg and ran it over the skin. Then he gripped the metal and pulled it out. He was so quick that Fiona didn’t have a chance to stop him. There was no blood, though. The metal hadn’t been in a major artery. With a sigh of relief she sat back on her heels and watched Ardal’s expert hands wrap a cloth-like material around the wound. When he was done, he opened his eyes and gave Ardal a crooked smile.
“Many thanks.”
Ardal grabbed his hand. “Be strong. Remember you are a Hunter true and right.”
The man nodded and closed his eyes on a sigh. Despite the strangeness of the words they seemed to comfort the man. Fiona glanced at the giant beside her. His face showed no expression, but his eyes burned with unmistakeable pride. It was obvious he cared about this man and the others. He was a puzzle. He was unlike any man she had met before.
Ardal stood and offered his hand. She grabbed it and went onto the next man. There was no hope for him. There was a huge gash in his chest, the organs beneath exposed to the air. His heart was torn and was pumping blood out with each beat. His life force was fading. Ardal knelt beside him, clasped his hand and bent to whisper in his ear. Fiona couldn’t hear the words, but she noticed a strange peace come into the man before death claimed him.
“He died with honor.” Ardal’s voice was low, his head bent as a shiver seemed to pass through his body.
“How can there be honor in dying?” Fiona had seen enough death to know that most people welcomed it as a relief from pain, or were just too weary to fight any longer. Honor didn’t play a part of it.
“Honor is all a Hunter has.” Ardal stood. “Death is our reward, but to die fighting brings honor.”
“What century are you from?” Fiona had only heard words like this in historical fiction, never from a real person. “Were you fighting on the plane and that’s why it crashed?”
“We refused to be led to our death.”
Before Ardal could continue speaking another man rushed up to them. “The Captain lives.”
“Bring him to me.” Ardal was definitely in command. He straightened his shoulders and his mouth thinned with determination.
A slight man with brown hair was pushed toward them. Fiona gasped when she saw that he was walking with a limp. That didn’t seem to matter to the two men who were leading him. Then again they were also walking with difficulty and their wounds looked more serious. One of the men had a large gash to his forehead and blood was dripping down his face. The other’s arm was bent, which suggested it was broken, on top of several gashes. Overall the man they led seemed to have gotten off light.
“Captain, you have earned honor.” Ardal’s voice was low with the faint hint of sarcasm. “That is more than you deserve.”
“You were the ones who forced the ship down. If you had followed orders, none of this would have happened.” The Captain shook off the hands of the two men holding him. “Your death would have ensured peace. They will hunt you down until every last one of you is dead.”
“I think it is unlikely that the Holman will search for us. We are all dead to them.” Ardal’s tone was matter of fact, his features betraying no emotion.
“You killed all of my men.” The Captain pushed forward and jabbed Ardal in the chest. “You’re no better than animals.”
“Because I refused to let my men be killed without honor?” Ardal shook his head. “We had no choice but to fight you.”
“So you caused more loss. Hasn’t there been enough death on our planet?” The Captain turned and gestured to the carnage all around them. “Look what you have done. Instead of dying, you will have to live with being traitors.”
Fiona listened to this conversation with growing confusion. These men spoke in riddles. It sounded as if they had just come from a war, but that wasn’t possible. The Middle East was the nearest battlefield. These men didn’t look as if they came from there.
“Could one of you please explain where the hell you’re from?”
The Captain and Ardal both turned to look at her. The Captain’s eyes scanned her face and then perused her body with a lazy indolence that she had come to recognize. A shudder of revulsion skittered along her back. It was only then that she realized that Ardal and his men had not looked at her with lust.
“Ah, a beautiful mistress to greet us,” the Captain said in a low voice. “This does look promising.”
Fiona didn’t have a chance to reply before Ardal had grabbed the man by the neck and lifted him from the ground. “You will be respectful in a woman’s presence,” he ground out between clenched teeth. He gave him a shake and then threw the man to the ground.
“My pardon, Fiona. The Captain forgets the rules of the Sacred Code. His actions suggest that he never knew them.”
“You haven’t answered her question.” The Captain rubbed his neck and shook off the hands of the men trying to help him stand. “She has a right to know that you are traitors who have escaped from the Holman forces.”
Fiona frowned. “I’ve never heard of them. Is that a country in Africa?”
The Captain snorted. “Look closely at my ruined craft and you’ll see that it is beyond the technology of your people. We come from another planet.”
Chapter 3
Traitors.
Another planet.
The words kept repeating in Fiona’s head all that long night. When daylight had finally relieved the darkness, she had driven out to the far field where the crash had happened. What the night had hidden was now all too apparent. The Captain had not lied. The ruined hull of his craft was not a plane. It wasn’t even like any of the experimental crafts she had seen on television. This was a large rounded vessel made from some sort of metal that glinted with a silver shimmer.
“Aliens.”
Fiona whispered the word beneath her breath. Her mind shied away from such a thought. There was no such thing as aliens. Only crazy people believed in them. Insane headlines from some of the more disreputable magazines flashed through her head. It couldn’t be possible that those lunatics had been telling the truth.
And if aliens were real, why would they come to earth?
The Captain had said that they came here to die. But there had to be a zillion better places in the universe to die. Earth was just another planet in a long line of them. No, there had to be another explanation. Perhaps they had gone off course. There had been a fight after all. That could be the only explanation.
But these men looked human. They were tall, all of them over six feet. Ardal had to be six seven at the very least, but it wasn’t unheard of for men to be that tall. They seemed to have the same organs as humans. She’d helped with their medical care all last night. There were no visible differences. Perhaps at a cellular level there were variances, but nothing evident to the eye.
The only one that was different was the Captain. He was smaller, both in height and stature. He was probably no taller than five feet with a slight build. If he had muscles, they didn’t show under his clothing. The unusual thing about him was the shape and size of his eyes, nose, and mouth, and his lack of facial hair. His skin was smooth and without wrinkles. It was also a sickly pale color as if he had never seen the light of day.
Fiona heaved a sigh and walked back to her truck. There was no point in denying what had happened. A spacecraft had crashed in her back field. Her field was littered with debris and among the wreckage there were many more bodies. She had a houseful of male aliens. Most were wounded, but not severely. Ardal was already rounding up men to bury the dead. At least the evidence would be gone.
What was she thinking?
When had she accepted the impossible?
Sometime between last night and this morning her universe had been turned upside down. Thoughts of the men in black paying her a visit flittered through her mind. If the stories about aliens were true, then the rest of it must be true also. That meant a government cover-up of huge proportions. The only thing that was saving her from a full scale invasion of the military was the fact that she was in such a remote area. Perhaps no one had noticed a large alien spacecraft invading their airspace and crashing.
And pigs could fly.
Fear gripped her stomach. The problem of cleaning the devastation in her fields was the least of her worries. The publicity involved with an alien spacecraft in her back forty acres was something that she could do without. Her cover would be blown. David would find her all too soon, and then she’d be on the run again.
If he didn’t catch her first.
Fiona shivered and brought her clenched hand up to her chest. The last time he’d almost killed her. If she hadn’t pretended to be unconscious, he probably would have. She’d been lucky to escape. There was no way she was going to let it happen again. She had to protect her new identity and if necessary, she’d disappear again.
First she needed to take care of all the wounded aliens. Fiona shook her head and got into the truck. She had about one hundred and fifty men divided between her house and the barn. Most had injuries that needed attention, but Ardal had been serious when he’d said they look after their own. So far she’d only been allowed to do basic first-aid.
These men were more skilled than some surgeons Fiona had seen at the hospital that she’d interned at. They worked with swift, deft motions almost as if they knew intrinsically what the other man was feeling. They were like computers, moving quickly and without emotion. It was uncanny.
Fiona started the truck and smothered a yawn. She needed sleep. She put the truck in gear and headed back to the house. There was no point in delaying the inevitable. Somehow she needed a plan to deal with this situation and the possible consequences.
Confusion still reigned at the house. Men were everywhere. When she walked into the living room the men’s voices stopped, though. Those who could stand did so. A surge of embarrassment rushed through her. She had never been treated with gallantry before. She thought that had gone the way of the dodo.
“Finally.” The Captain’s voice broke the spell. “You’re a breath of fresh air. I’d never tire of looking at you, gorgeous.”
Ardal’s fist shot out and connected with Eamon’s jaw, sending the man back against the couch. “Silence. By Cygnus and Warrior, you will learn respect.”
Fiona cringed at the violence, but couldn’t prevent an upwelling of thankfulness. She hated the sexual innuendos that she’d endured since she’d turned sixteen. It was a relief to know that these men would not step over the line.
“I’ve been out at the field. It’s a bigger mess than I realized. I don’t know how we’re going to clean it up. The trees will take years to recover.”
“We will cover the damage.”
“How?” Fiona sank onto a kitchen chair. “You’d need big equipment to drag all the debris away.”
“We are many.” Ardal waved to his men. “We are used to cleaning up messes.”
“The men need time to heal.”
“There is no time.” Ardal put his hands on his hips. “We heal fast.”
“There’s another thing.” Fiona glanced back at the kitchen. It was a typically large farm kitchen, but she wasn’t a big eater. “I don’t have enough food for everyone. I’ll have to go into town for groceries.”
“We will find food.” Ardal nodded to three of his men who moved forward. “Do you have any weapons?”
“There’s a shotgun in the closet, but it’s locked.”
T
he men went for the gun and came back a few seconds later. “Can you work it?”
“It is primitive, but will be effective,” the man holding the gun answered. “We will be back shortly.”
“You’re going to kill breakfast?” Fiona shook her head. Why not? They seemed to take care of everything else. She was too tired to care. “I need to sleep.”
Anxiety and tiredness were catching up. She couldn’t think properly especially with so many men surrounding her. Usually it only took one man to send her body into full panic. Now she was on overload. The fact that these guys kept their distance was the only thing making it bearable.
“Which is your sleeping chamber?” Ardal held his hand out to her.
Now that daylight had come, she could see that his hair was a deep dark brown, almost black. It was only the odd highlight that kept it from being black. His skin was olive-toned and his eyes a dark obsidian. He wasn’t exactly a handsome man, but his air of command meant that he would never be overlooked in a crowd. Strangely enough, most of his men had almost the same dark appearance. The only one that was different was the pilot with his light brown hair.
Fiona took Ardal’s hand, suppressing a gasp at the now familiar jolt that ran through her body when he touched her. She pointed to the room farthest away. “I can sleep somewhere else, though. I don’t want to disturb those men. They need to recover. I just need to get my sleeping bag from the closet and then I’ll sleep in my truck.”
“No.” He motioned to a couple of men. Before she could stop him, her bedroom had been cleared.
“Sleep.” He led her to the room. “We need your truck to clean up the debris and bury our comrades. All will be taken care of by the time you waken.”
Fiona knew it was useless to argue with the man. No matter how much she wanted to help, last night he’d pushed her aside. His only explanation was that it was not the work a woman need do. Doubtless things were different where he came from, but surely women worked there. She was too tired to think about it. Instead she snuggled into her bed and fell asleep.
aHunter4Rescue (aHunter4Hire) Page 2
