While You Were Dead

by CJ Snyder

  Crater, finished with the deception of friendly team banter, ignored Max. Well-trained and fully armed, he slung his rifle over his shoulder, extricated a knife from a pouch at his waist and sliced through the duct tape holding Kat to the chair. Her arms fell limp toward the floor, her knuckles brushing the dirty carpet. Max’s heart sank. Kat couldn’t help him. Worse, if he didn’t take care of Viper soon, he was afraid he couldn’t help her.

  ##

  Kat felt her arms fall to her sides and wondered whether it was worth the effort to lift them. Vic-that-wasn’t-Vic continued to bait Max, but once he’d started sticking her with the knife, she’d retreated. It was either that or scream. Max hadn’t said a word to her in ages, but his eyes had been full of silent entreaties, commands and. . .pain. So much pain. Somehow, she’d become Vic’s weapon against Max. She could bear almost anything, but not that. Besides, it was hard to hear now. If she opened her eyes, she just knew it would hurt. Maybe too much. Maybe she wouldn’t be able to hold still, to stop the screams still lodged in her lungs, waiting for permission to burst free.

  The last time she’d opened her eyes, she’d been able to see Max, but only distantly. Too much thick haze filled the room. The only one she’d been able to see clearly was Vic. He was still using her as a pincushion. Better just to retreat into the easy darkness where it didn’t hurt. Where Vic couldn’t use her as an accessory.

  Her legs were free now, too. Was it over? No. Vic’s hands were still on her cheeks, deceptively soft. Now, too late, she could feel the calluses, so like the ones Max had on his palms. From warfare, she knew now. Also too late, she knew it didn’t matter who Max was, what he’d done. The man she loved was a sniper. He was still the man she loved, would always love. Her love for Max was the only thing Vic had understood.

  No. That was wrong. Not the only thing. He also knew the one thing they both cared about more than their own lives. Lizzie. Max had come for her and Lizzie was alone. Kat shoved at the barrier of darkness. She couldn’t go. Not until Lizzie was safe.

  Her struggle seemed to take forever, but finally she could hear. Vic, no, not Vic. Vic didn’t exist. Viper. She felt the blade, too, but not the pain. Amazing she’d lived with the man for a year and never known how cruel he could be–that he enjoyed being cruel. Annoyed by her flighty thoughts, she shoved them away and concentrated. She thought, if she tried, she could open her eyes, but she wouldn’t. Not until she heard Max.

  Viper was giving orders. A blanket for transport. Cap was to report as soon as he arrived. Cap, the boy who changed her oil. No, that wasn’t right. Cap changed Lizzie’s dressing, before the fire, before the burn on her arm, before Max had come, before Vic-Viper had hurt. . .Viper had sent Cap after Lizzie!

  Her hearing sharpened. She could hear Viper breathing, right behind her. Could feel. . .oh, she could feel, and it hurt! She groaned, fighting the urge to retreat again. Not until Lizzie was safe. Her arms were free. Her legs were free. Could she move? Should she?

  No. Not until his hands weren’t poised to snap her neck in two.

  Where was Max?

  “She’s dying, Viper!” There he was. Still to her left. Closer than she thought. He sounded awful. His wonderful voice sounded. . .tormented. Who was dying?

  “Ahhh, but she’s not dead yet. See? Still bleeding. We talked about that one night, remember? The human body, so fragile, so easily, fatally damaged, and yet so strong, so resilient. One dose of an anticoagulant and the body is fooled. The blood doesn’t clot. The heart doesn’t stop pumping. She’s not dead, Ice. Not yet. There’s still time.” He ran one thumb down the angry burn on her arm. Kat couldn’t stop a groan. The pain was too much and she was so tired of fighting. Lizzie. She had to remember Lizzie. Make sure she was safe.

  “I’ll need your clothes, Ice. This,” Kat heard a faint hum of electricity in her right ear, “works so much better on bare skin.” Kat felt her head lifted, propped against Viper’s rock-hard abdomen, felt his chuckle. “I was going to offer you a demonstration, but poor Kat seems almost beyond use now.”

  Poor Kat, hell! She almost got her eyes to open, then remembered she didn’t want to do that. Not yet. Did Max think she was the one dying? Was that the reason for the agony she’d heard in his voice?

  Glad Viper didn’t have access to a heart monitor, Kat raced through courses of action. Anything involving movement would give her away to Viper and he was still too close. She visualized the room. Viper behind her. Max to her left, nearly close enough to touch, she realized as she felt the whisper of his clothing as he removed it. But she couldn’t touch him. Viper would see.

  Viper stabbed the knife into her skin again. Her right arm. Her left arm, hanging limp at her side, almost twitched in a reaction meant to swat Viper away. Almost. Could Viper see her left arm? Her fingers? She didn’t think so. If she could get Max to look. . ..

  She waited for Viper to use the blade once more. If he didn’t, she’d have to think of another way, but–

  Kat didn’t have to think of another way. When the blade pricked her right upper arm, she groaned again. Her right hand lifted, drawing Viper’s hand down to it to hold it still. Praying she had Max’s attention, she mimicked her daughter and drew her left thumb and forefinger into a circle before allowing them to drift apart again.

  Had he seen?

  His voice sounded before she’d even finished her demonstration. “How about we go outside, Viper?”

  Max stepped closer. She knew because Viper’s hands tensed around her face.

  “Just the two of us. Walk out of here together.”

  He’d seen! He wasn’t talking to Viper; his message was for her. A boot descended over her hand as she felt the brush of a flannel shirt against her arm, blocking the floor from Viper’s gaze. Under Max’s boot, loaded securely up inside the tread was a thin shaft of metal. A knife. Long and slim. Kat scrambled, fingers working desperately to free the weapon while she strove to keep her upper arm still.

  “How about you drop the shirt and I won’t break her neck?”

  The shirt floated to the floor, covering her entire lower arm. Kat almost smiled. She tucked his present up under the band of her wristwatch, slicing her wrist with the sharp blade. One strike. Viper wouldn’t give her a second chance. She wouldn’t need one. All those hours of med school were about to pay off.

  Seconds seemed be hours while she waited. Max continued to undress, his movements maddeningly slow now that she wanted speed.

  “Now the tape. Ribs a little sore?”

  “Who drove the truck?”

  “Our very own Snitch. I believe you know him better as Mitch. He had Campbell’s file, you know. Penny Jessup must have managed to drop it off at his apartment before she died. I didn’t find out about him until he went to see Ellen.”

  Kat wanted to wince as she heard the tape pull away from Max’s skin, remembering the bruises underneath.

  “Eyes and ears of the world,” Max grated out.

  “That’s me.” Even though it was Viper’s voice, not Vic’s, she recognized the grin.

  “Did you kill him or turn him?”

  Turned him, Kat thought angrily, remembering the smug smile under his “pretty” eyes.

  “Both.” Viper sounded equally smug. “They’ll find his body, along with yours and hers. If there’s anything left once Crater is through.”

  “Clever.”

  Max was still stalling, but why? He had to know she was ready. Did he want her to make her move now? With Viper’s fingers still absently stroking her cheek? She could feel Viper’s shrug, but his hands never strayed far enough away to give her an opening, and she knew all too well how fast he could move.

  Could she move faster? Fast enough to get the job done before those hands twisted her life to an end? Is that what Max wanted? Under the cover of Max’s flannel shirt, she eased the weapon back into her palm. The knife was long and thin. Was she strong enough? One strike. Where?

  As if it waited for her summons, the scene
unfolded in front of her closed eyes. A deserted field. Max with his rifle. Her own words. Personally, I think I’d rather have a knife. One strike , if you know where to put it.

  Her fingers curled tight around the knife handle. She knew exactly where to put it.

  “Let’s get it over, then.” Finally! Had he been waiting for her? She felt Max kneel at her feet, pull them out straight. His hands circled her ankles and squeezed. “You want her on the blanket?”

  “I want you away from her. Now.”

  Too late. Max tugged on her ankles, freeing her hand from the shirt, drawing her body down the seat, her head out of Viper’s hands, giving her the angle she needed to lift her wrist over her head and plunge the knife up through Viper’s rib cage, straight into his black heart.

  Viper stood stunned for a second that lasted too long. Kat, eyes open, head resting on the seat of the chair, stared up at him. Finally he lurched back, into the wall.

  Max yanked her to her feet. Kat twisted and stared in horror, paralyzed by the sight of the slow crawl of blood staining his chest, by the look of disbelief frozen on his face. Max tried to turn her, but she couldn’t look away, couldn’t stop a powerful blast of anger so intense she wanted another knife. He’d killed her father. Framed her mother. She wouldn’t even think of Lizzie. No, a knife wasn’t enough. Max was right. A gun. She wanted, needed a gun.

  Max had no such compulsion. One hand firm on Viper’s head, he shoved. Viper crumpled into the corner, but not before Max had relieved him of the taser, a radio and a handgun. Without wasting a single motion, he scooped up a blanket waiting on the floor and wrapped it around her shoulders, effectively immobilizing her arms–and any struggles–as he gathered the blanket in one hand and hauled her forward.

  The sudden motion sent waves of queasy panic through her. All of her attention went toward squashing it and when she had, they were at the back door.

  “Look at me.” Max glanced through the diamond-shaped windowpanes in the door, then whirled to face her. “Look at me,” he demanded again, this time giving her his attention.

  Kat smiled. She couldn’t do anything but look at him, into those eyes she loved so very much.

  “You did it, baby. Now you’ve got to run. Lizzie followed the map you two made–you do the same and you’ll find her.” His voice was the quietest whisper she’d ever heard.

  Run? Run where? She stared at him. He had blood on his chin. She reached to touch it. “Are you hurt?”

  He shook his head. Just once. “Shhhh.”

  He seemed agitated, his gaze travelling between the little windows in the door and her. “You’re naked,” she announced finally. Maybe he was cold. She was cold.

  “Yeah, I am.” Max glanced back over his shoulder and grinned, even though it didn’t erase the worry in his eyes. He gave her a wink and looked back out the window.

  “Do you want the blanket?”

  “Shhhh,” he whispered, propelling her forward toward the door. “See that wall?”

  Kat nodded, but didn’t look. He was naked and didn’t want the blanket? Why didn’t he want the blanket?

  “Kat!”

  She met his gaze, but he seemed to float in front of her. Kat backed up into the wall and Max steadied. Better. She was so dizzy! In his eyes she saw love and. . .pity? What was wrong?

  “Do you see the wall?”

  He had to be cold with nothing on. Why was he naked? His chest was gorgeous, so strong. She loved to lay her head there–just over his heart. She needed to touch him. “It’s cold, Max. And you’re–“

  ”I know, baby. I know.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead, but not before she’d seen his eyes close in frustrated despair for just a split second. Something was wrong. Very wrong. He glanced back out the tiny window, then toward the front of the house.

  Was he looking for someone? “Are you–”

  “Quiet, Kat!” Still that whisper that really wasn’t. This time he glanced at her. Then he swore, quiet and soft, but with certain vehemence. His movements were rushed, his expression frustrated. Why was he naked?

  It had to be the cold upsetting him. She was cold. So cold she was beginning to shake. “You should have the blanket. I’ll be okay, really I will.”

  “I know you will.“ He tipped her chin up and scanned her eyes, apparently not liking what he saw, because he scowled. “Can you run, baby? Can you make it over the wall? Get to Lizzie?”

  The words whipped past her ears, but got tangled on the way to her brain. Kat closed her eyes to try and sort them out.

  “Son of a bitch!” His curse wasn’t loud, but it was certainly violent.

  Kat jumped and opened her eyes. Max pulled her close, tucking her into the crook of his arm. Kat snuggled against his neck. That was better. Much better. She opened her mouth to tell him so.

  “Katherine.”

  That got her attention.

  He nudged her head off his shoulder and met her eyes. “Listening?”

  Silly question. Of course she was listening. She nodded dutifully.

  “You’ve got to run, baby. Get to Lizzie.”

  Yes, they had to get to Lizzie. She gave another obedient nod and put her head back on his shoulder. It was warmer here, next to him. The warmth didn’t help her shivering, or the exhaustion that pulled her eyelids shut, but just to stand next to him was heavenly.

  “I’ve got to stay, Kat. I’ve got to take care of Crater. And Tron.”

  A violent shudder chattered her teeth, even as she tried to nod. Max swore again and wrapped his arms around her tight. She felt his cheek on the top of her head for just an instant and smiled. “You feel so good,” she whispered.

  “I love you, too.” He sighed. “New plan. We’ll go together.”

  “Of course.” How else would they go?

  “See the wall?”

  “It goes all the way around.” If she could just sleep for awhile, everything would be much, much easier.

  Max gave a single nod. “Exactly. You ready?”

  “For what?” Max gave a groan and kissed her forehead again.

  Then it appeared it didn’t matter if she was ready or not. With his hands still clutching the blanket, he hauled her out the door and raced across the yard, moving much faster than any human should. When she stumbled, he picked her up like a sack of potatoes and tossed her over his shoulder. Kat saw a blur of grass, weeds, a tree and then the sky as he literally dumped her over the wall. He landed beside her seconds later, still holding on to the blanket around her. He hadn’t let her fall, but the earth hadn’t yet stopped swaying. She tried to tell him, that she was queasy, and dizzy, but he didn’t stop, didn’t seem to want to listen. He shoved something into the back of her waistband, clipped something to her front pocket and hoisted her over his shoulder with a grunt. His ribs! He shouldn’t be carrying her.

  “I can walk,” she murmured, but wondered if it were true. She could sleep, no denying the truth of that.

  Max hadn’t heard. Below her, the ground moved by in a giant sliding blur, disrupted by his shoulder jarring her ribs. A blur. A soft thud. Kat stared, fascinated by the view, irritated at Max because he wasn’t listening. Annoyed at herself too, because of the haze surrounding her brain. There were things she had to tell him–things he needed to know before they left that horrible little house. Dangerous things. Only she couldn’t remember what. Or why he was carrying her, running with her. His heels flashed, forward, back, forward, back. Such strong muscles. She opened one hand, wanting to feel the bunch and stretch displayed in front of her. Her fingers crept down his back, toward his waist, curled over –

  So much blood! It ran in little streams, dissecting her arm, tunneling over her wrist, flowing down her fingers, to drip off her fingertips. For just a moment, she watched.

  Then she remembered.

  Kat balled both hands into fists, planted them in the middle of Max’s back and pushed up. Max swore and ducked behind a tree, but he did ease her to her feet. She could barely feel them,
barely feel anything, not even the gentle hand he used to push her hair out of her eyes, or the fingers that lifted her face up to his.

  “I’m bleeding.” She had no trouble keeping her voice a whisper now. She swayed and caught his arm so she wouldn’t fall. “It isn’t going to stop. They–he–a needle.” Focus! She had to tell him. He had to get to Lizzie.

  Max took one look at her pale face and caught her close before she fell. She’d stopped him just seconds before he would have had to stop anyway. He was breathing much too hard, and his ribs screamed, weakening already strained muscles.

  He groaned, and sidestepped the despair trying to wrap him up tight. He couldn’t carry her to the car. She couldn’t walk on her own. The radio at her belt was still silent, but Crater and the youngster wouldn’t stand outside that little house waiting for orders forever. Not when Viper had already told them to prepare for transport.