by Angie Fox
“I think I’ve found my dream man.”
“Speaking of which,” he said, easing another load inside, “how’s Galen?”
My heart twisted. “Gone.”
“Aw, geez.” He set his boxes down on the floor.
Rodger had lived through the first set of prophecies with me. So far, I’d managed to avoid telling my closest friend I could see the dead. For all he knew, my involvement was a freak accident. It sure felt that way sometimes.
“It gets worse.” I told Rodger what had happened with Galen.
He planted himself on the edge of his cot, elbows on his knees. “But why?” he asked, just like I had. “Why wouldn’t he let you in on this?”
I shrugged. I’d run the question over in my mind so much I was exhausted with it. “And in case you thought my love life wasn’t screwed up enough—” I sighed, hardly believing it “—Marc’s back.”
His brows shot up. “No way.”
I dug my hands through my hair, as if that would help me make sense of it. “He’s still on the other side. But that didn’t keep him from tracking me down. In our camp.”
Rodger’s eyes bugged out.
“He thinks one of our old professors got caught up in something dangerous. He wants me to take a look.”
“You?” my roommate repeated as the absurdity of it sank in. I knew the feeling.
My head hurt thinking about it. “He said they were working on a medicine, but with the prophecy talking about a weapon, and seeing as how we never luck out when it comes to these things…”
“That’s nuts,” said Rodger, openly staring at me.
“I know.” I hated to assume the worst, but—
“You’ve got to do it.”
“Excuse me?”
Me saying I was going to do it and Rodger saying it were two different things. I found myself resisting, even though I knew I didn’t have much of a choice.
“Have you even been outside camp?” I asked him. I’d bet anything he’d just gone through a portal to go back to the UK.
Rodger leaned back on his elbows. “I went out once, about two years ago. Remember that case at the medevac?”
Now that he mentioned it, yes. “Still, that was you, two other docs, and the MPs. This is me taking off across the desert toward the Great Divide. Even if I can figure out how to cross the lines, I’ll be sneaking into an enemy unit, spying on their new technology. Is any of this scaring you yet?”
“Of course,” he said.
This wasn’t a Star Trek episode, for heaven’s sake. “I could be executed.”
“Or worse,” he said solemnly.
Still, I couldn’t get the second half of the prophecy out of my head. A horrible new weapon is born.
There was no way to know what it was. Unless, maybe, if I went and took a look at this thing…
“You want me to go with you?” Rodger asked.
“No,” I said quickly. There was no way I’d let anyone except Marc see me talk to the dead doctor. Besides, I didn’t want to be responsible for Rodger’s life, especially when he had a family to think about.
“Good,” he said, “because I’d probably wet my pants halfway to the Great Divide.”
I buried my head in my hands. “I’m in too deep.”
“What else is new?”
I looked at him. “I’d miss at least two shifts at the hospital.”
“Not if I cover for you. I’ll take your schedule. Heck, I owe it to you anyway.” The cot dipped as he sat next to me. “I checked on the way in. I’m not even on this week’s docket.”
It could work, but… “What if someone comes looking for me?”
He thought for a moment. “I’ll diagnose you with a nasty case of the imp flu. Nobody will want to come near this place for a week. We may even get to fumigate my footlocker.”
It could use it.
I stared at the red dirt floor of our hutch. “You make it sound so easy.”
“It’s not. But I do think we can pull it off, at least from this end.”
“I’d be AWOL.”
Rodger nudged me with his shoulder. “It’s always been your dream to run away.”
I smirked. “Only this time, I have to come back.”
“No escape is perfect.” He grew serious. “Look, Petra. I don’t know why this is happening or why you’re in the middle of it.” He stopped to consider. “You’re always in the middle of it, aren’t you?”
“Lately,” I said, giving nothing away.
Rodger watched me as if he was trying to put the pieces together.
Nothing to see here.
I let out a breath when he let it drop. “If it does have something to do with the prophecies, you have to do it,” he said. Avoiding fate could spell disaster. “My pack leader always used to say things happen for a reason.” Rodger shook his head. “I mean, here I am.”
It was eerily unsettling how Rodger had arrived home early. As if even before I’d seen Marc, events had been set in motion that would allow me to get out of camp and confront the murdered Dr. Keller. If I actually had the guts to do it.
“It’s the little things, remember?” he said, repeating my words back to me. The last prophecies came true because of seemly inconsequential decisions.
How could I forget it? “Still, this decision is hardly free of consequences.”
“If you don’t go, what if you miss changing that one thing that could make the difference?” Rodger cocked his head. “What it boils down to is that I don’t think you have a choice.”
The truth of his words settled low in my stomach. “That’s what I was afraid of.”
Chapter Five
“Take this,” Rodger said, tossing his army field jacket my way. It missed my cot by three feet and smacked against the canvas wall of the hutch.
“It’s at least three sizes too big,” I said, turning back to my duffel. I’d stowed a flashlight, extra batteries, and six of the energy bars Rodger had brought from home. Plus the cookies.
I swallowed, my mouth too dry to even contemplate eating one.
“What?” he asked, leaning up against the hutch pole. “Did you actually replace your uniform coat?”
“Of course not.” I’d lost my field jacket the last time I was crazy enough to try to leave camp. But I didn’t want to swim around in my buddy’s. “Marc said he’d leave me a uniform.”
Rodger’s eyes widened. “That’s the easiest way to be shot as a traitor.”
“Thanks for the pep talk.” I said, turning back to my duffel. “If you can tell me another way to sneak into an enemy camp, I’m all ears.” Fingers trembling, I searched the nightstand next to my cot for a notebook. I tore out some pages, folded them down, and stuffed them into my boot, along with a pen. There they rested, a comforting weight against my ankle. “I won’t change until I’m past the Great Divide.”
Rodger harrumphed. “Speaking of which, do you have a plan for that?”
“Marc gave me a map of the armies,” I said, feeling for it in my back pocket. That was treason right there. I shoved it into my other boot. It wasn’t like I’d be changing my shoes.
I glanced behind me. Rodger stood in the same spot, eyeing me like a disapproving father. Tell me about it. I tried to give him a smile and failed.
“He’s leaving transportation,” I said, “most likely a Jeep, outside camp.”
“Did he say a Jeep?”
“No,” I groused, the realization prickling at me. Yeah, okay, this really was insane.
I rubbed my temples and wondered if James Bond ever got a stress headache before a mission.
Whatever Marc left for me, it had better be fast. I had to outrun imps before I could even think about crossing the Great Divide or sneaking into the enemy camp.
No telling what else was out there, either.
“Remember what I said about this being a good idea?” Rodger asked.
I searched under my cot for a weapon of some kind. All I had were shower supplies and my d
ress uniform, still in the box.
He stood next to me. “I changed my mind.”
Yeah, well, it was too late for that. Besides, I didn’t have to be a conventional soldier to pull this off. Lots of people made do. “My cousin Regis used to hunt alligators in the swamp with just a hook and a bang stick.”
“What? You think self-defense is genetic?”
Sitting back on my haunches, I made a quick search of my pockets. Maybe I could stab an attacker with my penlight.
I gave a shuddering sigh. “I can’t back out.” Despite the fact that I was no warrior, and certainly no James Bond, we had to know what was going on in that other camp. If Dr. Keller had discovered a weapon of some kind, I could bring back photos and information. Maybe Colonel Kosta would know what to do about it. Then I really would be a spy.
Seven hells.
I stood, nudging Rodger out of my way as I tossed the penlight into my bag. Couldn’t hurt, right?
“What do you think the catch is?” Rodger asked. “You know how the prophecies can be twisty and not one hundred percent literal.”
I didn’t even want to imagine. “Can I borrow your camera?” I asked. I hadn’t bothered to bring one down here. But Rodger took pictures to send to his kids.
“Don’t break it.” he said, as if that was our biggest problem.
As dusk fell, I zipped up my dark blue New Orleans Zephyrs jacket. It was the best camouflage I was going to get.
Rodger stood behind me. “I still think—” He stopped himself. “Never mind.”
I patted him on the shoulder. “Thanks, buddy.”
The footlocker behind him rattled, and we both jumped, our nerves getting the better of us.
Marius shoved open the lid and flipped his longish blond hair out of his eyes. It fell in stylish layers that framed his face.
My stomach crumpled.
“Stay right there, missy,” he said, his limbs stiff and awkward as he climbed out of the cramped space.
Yikes. “I assumed you were in your lair.” And not listening in.
“I’m having new mirrors installed,” he said, brushing imaginary lint from his black silk smoking jacket. Marius squinted against the lingering orange rays in the sky.
Worry stabbed at me. “I’m going whether you approve or not.” I just hoped he wouldn’t tell. I had to think that even if he wouldn’t outright lie for me, he wouldn’t turn me in.
“What you do with your short life is none of my business,” he said, “but going out there without a weapon is patently ludicrous.”
“Thanks for the insight,” Rodger remarked.
Marius ignored him.
He turned his back on us both and began working an ornate, blood-red chest from under his cot.
“I’ve never seen that before,” Rodger said.
“Me neither.” Despite Marius’s claims, we didn’t really bother his stuff. Unless it was already out. And at that point, he was just asking for it.
Marius lifted the lid. Inside lay an assortment of weapons the likes of which I’d never seen. He had curved swords and jewel-handled daggers, gleaming Chinese throwing stars, and what looked to be a Regency-era dueling set.
Rodger whistled. “What are you doing with all that?”
The vampire stiffened. “I used to display them in my home. I find them quite stimulating. Here, they’re just going to waste.”
He had a point. Nothing could improve this dump.
Marius reached for the pistol set, and I thought he was going to give me one of them. Granted, they only had one shot each—not very useful against a pack of imps—but it was something.
Instead, he reached for a velvet sack underneath and produced a strange-looking silver-and-bronze pistol, with a snub nose and rounded handle. There was a knob on the side in an exotic spiderweb design, as if the gun could be cranked up or down. It almost looked like a toy or a weapon carried around by a crazed Victorian inventor.
“Keep this in your pocket,” Marius instructed, handing it to me.
It was…interesting. “How do I load it?” I asked, turning it to the side, inspecting the scrollwork, trying to find where the bullets would even go.
“It doesn’t take ammunition,” he said. “It acts as an energy disruptor. I’d give you a demonstration, but you seem to have a soft spot for Rodger, as well as the swamp creatures out back. Besides, it’s extremely bright when it goes off. Take your sunglasses.”
I didn’t know if I should be glad or worried. “Thanks,” I said, touching the knob.
Marius hovered at my side like an overprotective mother. “Keep that on the lowest setting.”
“No kidding? Why?” I asked. It really was a gorgeous weapon.
“Or else I’m not responsible for your scrawny hide,” Marius said. “Here’s the safety.” He touched a long manicured finger to a lever next to the handle. “Keep that on until you’re ready to use it.”
“Thanks,” I said, reaching sideways to give him an awkward hug.
He stood unresponsive, and I felt him stiffen under my arm. “Yes, well, if someone has to go, I’m glad it’s you.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” I said, easing my duffel over my right shoulder. Night had fallen. It was time to leave.
“Other side,” Marius instructed. “You want to leave your firing hand free.”
I opened my mouth to protest because, really, who was going to shoot at me in the middle of camp? But then I shut it. Marius was right. I needed to stay in a position to defend myself, if only because I needed to get in the habit.
“Do you know how to use all those?” I asked him as he returned the weapons chest to its place.
“I wouldn’t have them if I didn’t,” he said, his back to me.
Rodger and I exchanged a glance.
“Be careful,” Rodger said, closing in to smother me with a bear hug.
“Piece of cake,” I lied before heading out into the night.
Flickering torchlight bathed the red dirt path as I made my way silently across camp.
There weren’t a lot of people out, and I thanked my lucky stars I’d managed to hit the lull between dinner and late-night debauchery. Most of the people out were either returning from shifts that ran late, or catching up with a friend before heading out to the club or home for the night.
I nodded to a pair of nurses going the opposite way, my hand sweating against the canvas strap of my bag, the gun in my pocket bumping against my leg with every step.
Don’t mind me. I’m just going AWOL.
Lord help me. I hadn’t even snuck out of the house as a never-wild and anti-rebellious teenager. The consequences, namely disappointing my father, had seemed too high. So why not make a go of it when I was only risking my medical career and my life?
My heart pounded, and I was tempted to turn back, go home, forget I’d even run into Marc. I’d gone ten years without him. Why not another ten? Or twenty for that matter?
But I had to figure out what was happening over at the MASH-19X. I tightened my grip, straightened my back. I was the only one who could.
The oracle had predicted a hideous new weapon. It was bad enough that the war would start up again soon. If I could learn what was happening, if I could prevent some of the horrific injuries, some of the senseless death, it would be worth it.
Please let it be worth it.
The helipad was set up on a hill overlooking the surgery tent. I ducked into the shadows between surgery and recovery and tried to stay as inconspicuous as I could. I was a shadow. Alone.
Breathe in, breathe out, I reminded myself as I made a dash for the unlit side of the hill. I didn’t dare take the main path. It blazed with torches, and I wouldn’t have been too surprised to run into a few guards as well. We kept some of the helicopter fleet gassed up and ready to go at a moment’s notice. This was a strategic place in more ways than one.
I battled up the rocky ground, bracing my hand against the sharp stones when I felt myself slipping. There was no w
ay to do this quietly. The rock crunched like glass under my feet.
This was one of the few natural rises on the Limbo plain. Chances were, they’d located our MASH unit here to take advantage.
There was a road off the back side—probably where I’d find my Jeep—but I wasn’t about to snake around the base of the hill in the dark. There were shallow caves back there. No telling what liked to nest in them.
Besides, I had somewhat of an excuse to be on the helipad, more than I did wandering the cave openings below.
If any guards spotted me, I’d tell them I’d lost my ID.
And pray they didn’t search my boots.
At last I reached the top and stepped up onto the smooth, flat dirt of the helipad. I didn’t see any guards, at least not yet.
Fiery torches outlined landing zones Alpha, Beta, and Gamma. Each pad was marked with a Greek letter and the ankh, an ancient symbol for life. It resembled a cross with a loop at the top.
That same ankh was emblazoned in red on my scrubs and on the roofs of our medical tents. It was our version of the red cross.
Beyond the landing pads, I caught a glimpse of movement in the shadows. My breath caught. It could be a guard or a creature of the night. Or my ride.
I closed a hand over the gun in my pocket, praying I didn’t need to use it.
Wait. I yanked my hand back. Of course I couldn’t use it—not on my own people. My head pounded. I was too keyed up.
Relax. Breathe.
Easier said than done.
There was no way to make it across the helipad unseen. Heart hammering, I inched along the side, making my way for the hulking machine on Gamma pad. If I could keep it between me and whatever was out there, I’d at least have some protection.
I stayed to the shadows, moving in silence.
My hand touched the cool metal of Gamma pad’s chopper.
“Hurry,” a familiar voice ground out.
Recognition whooshed through me. Marc. “Where are you?”
He stepped from the shadows. He’d stayed. I wasn’t alone. “Thank God. I could kiss you.”
His smooth facade faltered. “You don’t mean that.”
“No,” I said automatically.
I actually didn’t.
