Buried Flames (18 page)

Mason considered using staples to close the wound, but he decided to save that for a last result if the wound was reopened again. He spread the injections out to cover a widespread area. They were done just as Brenna had returned, her exhaustion not even close to be satiated. He didn’t like how pale she’d become and he certainly didn’t like the dark blemishes that were still underneath her eyes. He would have allowed her to sleep longer had it been safe, but the saying
you can sleep when you’re dead
pretty much summed up their situation.

Mason hadn’t really thought about someone else being in his life in a very long time. At least, not the way he was thinking about Brenna now. He’d done well avoiding any intimacy since he’d returned, but she’d somehow managed to wiggle around those barriers in a very short amount of time. She was right. He hadn’t been that nice to her. It wasn’t fair considering the mental turmoil they were all going through. He did his best to compartmentalize the way their interpersonal connection was adapting to the current situation. He couldn’t manage to keep himself emotionally distant while giving her the reassurances she needed.

“Fairfax, be ready to roll in five minutes. We need to clear their AOR.”

Mason could see the confusion on Brenna’s face, but Fairfax had understood AOR meant
area of responsibility
. He unfolded his timeworn body, ignoring the continual aches he dealt with on a daily basis. He took her by the hand and led her around another stack of cask barrels twenty feet away from where Fairfax was now loading the animals. Her surprise was evident when Mason leaned against the wooden frame, tenderly pulling her into his arms and just holding her. She didn’t break, but her ragged sigh told him she’d needed this affection. Hell, maybe he did too.

“I figure we have two weeks of hell before we arrive in Lost Summit.” Mason slowly stroked a hand up and down Brenna’s back, gently resting his chin on the top of her head. He breathed deeply, catching a scent of the shampoo she’d used earlier at the rest stop. “We can do this together.”

“That’s not what you said yesterday,” Brenna whispered, her arms tightening around his waist. “As a matter of fact, you were pretty angry with me for everything I did.”

“I’m an asshole,” Mason muttered with a half smile, glad she couldn’t see it. He didn’t want her thinking this was more than what it was. “You said so yourself.”

“You have your moments.”

For the next few minutes, they stayed this way…just holding one another while the severe conditions outside waited on them. Humanity did matter, regardless that they each had their thoughts on the subject matter. Mason didn’t really take into consideration death. If it happened, his worries were over. He’d been at death’s door several times and it had never opened. Maybe his soul was so black that neither side wanted him just yet, but he sure as hell didn’t want Brenna to be next in line behind him.

“I’ll get you there,” Mason promised, usually not the type of man to make promises he was unsure he could keep. He didn’t believe in guarantees, but he
would
do this. “Look at me.”

Brenna took her time, but she finally lifted her heart-shaped face up to his. Her blue eyes searched for something he couldn’t name, and that was fine by him. He wasn’t so sure who he was anymore either, because he did the one thing he’d said he wouldn’t. He kissed her hard on the mouth.

Mason wrapped her braid around his palm, closing his fingers around the soft plait and using it to angle her mouth just so he could own her lips. Her sweet flavor reminded him of their younger years and he wished they were back in that simpler time. He continued to kiss her as if they were, taking this minor break from reality they so richly deserved. He didn’t stop either until both of them were gasping for breath.

“I’m going to hold you to that promise,” Brenna whispered, making it sound as if Mason had promised more than just her safety. He started to shake his head and correct her misinterpretation, but he stopped when he saw the sparkle in her blue eyes. She was currently energized and that alone would get her through another long stretch of the journey ahead of them. He would deal with the consequences later. “Let’s get started before I change my mind and decide to stay here for the rest of our lives and drink this place dry.”

Mason followed Brenna out of the alcove, trying to get his mind back on the right track. Their lives were still in danger and he needed to do everything in his power to find out why. He didn’t stop until he’d reached the two bodies. He leaned down and searched every pocket, as well as their boots, which weren’t standard military issued.

“You won’t find anything,” Fairfax stated as he pulled Major out from the corral. The beautiful horse was ready to go with all of their gear packed properly in large leather duffels and covered with heavy canvas tarps. They were set to make it through to the next stop with everything they needed in its place. The rider, on the other hand, looked a little worse for wear. “They’re professionals.”

“At what? Dying?” Mason inquired, catching sight of Brenna rigging the makeshift harness to Sergeant’s muzzle. She cast a glance or two their way, listening intently to what was being said. Smart girl. He still didn’t quite know what the two of them were doing when Fairfax had been able to pull Brenna out of the field of fire so fast, but it shouldn’t matter to him. At least, that’s what he kept telling himself. “Hunting down their target? They did that quite well, but they failed to see their mission through. You said there were three, so there’s still at least one at large. You want to share anything with me now?”

“I was given classified information that I need to pass on to my team leader. They don’t want me to succeed in that mission.”

Mason considered Fairfax’s exclamation, not sure if he was buying the entire
classified information
bit. Either way, he was armed with more knowledge than before if Fairfax was telling the truth…and that was a big stretch considering he wasn’t being so forthcoming.

“Who do they work for?”

“Are you sure you want to know?” Fairfax led Major to the barn door, waiting for Brenna to bring out Sergeant. Sam was already outfitted in his rig, although the way he was pawing at his nose said he wasn’t happy about it. Mason was feeling like that about this conversation. He nodded anyway and braced himself for what Fairfax was about to reveal. “NSA. Special Operations.”

Mason wasn’t sure he heard correctly, because that would mean he’d just killed two members of his own government’s securities service in cold blood. He looked back down at the dead men on the ground, noticing they were very nondescript in their appearance—dressed in BDUs designed for urban warfare, commercial off the shelf tactical gear, and carrying top of the line weapons.

“Where is your team leader?” Mason asked the question in a somewhat monotone manner, afraid he’d let his rising anger loose during a time when he couldn’t afford to. Men like him knew better than to mess with the NSA. These agents were handpicked, specialist selected, from over fourteen different intelligence, security, and military services. Those slick bastards were the worst of the worst and operated totally off the books on a bottomless black budget. They weren’t used to operating according to anyone else’s playbook because they didn’t need to. “And I better get an honest answer this time, or I swear you’ll be lying on the ground next to those two bodies of your buddies.”

He could see Fairfax weigh the odds of postponing the reveal of more answers, but he must have seen the lethal look in Mason’s eyes. He wasn’t kidding. Brenna would have to learn to just deal with his soulless side that had been fostered during multiple combat tours while watching his fellow Marines die at the hands of determined enemies. He wouldn’t allow her to be another casualty because he didn’t do his job. Even though he wasn’t expecting a truthful answer, it was still a blow to his chest.

“Lost Summit, Washington State. Part of my team found a safe haven at an old fishing lodge located in northern Washington,” Fairfax finally admitted, tightening his hold on Major’s reins. “I need to get there as soon as possible. My team, and whomever else is there with them are in far more danger than you can possibly imagine.”

B
renna had gone
through every tumultuous emotion known to man over the last three weeks. At least, that was how it felt. The length of time seemed longer by a factor of months, if not years. They had ridden in twelve-hour stretches, resting for two or three, only to repeat the cycle…for twenty-one torturous days. It wouldn’t have been such a long journey had Ace not succumbed to an opportunistic infection, regardless that he’d been given antibiotics. He was barely hanging on to his life, while she was only just holding on to her sanity trying to care for Sam and the horses during the times that Mason tried to save Ace’s life.

“What was your favorite part of owning the ranch?”

Mason had been asking Brenna questions every hour on the hour, either to keep her awake or to keep her rational when all she wanted was to rip this damned mask off of her face and breathe in some fresh air. It was beginning to piss her off.

Brenna had never been claustrophobic before, but she was beginning to see how it was possible. Her skin itched, even though she was covered head to toe with clothes because the temperature had dropped to the high forties at night. At least, what she thought was nighttime. She wanted the grimy material away from her skin. More than that, she wanted a healthy hot meal. They’d survived on cold MREs and whatever could be scrounged from various places where they holed up. Mason had said the water used for the food pack heaters was a waste and refused to use them. She no longer could taste what she was eating, but it was probably for the best considering what they had to consume. As sad as it sounded, she’d gotten used to feeling hungry all the time.

“I don’t want to do this anymore,” Brenna moaned wearily, resting her chin against Sam who was still snuggled up against her. The poor dog never complained, regardless of the fact that he would look up at her through his makeshift mask with that one somber blue eye that begged her to hurry this trip along. The only saving grace was that the ash wasn’t as bad this far north as it had been closer to the initial blast zone. She swore to herself that she wouldn’t ask, but she blurted out the question before she could take it back. “How far do you think we have left to travel?”

“Long enough for you to tell me your favorite part about owning your family’s ranch.” Mason held steadfast in his attempt at making Brenna continue to talk to him about the most inane bullshit. It wasn’t so much that he wanted to know who she’d become, but more about making lighthearted conversation to pass the time as they marched through the ashen wasteland that had become the picturesque wilderness of the great northwest territory. It also kept her thoughts off of the man literally draped across Major’s back, leaning heavily on his neck for support. Mason ended up improvising a means to keep Ace from falling out of the saddle, since he was mostly sliding in and out of consciousness. “I can only imagine how hard it was for you to give up your dream of doing sex shows for the elderly.”

“Mason, let’s face it,” Brenna replied, ignoring his attempt at humor. He wasn’t even funny. She lifted her head when she caught sight of a sign up ahead. There was still too much ash to see clearly, so she distractedly told him the truth. “There isn’t anything else you don’t know about me at this point. It’s been almost three weeks and we’ve shared everything we can possibly think of about each other, except of course for why you decided to hide yourself away from the world when you came home. You won’t talk about your scars, you won’t tell me stories about your time in the Marine Corps, and you won’t share with me your nightmares I
know
you have every night. I know this because I’m the one who wakes you up when you break out into a cold sweat even though it’s only fifty damn degrees out here in the daytime. That is, if you can call it daytime since the sun never shines anymore and the sky is always raining ash. What I do know is all about Tank, Mav, Owen, Berke, and Van. I could tell you everything down to their favorite weapon and what type of field skills they each have perfected.”

Brenna didn’t include the fact that Mason even knew her monthly cycle. She’d embarrassingly had to stop them over a week ago in order to find a place where she could clean herself up and change her tampon. Since that time, they’d had to break every few hours so she could freshen up, which actually helped allow Mason to attend to Ace and check on his condition. She was ever so grateful that she remembered to pack enough feminine hygiene items, because that would have been damned uncomfortable for both of them had she forgotten.

“It’s important that you—”

“Mason, tell me that sign says what I think it says,” Brenna said as she drew in her breath through her mask and held it until he gave an answer.

“We’re close,” Mason said, his tone grim as they entered the outskirts of the town that Lost Summit had become. She could just imagine it was nowhere near the vibrant tourist town it had once been. The population sign read forty-seven, which astounded Brenna. That wasn’t a whole lot of residents, but then again, it was only a tourist town catering to hunters and fishermen on this side of the Canadian border or for those who loved hiking in the forgotten wilderness of the eastern approaches to the great Rocky Mountains. “Keep your eyes and ears open. I don’t know what to expect, but on our last transmission Mav mentioned there was a group of marauders in the general area.”