Desert Guardian (23 page)

"Mommy!"
Lynette staggered back as Valya tried to fend off the coyote, the gun pointed
at the tent's ceiling. Lynette flung herself at her mother in an effort to
protect her.

"No!"
Sam lunged for his daughter. As he did, the thunder of gunfire split the desert
night. The bullet's impact was sudden, branding his thigh with a bright flash
of pain. He reached for Lynette. She screamed and scrambled from his grasp.

Cody
lost his hold on Valya when the gun went off, but he quickly latched on again.
Sam searched for Von among the dancing shadows thrown by the flashlight rolling
across the tent floor. A lanky, white-haired figure jogged clumsily toward the
front of the tent in an effort to escape.
Let
him go
. Sam didn't care at this point. All he wanted was to save his child,
who clung fiercely to her mother.

Valya
apparently had a different idea as she swung her bloody arm in Von's direction
and pulled the trigger. "Coward!" she screamed.

Von
dropped to the ground in a heap, legs sprawled and face buried in the floor of
the tent.

Cody
leapt out of the way. Two gunshots were more than enough for him, and he whined
while pacing along the tent wall, the smell of blood confusing him. The whine
became a growl, and he panted as he paced, his lips red with Valya's blood.

Hands
shaking, Sam pointed his .38 at Valya. She still held her gun with grim
determination, switching her aim from the coyote to Sam. Her lips peeled back
in a snarl, she ignored Lynette's frightened wails as she steadied the gun.

The
instinct to survive was like an alarm inside his head. He cared nothing for
Valya and thought only of his daughter. Lynette's tear-streaked face turned
toward him, her eyes filled with pleading to take mercy on her mother. Lynette's
mother, a demented fool who would take her own child's life without a second
thought. This was the woman who had mercilessly killed his own mother simply
for being sick and weak and no longer of any use to her.

He
thumbed back the hammer.

Valya
steadied her aim on him and let out a blood-curdling scream of triumph.

A
whistle of wind seared past Sam's ear, bringing with it a dart-sized arrow that
embedded itself in Valya's right shoulder. The woman's maddened cry changed to
one of agony as she instantly dropped the gun.

"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.

"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 coming 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?"