Authors: Rebecca York
Ghost Moon (36 page)
He didn’t know how he was going to get the bomb out of there. A flash of movement made him whirl, expecting to see one of the colonel’s militia. Instead, Ross and Sam Morgan had changed from wolves to men—then leaped to help him.
Sam climbed into the van, and Caleb blinked. He had expectedto see some kind of cylinder with a rounded end. Like bombs he’d seen in movies.
Instead he found a large wooden box that looked like a shipping crate.
Sam pushed it toward the door. He and Ross tried to pick it up. But it was too heavy for the two of them.
Smoke was all around them now. Caleb ducked his head and struggled to breathe shallowly to keep from coughing. He knew that if the fire reached the gas tank, they were done for.
But none of them ran. They kept shoving at the box, which must have been lined with lead to prevent the radiationfrom escaping. At least he hoped it wasn’t escaping.
Somehow he and Ross steadied the dead weight in their arms. Then Sam was on the ground, helping them hold it up.
He saw movement again through the smoke. And he gasped when someone else joined them. It was Quinn.
“Get back,” he managed to say before a fit of coughing took him.
“No. You need me.”
He didn’t spare any more breath. Neither did she. But she stayed where she was, standing between the men and taking one corner of the heavy box as they all staggered away from the van and toward the shelter of a building.
She seemed to be taking more than her share of the weight. And in some part of his mind he remembered that she had run kitchen equipment with her mind. Was she doingsomething like that now, using her mental powers to help hold up the box?
Colonel Bowie was still on the ground, staring at them with a kind of horrible fascination. And Caleb was pretty sure he had seen the Marshalls change from wolves to men.
They staggered past the fallen man, away from the fire. And Caleb saw that he was trying to pull himself after them. But with a shattered arm and leg, he wasn’t making much progress.
They angled toward the side of a shed. Behind them smoke surged. And just as they rounded the corner, a tremendousboom sounded.
The ground shook. And a wave of heat rolled toward them. Seconds later, debris rained down around them.
They set down the box, and the naked Marshall men crouched, covering their heads with their hands. But Caleb reached for Quinn, pulling her against him, curving his body around hers.
“Are you all right?” he gasped out.
“Yes. Are you?”
“Yes.”
When the debris stopped falling she pulled his head down to hers for a savage kiss. And he kissed her back. Profoundly thankful that she was alive and in his arms.
When he heard someone running toward them, he tensed and grabbed for the machine gun still slung over his shoulder.But it was Lance.
“Are you all right?” Lance gasped.
“Yeah,” Ross answered for them, then he tried to suppressa fit of coughing. When he could speak again, he said, “And we got the bomb out of the van before it went up.”
He pointed toward the box, then started to step out from behind the building.
“You might want to put some pants on,” Lance murmured.
Ross looked down at his naked body. “Yeah, thanks.”
When Lance handed out sweatpants, both naked men turned away and pulled them on.
“You got something to wipe away our prints?” he asked.
Lance pulled off his shirt, and Ross wiped their finger-printsoff the box.
Then they stepped out from behind the building and looked toward the van. It was a charred hulk. And so was the man lying on the ground nearby.
Colonel Bowie was dead. And the second van stood forty yards away, untouched by the fire.
Ross pointed toward it. “I assume the other bomb’s in there?”
“We’d better make sure,” Sam said, striding toward the other vehicle and opening the doors. “Yeah, there’s an identicalbox in here.”
“Good.” Ross said.
Lance looked around. “How much time do we have?”
“To be safe, we should be out of here in twenty minutes. If a neighbor reported the shooting, the cops could be on their way. Are there any of Bowie’s men left?”
“If they survived, they’ve taken off,” Lance answered.
Quinn looked at Ross. “We’ve got a casualty. Jacob was shot.”
“Damn! How is he?”
“Logan and Olivia are with him. She says it’s not serious. Let’s hope she’s right.”
“She’s got some ability with healing,” Sam said as he headed for Logan’s vehicle.
“Okay, good.” Ross looked at Lance. “You have a phone?”
“Yeah.” He handed it over, and Ross called Megan, who was back at the house. She told them Zarah’s problem had turned out to be minor, as she’d assumed. And she said she’d wait for Jacob.
Ross’s next call was to Olivia, to tell her to go on ahead with Jacob when Sam got there.
When that was taken care of, Ross and Caleb started enteringbuildings.
Ross returned a few minutes later. “If the bombs aren’t evidence enough, I found those papers Jacob was talking about. I left them for the authorities to find. So let’s get the hell out of here.”
They headed toward the edge of the property.
When they were off the farm property, Quinn stopped by a fallen soldier and picked up the clothing lying beside him. Apparently, she wasn’t squeamish about getting close to a dead man.
“Is this Jacob’s?” she asked.
“I think so. Thanks,” Ross said. He rummaged through the soldier’s pockets and brought out Jacob’s keys. “Logan said the colonel had Jacob’s phone,” Ross reported.
“Then it’s burned beyond recognition,” Lance answered. “Let’s hope we didn’t leave any more evidence.”
“Wolf tracks,” Ross said. “Let them make something of that.”
They climbed in the two remaining vehicles and drove back toward Logan’s house.
“Open the glove compartment,” Ross said to Caleb. “There’s a prepaid cell phone.”
“Which means?”
“That nobody can trace the ownership. So you can call Ruckleman and tell him that the bomb is out at Flagstaff Farm.”
“What if he doesn’t believe me?”
“Then he’s going to get in trouble. Don’t let him keep you on the phone for more than a few minutes. We don’t want them sending the cops after us.”
Caleb punched in the number he’d memorized several days earlier and asked for Jerry Ruckleman.
“Who is this?”
He almost said his own name, but managed to switch to, “Wyatt Reynolds.”
“Where are you?”
“I’m not talking to anybody except Ruckleman. So if you want me to hang up, keep stalling.”
“Hold on.”
“Put him on now.”
Seconds later, Ruckleman came on the line. “Where the hell are you?”
“I went back to Flagstaff Farm to stop the colonel’s plot, since you didn’t seem to have any interest in preventing him from setting off a couple of dirty bombs in D.C.”
The Homeland Security man winced, and Caleb suspected that he was recording the conversation.
“It looks like Bowie’s troops went crazy and shot each other. When you get there, you’ll find the bombs. One’s in a crate behind a shed near the burned van. Bowie’s body is burned, too.
“The other bomb is in a second van, still in the shed. Both of them are stuffed full of radioactive waste. So be careful. Also, in his quarters, he has notes on his plans. I’m hanging up now.”
“Wait!”
Caleb pressed the off button.
“Now call 911 and tell them there’s been a mass murder out at Flagstaff Farm. If the cops aren’t already on their way, I want them out there so Ruckleman can’t do a cover-up.”
“Yeah, right.”
Caleb called the emergency number, gave the message, and hung up again.
After putting the phone back into the glove compartment, he asked, “You think he can’t track me down?”
“We can give you a new identity. You just have to stay out of trouble, because your fingerprints are on record.”
“Yeah.”
“And there are certain jobs you can’t take, because they’ll print you.”
He nodded, wondering exactly how he was going to make a living. He’d seen the trucks they had now. And the idea of driving one of those monsters didn’t appeal to him.
Maybe Ross noticed the expression on his face. “Take some time to relax and think about your options. We’ll help you.”
“Thanks,” he answered. “And thank you for coming out here with me. I couldn’t have stopped Bowie alone.”
“We wouldn’t have missed it for the world,” Ross answered.“Well, speaking for myself.”
Quinn, who was in the backseat, leaned forward, and put her hand on Caleb’s shoulder. “How do you feel?” she asked.
“Like I’ve done what Wyatt Reynolds wanted me to do. And that’s a weight off my chest.”
Quinn kept her hand on his shoulder, and he wished she were sitting beside him. They still hadn’t settled anything. But he was coming to terms with the reality that she was goingto be in his life.
Had to be. Because she was his life mate. He couldn’t deny what they meant to each other. But they had to have a frank talk about the future.
When they arrived home, Megan, Ross’s wife, was waitingfor them with a piece of unfamiliar equipment.
“A Geiger counter,” she explained. “I want to make sure you’re not contaminated.”
“Good idea,” Ross said.
They stood by the cars while she pointed a wand at each of them. Caleb held his breath, waiting. He wasn’t so worried about his own sorry ass. But if anything had happenedto Quinn, he would run off into the woods screaming.
“You’re all okay,” Megan said.
Ross grinned. “Of course.”
His wife’s eyes narrowed. “I hate it when you take chances.”
“That brings up the subject of Jacob. How is he?”
“Resting comfortably.”
“I’ll go in and talk to him.”
Caleb got the feeling that Ross wanted to chew out his cousin for almost getting killed. But at the same time, he knew that slashing the tires had prevented Bowie from leavingthe farm.
They all went into the house, where Zarah was waiting anxiously for them. She jumped up when she saw Quinn.
“I’m so sorry I couldn’t go along to help,” she apologized.
“It worked out okay. And I would have been afraid to get too close to the militiamen with you along.”
“But you weren’t afraid for yourself?”
“I was afraid. But Caleb and the other men needed our help.”
“What did you do?”
“Pretended to have engine trouble. When two of the militiamencame over, Olivia and I were able to influence them,” Quinn said with some pride in her voice.
“To do what?” Zarah asked.
“Shoot the others.”
Zarah winced.
“It was either them or us.”
“Yes. I know. But I hate all this violence.”
Caleb knew she was talking about the situation in her own world—as much as anything else.
Because the house was crowded, Lance said good-bye to everyone and went home. Sam and Olivia stayed for a while, but they had booked a room in a nearby motel for the night before their return to California in the morning.
Caleb suspected that they were going to do some private celebrating as soon as they got away from the group. And he was hoping he and Quinn could slip away somewhere private,too. Maybe the woods. He wanted to make love with her—after they talked.
He was thinking of asking her to go for a walk when Megan approached them, a serious look on her face.
“Let’s go out onto the porch where we can have some privacy.You, too,” she said to Quinn.
“Okay,” he answered, wondering what she wanted to say.
They stepped onto the screened porch, and Megan closed the door before turning back to them.
“Before all this started, I was thinking that gene therapy might work for you. I mean, it might make it possible for your new body to change to wolf form. What would you think about that?”
He hadn’t had much time for his private problems, but he felt a spark of hope leap inside him. And he remembered the rush of joy he’d felt when he’d run through the woods as a ghost wolf. He had thought he would never experience that again. Maybe he’d been wrong.
“Is it dangerous?” Quinn asked.
“It could be,” Megan answered honestly. “Nobody’s tried to treat something like this. Usually it’s done for a medical condition.”
“Can you tell us something about it?” Caleb asked, wonderinghow much he was going to understand. In 1933, medicinehad been far less advanced than it was now.
“You may not know it, but when I first did a genetic study of Ross, I found out that he had an extra chromosome that creates the werewolf trait. Do you know what a chromosome is?”
Neither of them did, so Megan went on. “It’s complicated.Your body is made up of cells. Chromosomes in the nucleus of each cell contain the genes that determine how your body works. I own a biotech lab, and I’ve studied werewolfgenes. They interact with male hormones in ways that are different from ordinary people.”
Caleb nodded.
“In the Marshall family, all girl babies died at birth.”
“I know,” Caleb murmured.
“I was able to save my daughter’s life.”
Catching the emotion in her voice, he felt his own throat tighten. The death of his infant sisters had been one of the terrible sorrows of his mother’s life—that and losing half her sons when they first changed to wolf form at puberty.
“I may be able to give you the crucial genes. I’d deliver them to you with a detoxified virus. Probably the virus for German measles.”
“It sounds complicated,” Quinn said.
“It is.” Megan glanced at Caleb. “Ideally, I’d put you in the hospital, but I can’t exactly tell the staff what I’m really doing. So I’d have to use a motel room near my clinic. If you want to try the procedure, I’d do genetic testing on you. And I’d get the gene from one of the other Marshall men.”
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