Stars Across Time (15 page)

“Only if we can swim away from our captors,” Andie muttered.

“That could be a possibility. I did spend several years on the summer league team.”

“I did too,” Andie said, climbing out first, so she could help Min-ji down. “It was the one sport my parents would let me do because I convinced them that being a good swimmer would be handy if I was ever in a plane that went down in the ocean. I couldn’t find as compelling of a reason to get them to let me run around hitting balls with sticks.”

“I can’t believe you
wanted
to do sports. I was always trying to get out of it.” Min-ji winced as she swung her leg over the tailgate. She lowered herself down gingerly. “I preferred being at home with my computer. And my flute.”

“You should have had my parents. And vice versa.”

“It’s a rule of childhood that you don’t get the parents you want.”

“You’re wise for one so young,” Andie said.

Min-ji snorted, leaning against the truck for support. Shoulder-high reeds rose to either side of the pothole-laced dirt road they had ended up on. Rain spattered into puddles at the bottoms of the holes. Horse hoof prints marred the mud all along the route, some shoed and some unshod. A few deer and dog—or perhaps coyote—tracks were imprinted in the soft earth too. The air smelled of salt and seaweed, familiar scents in the Seattle area, but Andie hadn’t realized they had driven far enough to reach the Sound. True, she had been focused on bandaging wounds during the latter half of the trip, but she would have noticed the landscape out the back of the truck if it had switched from forest to city, and there would have been a lot of city if they had driven around Lake Washington and over to the Sound. Or the Sea. Whatever they called it now.

Andie climbed onto a rotting log by the side of the road to see over the reeds. To her surprise—and puzzlement—water stretched out ahead of her, a
lot
of water. The Olympic Mountains were visible in the distance, but she didn’t recognize this particular spot of shoreline. She could see large islands to the north and south, unfamiliar landmasses. A few of them had buildings on them, but trees dominated most of them. Maybe they had gone north instead of south when they had turned off the highway? Bypassing Seattle completely? Even so, Puget Sound appeared to be much farther across than it should have been.

“Sea,” she mumbled. “Min-ji?”

Her friend was already limping over to her, and Andie offered her a hand up onto the log. Some of the men were pushing through the reeds, following an overgrown trail toward the water.

“Oh,” Min-ji said when she could see over the reeds.

“Oh? Where are we?”

“Not sure, exactly. My sense of direction is severely hampered by being on Earth. I’m much better with a star chart.” Min-ji smiled, but Andie didn’t smile back. She didn’t care for this feeling of disorientation.

“Obviously the water level rose,” Min-ji said.

“In Seattle?”

“In everywhere,” Min-ji said dryly. “I think the projections are—were—a two-hundred-some-foot rise in sea level if all of the ice sheets melted.”

“Are you saying...” Andie squinted at one of the islands.

“I think that’s Capitol Hill.” Min-ji pointed to one of the landmasses to the northwest of them. “That’s probably a rather smaller Mercer Island.”

“If so, where are all the buildings?”

“Scrapped? Maybe Seattle wasn’t such a great place to live once you had to have a boat to get to the grocery store.”

“Shit. How can you be so blasé about this?”

“I’m pretending we’re on a grand adventure, and that we’ll soon be transported home to our own world, and you’ll finally be able to get your latte fix.” Min-ji smiled again, though when Andie squinted more closely at her friend, she could see that there was a grimness underlying the smile. Maybe she was just as alarmed by everything, but she was trying to keep up a brave front.

“Nobody’s transporting you anywhere except onto a boat for the ride to the market,” came Bedene’s voice from behind them. “Get down and get walking.”

He pointed at the reed-choked path some of the men had gone down.

“We’ll have you to the market by tonight,” he added. “I can’t wait to be rid of you.” He glared at Andie as he spoke the last.

A feeling of panic threatened to blossom in her chest.
Tonight?
As much as she had dreaded the idea of spending another night with these people, she hadn’t realized they were so close to their destination. She was running out of time to escape. Sure, she might be able to escape later, once she had been sold to whatever miscreant thought it was cool to buy human beings, but what were the odds that she and Min-ji would be sent to the same place? And what of the other women? Andie would never be able to keep track of them and find them again, especially in this backward century. She already feared she wouldn’t be able to do anything about that other group of girls, the virgins who would be doomed to a horrible initiation into womanhood. As if just being in this bleak world wasn’t horrible enough.

Bedene gripped her elbow and pulled her off the log. “I said move.”

Desperation hurled adrenaline into her veins, and a cry came from the back of her mind:
Fight! Now! It’s your last chance!

The other women had already started down the path, along with several men. Only Bedene and two others remained near her. Yes, the others might come running back as soon as they heard the noise, but if she got the jump on these three, maybe she could make it into the reeds, where they would have trouble tracking her.

Using her body to hide the movement, Andie slipped her hand beneath the hem of her shirt, reaching for the smoke bombs.

Before she touched one, the hard steel muzzle of a firearm prodded her in the ribs. Bedene gripped her arm again, stepping so close that his breath whispered across her cheek.

“Keep going,” he said.

Andie froze.

“I said keep going. Pull it out. Whatever you have under there.” He patted her thigh himself, then shoved up the hem of the shirt. “A knife? You—”

With his eyes tilted downward, she took a risk, knocking the rifle aside and leaping back, so it would miss even if he fired. She landed on the end of the log, wanting to throw a kick, to send the weapon flying, but some of the rotten wood crumbled beneath her heel. For a second, she flailed, trying to catch her balance. That was all it took. The other two kidnappers caught her, one grabbing her from behind and locking her in a bear hug. She tried to kick backward, but she lacked the leverage to do any damage. The second man caught her swinging legs and wrapped his arms around them. Hanging in the air between them, she twisted and bucked in the hope that the rain might make their grips wet and slippery, but she couldn’t escape. They held her fast, and soon they were walking, taking her toward the path.

“Wait.” Bedene smirked down at her, then grabbed her thigh. No, he was grabbing the knife. Even worse. He pulled it out, the twine falling uselessly into the mud, and gave his men a salute. “Toss her into the boat. And make sure to tie her up again.”

T
heron alternated walking and trotting the horse down the side of the highway, wishing he could drive it to gallop all the way. As good a shape as the hearty animal was in, it could not sustain such a pace any more than he could. It kept shaking itself, not being a fan of the rain. He ignored the water dripping into his eyes and down his bare back; his thoughts were turned inward. He did make himself glance back now and then, to make sure he didn’t have company.

After checking the cabin to ensure he wasn’t making assumptions, that Bedene and the women had, indeed, taken off in that truck, he had spent the next five miles hanging back in the brush, hiding from the raiders. Having been robbed of their prey, the wild men had been storming around, agitated, hoping to find something to make their day worthwhile. It hadn’t been until nearly noon that Theron had risked coming out of the forest and riding along the road. He was making better time now, but that truck was far ahead of him and growing farther away every minute.

A faint rumble reached his ears, just audible over the patter of the rain. Another vehicle? They were rare out here, with only the suicidal and the wealthy—those who could afford caravans, guards, and supply trucks full of gasoline—risking trips across the continent. Most merchants and traders took to the seas, rather than daring the wild lands between here and the Great Lakes and the East Coast cities.

Theron nudged his horse off the road, shifting and grimacing at the numbness in his ass. He hadn’t ridden bareback since he was a boy, and his muscles were less resilient these days.

A tottering truck rolled into view around a bend, coming down from the pass, the same as he had. To his surprise, the vehicle was almost identical to the one that Bedene had taken. A CAA five-ton, an army vehicle that had already been old when he first enlisted.

Theron’s thoughts flashed to Optimus and the other group of women. Could they have acquired a similar vehicle and be heading down to the Puget Sea area too? It made sense. Theron had checked the barn and the stables for other vehicles, in the vain hope that he might find a way to catch up with the others, but he hadn’t found anything. Still, Optimus could have had another cache at another point along the road.

The vehicle lumbered closer, wobbling precariously as it came down the incline. Theron spotted arrows sticking out of the frame, as well as from a flat tire on the driver’s side. That explained the wobble, though a gray plume of smoke drifting out from underneath the hood promised it wasn’t the truck’s only problem.

Theron couldn’t yet see through the windshield to identify the driver, but he would not wait for this vehicle to fly by. He gritted his teeth and lifted his rifle, quiet fury flowing through his veins. If these were Optimus’s men, he might have a chance to make up for his earlier failure. If the truck belonged to someone else... well, he would owe that someone money and an apology shortly.

He hopped off the horse and took cover behind a tree. Taking care with his aim, Theron waited until the vehicle drew within fifty meters and was swerving to avoid a pothole. He fired, striking the front passenger-side tire. He knew the sturdy wheel would not deflate immediately, but the driver swerved, surprised by the shot.

For a second, Theron glimpsed a rear tire. He fired again, striking it. He reloaded as the driver struggled with the vehicle. The passenger was gesticulating wildly, pointing to the road ahead, probably telling the driver to floor it and get past the sniper. But the truck was suffering from more than the abused tires, and it had gone over the edge of the road, where it struggled with mud.

By now, Theron could see the faces of the men inside the cab. He recognized them. Optimus was not there, at least not in the front, but the driver had been with Russell’s team for the campsite kidnapping. Theron finished reloading his rifle and took aim, his heart like stone. He would not make the mistake he had made before. He would not let fear or the unwillingness to shoot men in cold blood stop him, not when it would mean losing another group of women stolen from their time and carried off to a cruel fate.

He fired. His bullet cracked through the glass and struck the driver in the face.

A feminine scream came from the cargo bed. The truck would crash—Theron couldn’t stop that—but it was moving slowly enough that nobody should be gravely injured. Not by the crash, anyway. His face grim, he chose his second target.

The kidnapper in the passenger seat threw open the door and leaped out. Theron could have hit him as he sprinted for the woods, but he was unarmed. Not a threat.

The truck crashed into a copse of trees. Theron let the fleeing man go and ran toward the vehicle. He didn’t know if there were two men in the back guarding the women, or twenty, but they would be disoriented after the crash, at least for a few seconds. Theron had to strike now before they realized there was only one man out here.

He raced around the corner of the truck and leaped up, throwing aside the back flap. He led the way with his rifle, and a man trying to get out almost impaled himself. Theron recognized him immediately, one of the kidnappers who had helped capture Andie. He didn’t hesitate. His rifle cracked, the noise booming in the confines of the truck bed, and the bullet slammed into the man’s heart.

Theron shoved him aside, shooting a second kidnapper who was reaching for a rifle. With no time to reload again, he dropped his weapon and plowed forward with his knife and mace.

He had heard of men being consumed with battle rage, but he had rarely felt the sensation himself. When he was out in the field, in command of a unit, he stayed calm and cool; he had to. But this time was different. The day’s frustrations guided his movements, and he attacked, his hands a blur of motion as he swung the mace and slashed with his dagger. A few men managed to defend themselves, one even raising a rifle, which Theron knocked out of his hand before he could fire. Most were, as he had anticipated, disoriented or even injured, and they ran into each other, struggling to wield long rifles or swords in the confining space. Some tripped over the women tied up on the floor, and Theron almost suffered that fate himself, but they leaned away from him, terrified, giving him room. Other men leaped out the back of the truck, saving their lives by running. Theron let them go. He only wanted the kidnapped victims back, nothing more.

In the end, he killed six men, with another four or five being injured and running. He couldn’t imagine what he looked like to the women, who were tied and gagged and lined up in two rows on the floor of the cargo bed, but with blood spattering his chest, he wasn’t surprised that they stared at him with wide, terrified eyes. He recognized them from the cave but had no idea if they recognized him through the gore. He only wished Andie was among them. He needed someone he could trust.

He glanced out the back of the truck. Now that his blood was cooling, he worried that he had made a mistake in letting people go. They might return to harry him. He could only hope that he had driven the fear of the devil into their hearts, and that they would keep running until they collapsed from exhaustion.