Stars Across Time (2 page)

Andie was shoved up against the Jeep with enough force to knock the air from her lungs. No fewer than three men pinned her there, their shaggy bodies pressed against her so she could not get a knee up to defend herself.

“She’s a feisty one,” one snickered, his face far too close to hers as he leaned in from the side.

His hot breath smelled of rotten meat, and she almost gagged. His accent was strange. Even though she had visited numerous countries, she couldn’t identify it. He didn’t sound like he came from Washington State; that was certain.

“Good find,” another of her captors said, then startled her by dropping his foul mouth onto hers, practically thrusting his tongue down her throat.

Even though fresh terror charged through her, Andie bit down with all of the strength in her jaw, imagining herself as a wolf with the power to crush bones with her teeth.

The man screamed as loudly as the woman in the other camp had. Flesh ripped free, and blood flooded her mouth. This time she
did
gag. She spat out whatever part of his tongue he had left between her teeth, her stomach roiling at the horror of the situation.

Laughter came from the other men holding her. “That’ll teach you, Blackie,” one said between laughs.

Andie twisted, hoping they might be distracted and that she could escape into the woods. Whoever they were, they would have trouble finding her in the dark, if she could just get away from the car and the camp.

But the other two only leaned harder against her, keeping her from moving. She couldn’t even get her hands up to defend when the one she’d bitten reared back into her sight, his face livid. He punched her in the face, and pain exploded in her cheek, her head knocking to the side so hard, the blow threw every thought from her mind. Out of some vague instinct, she ducked her chin to her chest, trying to brace herself for another attack.

“Enough,” came a cold voice from in front of her. It was the man who held Min-ji. He, too, was bearded, if less fully than the others, and he also wore a heavy fur coat, along with a rifle on a strap hung across his chest. Hell, was that even a rifle? Andie’s cheek throbbed, and the taste of blood in her mouth made her want to throw up, but she forced herself to focus on the weapon, trying to figure out who these people were. She didn’t recognize it at all, but it looked more like an old Civil War Winchester than anything modern. It was almost as if she had gone back in time and stumbled across a group of trappers. Min-ji’s captor also wore a knife with an antler hilt, and a heavy-looking iron mace hung opposite it on his belt.

“You want to sell them,” the man added when the others looked in his direction, “you better not batter them up before you get them to the market.”

The market? What the hell?

“Who asked you, new blood?” Blackie snarled.

“I don’t know about you, but I joined to make some money.” Min-ji’s captor flicked dismissive glances at the men, then met Andie’s eyes for a long moment. His expression was hard to read, but he had sharp gray-blue eyes that probably didn’t miss much. His black hair was tousled, but not as long and shaggy as most of the men’s. He had a strong jaw and might be handsome if he ever cleaned up, not that she cared what any of these morons looked like under the grime. He shook his head slightly, then looked away from her.

Andie had no idea what to make of the gesture. It was almost as if he was disappointed. In her? Because she had bitten his buddy’s tongue? Well, she would bite his, too, if he brought it anywhere near her.

“Mace is right,” an older man said, stepping up beside Min-ji’s captor. Mace? He had named himself after his weapon? What a tool. The older man was dressed like the others, though he carried a short sword. Gray streaked his unkempt beard, and deep lines creased the corners of his eyes. One of his hands was injured—or had been deformed since birth—with the third and fourth fingers fused and stumpy. “They’re worth a lot. They’ll bring more coin if they’re not all bruised up.”

“We don’t have to bruise them.” Blackie pressed close to Andie again, this time grabbing her by her ponytail. She glared at him, but he didn’t bring any body parts close enough for her to bite. “Just have some fun before we turn them over to their new owners.”

Owners? What
was
this? Andie knew a slave trade still existed in parts of the world, but not in the mountains two hours from Seattle, damn it. And whoever these thugs were, with their antiquated weapons and strange accent, they were speaking English. Was there truly some rural area over here where women were being bought and sold?

“We had to work hard for this one,” Blackie added, tugging at her ponytail, his grip anything but gentle. “Let us have her for a couple hours. It won’t lower their value at the market. It’ll get them ready for their new lives.” He chuckled.

Andie seethed and bit back the words that wanted to flow out of her mouth. She didn’t want to get hit again, not when she stood nothing to gain from it. She hoped someone with some scruples would disagree with the yokel, even as she braced herself, trying to store her fear at the back of her mind so she could continue to think straight. If these thugs started dropping their pants, she might find an opportunity to escape. She refused to contemplate that she might not find that opportunity.

“Wouldn’t even take hours,” the man to Andie’s right said, snickering. “Been so long since we had a woman, everyone could work their way through in a few minutes.” His body was pressed against Andie’s side, pinning her right arm, just as his counterpart on her left had that side of her body immobilized. So he was in no danger when he lifted a hand to paw at her through her jacket, finding her breast and squeezing with all the gentleness of a bulldozer.

“Swing your own tongue, Mac. I’ve got stamina like a race horse. Bet she’ll like it too.”

“Nobody’s taking hours or minutes with anyone,” the graying man said. “Some of them are young enough not to have been popped.” He eyed Min-ji speculatively.

She wasn’t a virgin, but Andie wasn’t going to say anything if it might keep them from raping her young friend.

Two other men walked into view, both with female prisoners of their own. The women from the other camps. One was standing, her head bowed in defeat. The other was slung over a man’s shoulder, dangling unconscious—or maybe she was afraid and was feigning unconsciousness. What had happened to the men who had been camping with these women? Even though it made her cheek ache, Andie twisted her head, trying to see through the windows of the Jeep and toward the other camps. The dome light wasn’t powerful enough to illuminate the ground very far in any direction. Maybe it was for the best. She dreaded seeing a violently murdered man on the forest floor.

“This one’s no virgin,” Blackie said, his fingers coming to rest on the back of Andie’s neck. He tightened them, digging in, forcing her to tilt her head back to look at him. “Are you, woman?”

At thirty-two? Not likely. But she kept her mouth shut, resolving to keep herself out of further trouble—unless it was worth it. Blood stained the man’s beard. Too bad he could still talk. Andie must not have taken off more than the tip of his flapping tongue. She narrowed her eyes, making herself stare into his without flinching. Maybe she would get the chance to bite off something else. She smiled fiercely at the thought. At least that was what she intended to do. Unfortunately, his buddy kept mashing and squeezing her breasts. It was hard to look fierce with that going on.

She caught Min-ji’s captor looking at her from several feet away, his face colder than ice. Because he didn’t approve of the men groping her? That hardly seemed likely in this group. Maybe he wanted her for himself, and that was why their manhandling irritated him. She didn’t usually get that much attention from men, so she wasn’t sure she should assume that, but these thugs seemed particularly horny. She wondered if she might somehow pit them against each other.

“This one might be a virgin,” the older man said, waving toward Min-ji and rubbing his stumpy, misshapen finger. “And that one there’s barely a woman. She was out here with her papa, looks like. She’ll do real sweet at the market.”

The girl in question was staring around, her eyes rounder than moons. She looked to be in shock. Andie hoped the men hadn’t killed her father before carrying her away.

“We’ll look the others over back at the cave,” the graying man relented when the pawing continued, none of the thugs who were tormenting Andie taking their eyes from her. The leader didn’t seem to have much control over the men, and Andie worried she wouldn’t be able to escape this fate, after all. “If the boss doesn’t have another use for them.”

“I’ve got a use for this one right now,” Blackie said, rubbing against her.

Andie gritted her teeth so hard, she risked breaking them.

“That’s right,” Mace said. “We should plunder the women before we try to sell them. Because I hear buyers at the market really treasure used goods.”

“Did he say plunder?” a man in the background asked. “Who says plunder?”

“I think pirates said that back in the twentieth century,” said another.

“Try the seventeenth,” Mace muttered.

Andie couldn’t bring herself to feel grateful to Mace or any of these thugs, but at least he had distracted a couple of them. Maybe they would remember whatever else it was they were supposed to be doing here. Some of them did wander off, but the ones pinning Andie did not move away from her. Maybe putting up such a fight had been unwise; now they knew what she could do and that she had to be watched closely.

“Come on,” the older man snapped, irritation seeping into his voice. “Let’s get back to the machine before someone comes to investigate those shots.”

Andie’s tormenters hesitated, as if she was some ultra-alluring gold nugget that they couldn’t tear themselves from. Maybe they had escaped from a prison and hadn’t seen women for a long, long time.

Mace pushed Min-ji toward the leader and strode toward Andie and the men holding her. Before they realized he had moved, he gripped Blackie by the back of his neck, hauling him away from her. Blackie snarled and swung at him. Mace didn’t bother blocking the blow; he simply evaded it and knocked the other man on his ass so quickly, Andie didn’t quite follow what he had done. A leg sweep and something else. He eyed the other men, but they shook their heads, not stepping forward to try him. The one mashing Andie’s breast lowered his hand.

Mace was the first trained fighter she had seen in the group, but she couldn’t find herself enthused about his talent, even if he was using it to help her now. That help was only a result of his leader’s wishes, and it had nothing to do with her. He would be hard to slip past whenever—if—she found her chance to escape.

Mace pointed at her. “Make sure you tie up that one. We don’t want to lose anyone.” Then he turned his back on her, glaring down at Blackie as he passed, but simply stalking into the woods after that.

Andie swallowed, uncomfortable after he disappeared into the shadows. What if the men decided to ignore their leader and resumed their manhandling?

But Blackie did not return to her. Andie tensed as the other two pulled her away from the car, yanking her hands behind her back. Even though the men stayed close and kept their grips on her arms, for a few seconds, she wasn’t pinned by their weight. She might have lifted a leg for a kick or rammed her knee into one of their groins. Maybe there was a chance she could yet escape, before they trussed her up like a rotisserie chicken.

Min-ji spoke softly in Korean.

Andie was half-Korean, but she didn’t understand any of the words. Her mother had been a second-generation American and had never spoken the language at home. Andie had learned more from her years practicing Tae Kwon Do in the Air Force than she had growing up, but Min-ji wasn’t talking about punches or kicks. She was probably telling Andie to wait, that the odds were against them now. Not bad advice.

Andie sighed and let the smelly thug tie her hands behind her back, the coarse rope biting into her wrists. Apparently, these people didn’t have zip-ties.

While the men were binding her, Min-ji, and the other two women, two more brutes ambled into view, their arms laden with lanterns, sleeping bags, and other gear they must have stolen from the camps. Whistling, one of them poked his head into Andie’s Jeep. He removed a blanket but left her purse behind the seat where she had left it.

A third man trundled into view, carrying two five-gallon plastic gas jugs. He had a large, lumpy head and a blind eye, nothing but the white showing. What kind of freak show was Andie dealing with? He stopped at the rear of the Jeep and pried open the gas door. Another man showed up with a hand pump and tubing. Andie stared with disbelief as they siphoned the gas out of the tank. She had a couple hundred bucks in her purse, and they were stealing the
gas
instead?

“Got it all, Russell,” the one with the jugs said after a few minutes. He screwed on the cap and nodded to the leader.

“Good. Time to get going.”

Blackie pushed Andie toward the trees. Other men crowded at her side. Her feet might be free, but she had few delusions of outrunning anyone with her hands bound and with so many people ready to flatten her to the ground if she took a wrong step. Now that the entire group was here, aside from Mace who hadn’t returned since disappearing into the woods, she could count them. There were twenty men. She and the other campers had never had a chance.

Coyotes yipped and yowled nearby, drawn by the blood that had been spilled. Or maybe they were simply pronouncing her fate. As the men pushed their captives into the dark forest, toward where she had seen that light earlier, Andie tried not to feel they were being marched to hell.

C
olonel Aloysius Theron, currently undercover as a thug named Mace, stalked through the dark trees ahead of the group, keeping his rage to himself. He was glad the night would hide the tension in his shoulders—and the fact that he wanted to spin around and kill every one of his so-called comrades, especially the idiots who had been mauling that woman. A woman whom he would have gladly invited into his unit, to fight alongside his men in the border skirmishes back home. He wagered she already had military experience, here in this era, or perhaps she was on a police force.