Stud (23 page)

Even taking everything one step at a time was tough when danger lurked in every direction. He was thankful that Lucy had taken his attackers’ knives. At least they were armed to a degree, and she still had her pulse pistol. Even so, aside from vrelnots—and he’d only seen the head of the one mounted on the wall at the café—he had no idea what to expect, and he doubted that Lucy did either.

Of course, his being able to see would improve their chances of survival enormously. At the moment, Tarq could only tell they’d reached the mountains from the way the ground beneath his feet had gone from smooth and grassy to steep and rocky.

Lucy had to be as exhausted as he was. Granted, she hadn’t been kicked in the ribs, but Tarq could hear her labored breathing and when she finally stopped to rest, he sank gratefully to the ground. “Where are we?”

“About halfway up the side of a valley underneath an overhanging slab of rock. There’s a sort of shallow cave here with bushes growing around it. If anyone who knows the area is following us, this’ll probably be the first place they look, but I don’t think I can go any farther tonight, let alone climb those mountains. We’ll have to risk staying here for a while.”

Tarq nodded. “We might be here longer than you think. Once I go to sleep, you may not be able to wake me up for a couple of days.”

A sharp intake of breath revealed her dismay even before she spoke. “A couple of days? Tarq, we
really
have to keep moving.”

“I won’t be able to help you. When Zetithians are sick or injured, we sort of shut down while our bodies heal themselves. The only reason it hasn’t happened before now is that you kept me awake and moving. I’m surprised I didn’t conk out while you were tying up those men.”

“Maybe it means you aren’t hurt all that bad. I don’t suppose you have your scanner, do you?”

Tarq could hear the hope in her voice, but he knew that broken ribs and swollen eyes might not be the most serious of his injuries. He shook his head. “It’s in the speeder. All I’ve got in my pocket are the firestarter and a tea bag.”

“Too bad you don’t have
two
tea bags,” she said ruefully. “I could really use a cup of tea right now.”

Tarq couldn’t help but laugh. “It’s all yours. Anyway, it’d be wasted on me.” He didn’t want to alarm her, but he might be out longer than the two days he’d mentioned. Being able to heal yourself while you slept was a useful means of survival when no medical care was available, but he’d be pretty much defenseless until he woke up and certainly no help to Lucy. “You drink it.”

Lucy sighed. “I would, but we probably shouldn’t risk a fire at this point—too easy to spot if we’re followed—but I’m glad we’ve got the capability.”

“I’m sorry for getting you into this mess, Lucy,” he began, but she cut him off.

“It’s not your fault, and I’m not going to let you blame yourself, either. It’s Fred’s fault and no one else’s. You forget about that and focus on getting well.” She didn’t say anything else, but Tarq could hear her moving about. He tried to stay alert, but his consciousness was slipping…

The last thing he remembered was being rolled over onto a blanket.

***

Lucy tucked Tarq in and went in search of water, figuring she’d better get it now while it was still dark enough that she wouldn’t be seen. She had three water bottles, two of which were now empty. She’d followed a creek into the mountains but had climbed higher up in the valley to find shelter. Thankful for the moonlight, she glanced up at the sky and noted that the moon was past its zenith, but it would be nearly morning before it set, if then. She dug into her duffel bag and found Tarq’s pan, then began her descent to the creek. Going downhill was easier but more treacherous than their climb had been. She slipped more than once, for the valley was deeper here, its slope studded with loose rock, stunted growth, and the occasional boulder.

Upon reaching the stream, she scooped up a pan full of water and drank as much as she could hold. The sound of flowing water reminded her of the previous night, having dinner with a very testy Tarq, followed by a night in the tent she wouldn’t forget even if she lived long enough to see her great-grandchildren grow up. Of course, if Fred and his buddies ever caught up with them and they figured out why she and Tarq were together, she might not live long enough to see her
own
children born.

Gazing back toward Yalka, Lucy saw no movement in the valley at all, with the exception of a few birds. She had always heard that a trek through the Eradic range was tantamount to committing suicide if you weren’t well equipped, but so far, so good. Still, given that reputation, once Fred realized that they’d ventured into the mountains, he might decide to let the vrelnots get them and save himself the trouble.

Refilling the pan and the water bottles, she began to climb, revising her original assessment that the trip down was more difficult. The route they had taken before had been a gentle rise; as they went farther up the valley, she had simply aimed for higher ground. What she was climbing now wasn’t precisely vertical but it might as well have been. She’d be lucky if she had any water left in the pan by the time she reached the place she’d left Tarq.

If
she could find it. She hadn’t been looking for shelter when she stumbled onto it; she’d skirted around some bushes and there it was. Unfortunately, anyone familiar with the region might also know it was there, and Fred had often bragged about going hunting in the Eradics…

Brushing that disturbing thought aside, she continued on, thinking that if what Tarq had said was true, this spot would be home for a few days. She smiled to herself, thinking that if nothing else, she would develop some strong leg muscles, but still wished they’d had a little more food. The stream was deep enough that it might have some fish in it, but Lucy had never been fishing in her life. How did one catch a fish without bait, line, or even a hook?

Occupied with these thoughts, Lucy stumbled upon their den before she realized it. Tarq was lying exactly the way she’d left him, but if he was breathing, she certainly couldn’t tell it. Stifling a scream, she nearly dropped the water, but her practical nature quickly reasserted itself. Her heart in her throat, she set the water down and knelt at his side, laying her shaking hands on him, searching for signs of life.

He wasn’t cold—in fact, he felt warmer than normal, which was reassuring. Placing her fingertips on the side of his neck, she finally found a pulse—very faint and slow, but steady. Perhaps this was what he’d meant when he’d said his body would shut down to heal itself. On the other hand, he’d said he would sleep for a couple of days, not appear to be dead.
Trust
a
man
to
leave
out
the
most
pertinent
detail…

After making sure that her pistol was right where she could get to it in a hurry, Lucy settled in beside Tarq. She received no response when she kissed him good-night and certainly none of the joy she knew he was capable of giving her.

But they were both alive.

Whether they would remain so was anyone’s guess.

***

Lucy awoke with a start. Her back was pressed up against Tarq, but her arms were wrapped around something else. Something warm and furry. Something that smelled like…
a
dog?

She opened her eyes a slit. Yes, it was a dog. A huge black and white long-haired dog that seemed very happy to have found a human to snuggle up with. Raising its head, the dog gazed at her with dark worshipful eyes, and then licked her nose.

Lucy sat up and looked around. She didn’t see anyone else but remained wary. “Please tell me you aren’t Fred’s dog.”

Yawning, the dog stretched and stood up, tail wagging.

“No, you couldn’t belong to Fred—unless you ran away from him. He’d never have such a nice dog.” She gave the dog a tentative pat on the head and turned to check on Tarq.

At first glance he appeared even worse than he had the night before, but then Lucy remembered that she’d only seen him in moonlight. In the harsh light of day, he looked… well… like three guys had kicked the shit out of him.

“Which isn’t surprising,” she muttered. After assuring herself that he was still warm and his heart was beating, she pushed back the blanket and got up. Rolling him onto his side, she reached into his pocket and found the tea bag and the firestarter. A fire during the night would have drawn anyone—or any
thing
—to their location, but during the day, she deemed it worth the risk. The dog trotted off while she was gathering dead wood for the fire but soon returned with a stout stick in its mouth.

“If you’re going to be
that
helpful, you need a name.” A quick check under the thick hair showed the dog to be male and collarless. “Hmm… I think your name needs to be… Rufus.”

Rufus cocked his head and dropped the stick.

“You want to play, don’t you? Sorry, but I have to take care of Tarq first.”

She aimed the firestarter at the pile of wood and pressed the button. Rufus let out a yelp as the wood ignited and bounded away. “Hmm… helpful, but not terribly brave.”

Thankful that the dry wood gave off very little smoke, she rummaged through her bag, found the trivet, and set it over the fire. After placing the pan of water on the trivet, she took stock of their provisions: two round loaves of bread, a sizeable wedge of cheese, six apples, a bag of olives, three oranges, and a big roll of salami. It had seemed like a lot when she was only planning for a few days on the road by herself, but for an unknown period of time in the mountains with Tarq, it was rather pathetic. Feeding Rufus was out of the question; he’d have to continue fending for himself.

When the water boiled, she poured some of it on a pair of her clean panties to wash Tarq’s face. After dropping the tea bag into the remaining water to brew, she got to work. His face was still so swollen that if it hadn’t been for his square jaw and pointed ears, she might not have recognized him. Unwinding the bandage from his head, she pulled off the pad. The bleeding had stopped and the wound seemed clean enough, but she washed it anyway. She replaced the bandage and wiped his face.
If
only
he
wasn’t so pale…

Gingerly pulling up his shirt, she surveyed the damage. He was black and blue on both sides and when she pressed her hand to his ribs, one section on his left side crunched beneath her fingers. Broken ribs could mean internal injuries, but there wasn’t a thing she could do about it except worry. Having cared for her mother during some of her more helpless periods, she knew that lying flat on his back for extended periods could cause even more problems, and though she was afraid to turn Tarq all the way over on his side, she tilted him slightly to the right and bunched the blanket up behind him to keep him there.

She breakfasted on tea with a little of the bread and cheese, thinking what a waste it would be if morning sickness were to suddenly strike her. After that, she scouted out the surrounding area and gathered up more firewood. Rufus apparently hadn’t gone far, for he soon returned, trying to interest her in a game of fetch. She obliged him for a short while but avoided talking to him as much as possible, knowing how her voice would carry.

The valley was quiet, almost desolate. Lucy was beginning to believe they were the only beings anywhere around until a few birds flew overhead and settled to the ground farther to the east. That the birds were able to go about the business of foraging without being disturbed was heartening. If Fred and his buddies were on their trail, the birds wouldn’t have been quite so nonchalant.

Taking the longer, less precipitous route to the stream, she carried more water up to their campsite. In her absence, Tarq hadn’t moved, so she turned him to his back. Though he remained unconscious, he appeared to have improved slightly. His color was better and the swelling in his face had lessened, but his ribs were still a bit crunchy. Rufus sniffed at Tarq, licking his cheek before stretching out beside him for a nap.

Lucy hadn’t had much opportunity to enjoy the peaceful solitude of her journey when she’d first set out from Yalka, but now she found herself doing the sort of thing Tarq had suggested—simply sitting by the fire and watching the day go by.

At first it was nice, but then it began to chafe to the point that she couldn’t sit still any longer. It wasn’t in her nature to remain idle—though idleness was something her mother and sister had taken to an artistic level—and the lack of available food was bugging her. Tarq would need to eat when he woke up, and if he didn’t wake up soon, there might not be anything left.

The idea of fishing returned to her, but there was no way she could think of— “You goonbait! You’ve got a pistol!”

The fact that she wasn’t any good at shooting wouldn’t matter; after all, she’d used a wide stun beam to take down the guy in the woods—Tuwain, his name was, if she remembered correctly. If she could do that, the stun would undoubtedly work on fish.