“Mother!” Eric shouted. “Come now. Quick!”
Travis spun around, pointing the rifle directly at Madeline Lloyd’s stomach. “You’ll start back for the Visitors Center, Mrs. Lloyd,” he hissed. When she hesitated, his voice exploded. “Now! Move it!”
She reached out for Becky and Lori, who had both started to cry, and the little group started back in a dazed, stumbling run. For a moment Eric nearly threw himself at Travis, the rage in him boiling like molten lava, but the helicopter was coming fast now, skimming across the top of the water toward them. As quickly as it had come, the rage was gone, and his mind raced over his alternatives. He yanked Nicole hard against him and backed up. “So much for your loving fiancé,” he hissed into her ear. “Stay with me, Nicole. If I have to fight you, you’ll get hurt.”
“Let her go, Eric. I’m warning you.”
“Please, Eric,” Nicole gasped. “Let me go. Don’t hurt me.”
But Eric was too busy swinging her back and forth to answer. He kept her moving, keeping her between the muzzle of Travis’s rifle and the muzzle of the stun gun held by a Guardian hanging out the doorway of the helicopter. Dick opened fire from behind them. The clattering roar of the engine drowned out any noise from the shot, but suddenly the window of the chopper exploded in a shattering spray of glass. Eric had a fleeting impression of a terror-stricken face, and then the helicopter peeled off sharply, seeking escape from the attack.
Travis stopped dead, his eyes wide with shock. “Hey!” he screamed.
At that moment a second shock wave rippled through the canyon. Cliff had just dropped the tree across the road from above.
Eric dragged Nicole backwards again. “Sorry, Travis. There goes your second source of help.”
Like a raging bull, his face contorted with fury, Travis whirled around and ran to the door of the elevator shaft. At point-blank range, he fired at the lock Eric had clipped into place, then kicked the door in. Instantly, orange-clad bodies came pouring out like popcorn spitting from a popper.
“Hold your fire! Hold your fire!” Travis screamed at them. “He’s got Nicole. Form a line. Take your positions.” He grabbed a man by the shoulder. “You! Get the Lloyd family back to the Visitors Center.”
By now Eric was in a half run, pulling Nicole back with him, and was nearly thirty yards from Travis.
“Stop, Eric, or we’ll shoot!” Travis had formed a skirmish line with his men and was moving swiftly toward him. The Guardians held no stun guns now, only deer rifles.
Eric knew that Travis’s threat was a bluff. They wouldn’t dare shoot with Nicole in the way, but why hadn’t Dick opened fire on the Guardians pouring out onto the dam? Then in a flash he understood. His family was just starting to disappear around the curve of the dam, out of the line of fire.
“Form a line! Stay behind me!” Travis waved his men into position behind him. “Don’t shoot. The others are coming. They’ll cut him off.”
Eric watched his family go around the curve of the retaining wall. Now! It was an inward shout, but as though Dick Andreason had heard it, the flat crack of a rifle, followed swiftly by another, burst out from behind him. The man next to Travis gave a sharp cry as the bullet slammed into him, cutting him down like a scythe.
“Under fire! Under fire!” Travis’s warning was totally unnecessary, for the orange-suited Guardians were already scrambling wildly for cover. But the top of the dam offered no cover, not from the vantage point of the hillside where Dick sat. The third shot sent another Guardian thudding off the retaining wall.
“Let’s go!” Eric shouted, grabbing Nicole by the arm and breaking into a pounding run for the west end of the dam.
Travis fired at them twice, but the shots were wide and high, and Eric knew he was still afraid of hitting Nicole. He risked a quick glance back as they ran, and saw the earlier scene reversing itself. The only cover on the top of the dam was the elevator tower, and the open doorway was sucking men back into it like a concrete vacuum cleaner. Off to his left, up the lake, the clatter of rifle fire split the mountain stillness. One seventy-year-old man had locked battle with two squads of Guardians.
By the time Eric got off the dam and dragged Nicole up to the ridge where Dick Andreason was methodically firing at flashes of orange, both he and Nicole were gasping for breath. As he released her arm, she dropped to the ground and rolled into a ball, holding her stomach.
“We’ve got them pinned down for now,” Andreason said. “But Cliff won’t be able to delay those others for too long. We’ve got to get out of here.”
“I’ve got to go help Cliff,” Eric blurted between breaths. “Watch Nicole.”
But as he got back up to his feet, their radios blared simultaneously. “Eric, this is Rod. Can you hear me?”
He jerked up his radio. “Yes, this is Eric. Go ahead.”
“They’ve brought your family back into the Visitors Center. If you could draw off the troops to your side of the dam, we think we can get to them.”
The surge of exultation that flashed through him was like a jolt of electricity. “Understood. We’ll do our best.”
“We have a stun gun, but right now the men are afraid to go out on the dam when you command the heights. Get them to come to you—it looks like the Major will leave only a man or two with your family. We’ve held our fire so far, and they have no idea we’re here.”
“Good work!” Eric exclaimed. “We’ll draw them to us.” He turned to Dick Andreason. “All right, Cliffs on his own for now. We’ve got to make it look like we’re falling back so they’ll come after us. Shoot once or twice more, then hold your fire. Let them come clear to the edge of the dam, if necessary, before you open fire. Then we’ll engage them long enough for Rod and Chet to get clear.”
Dick stood up. “Eric, you’ve got to get Nicole out of here. Take two of the horses. I’ll cover the dam.”
“No!”
“Eric, don’t be bullheaded.”
Stubbornly he stood his ground. “Not until I know about my family.”
Andreason held up the walkie-talkie. “Eric, by the time you reach the spot where you left your horses, you’ll still be in radio range. If Rod and Chet can get them out, you’ll know it. If they don’t…” He shook his head. “Cliff and I will stand a better chance of getting away if we don’t have you two.”
He was right, and Eric knew it. “Okay. Good luck.” Eric turned and reached for Nicole’s elbow. She was still lying on the ground, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she tried to get her breath from the hard run. “Come on, Nicole. One shout and I’ll gag you, out of breath or not.”
“No, Eric. Please. I can’t. I can’t go any further.”
“You can and you will,” he said firmly, pulling her up and putting his arm around her to support her. “It’s only a hundred feet, then the horses will do the work. Come on!”
Eric had just released their lathered mounts and was untying their own horses when the radio at his belt burst out again. “Eric, this is Rod.”
He swung up the walkie-talkie. “This is Eric. Have you got them?”
“That’s affirmative, Eric,” came the jubilant cry in his ear. “We’re away and clear. We’re headed up now and hope to get another half an hour or more head start before they even know we’ve gone.”
Eric’s head dropped momentarily, and the breath went out of him in a great whoosh of relief. “Thank you.”
“You are most welcome! See you at Home Base. Over and out.”
His arm slowly lowered until the radio hung limply by his side. When he finally looked up, he saw Nicole watching him. “They got my family out,” he said.
She nodded. “Believe it or not, Eric, I’m glad.” Then she turned and walked quickly to her horse and untied the reins. As she put her foot in the stirrups and started to swing up, the horse shied a little, and she lost her balance, nearly falling. She moved to try again, and Eric strode over and took her elbow. “Here, let me help you.”
She spun
around as if he had laid a hot iron on her arm. “Don’t you touch me!”
Eric jerked his hand away in stunned surprise. Tears had spilled over and left wet streaks down her cheeks, but her eyes were twin sparks of emerald fire behind the glossy shininess.
“I was just going to help you up,” he apologized.
“Don’t you understand?” she shouted at him through the tears. “I hate you. I hate what you’re doing. To me, to my city, to everyone you touch. Now leave me alone!”
She gave the reins a vicious yank, tried to mount again, this time successfully, and sank her heels into the mare’s flanks.
“All right, Miss Lambert,” he snapped, swinging up onto his horse and yanking on the lead rope of the packhorse. “Have it your way. But I don’t think I’m the only one you’re angry with right now.”
Chapter 23
Eric watched Nicole climbing out of her sleeping bag and gave her a tentative smile. “Good morning.”
She nodded curtly, still bitter from the day before. “May I have my shoes, please? It’s very cold.”
He scrambled to his sleeping bag, retrieved her shoes, and tossed them to her, then sat down on a stone next to the creek. “Sorry,” he murmured. “I wish I dared make a fire, but the mountains will be crawling with company today.” When she didn’t answer, he looked up at the sky. “The sun will be high enough soon to take off the chill.”
Nicole slipped into her shoes without looking up, then tied them with an angry yank. She stood up and ran her hands through her tousled hair, her back turned on him.
“Nicole,” he ventured, “look, I’m sorry about yesterday. I—”
She spun around. “Are you?”
“Yes.” He took a deep breath. “Yes, I am.”
“Then let me go!”
He shook his head slowly. “I can’t, Nicole.”
“Your family is free!” she cried, clenching her fists. “You can let me go now!”
Eric stood up. “Cliff hasn’t come back to the camp yet. They think he was caught.”
Her head shot up in surprise; then her eyes narrowed into angry slits.
“And so it goes, huh? Everytime your little revolution loses somebody, Nicole is dragged back up the mountain.”
Her fury was suddenly so intense that she no longer trusted her voice. She grabbed her tote bag and, without so much as a second glance, stalked off toward the creek.
“Nicole,” Eric called as she disappeared into the trees. “Don’t forget to shout every minute or two.”
He gave her a full five minutes before he called the first time. By then she had washed and was pulling a brush through her hair with short, angry strokes. His voice floated through the trees, almost lost in the gurgle of the stream.
“Nicole,” he added after his third call, “I know you’re angry. But if you don’t answer now, I’ll have to come down there.”
“Go ahead,” she muttered, stuffing her brush back into her bag.
“Nicole!” His calls were coming more rapidly and sounded louder now. “I’m not playing. Either you answer or I’m coming down.”
“Don’t bother,” she said to herself as she stood up and picked up her bag. Suddenly her eyes widened. What if you do come down! The thought nearly took her breath away. Quickly she scanned the ground and found what she was looking for: a stout tree limb with a thick protrusion on one end. Her heart pounding, she dropped her bag and snatched up the limb. It was heavy, and she clutched it tightly to steady the trembling in her hands. She looked around quickly, then darted up the trail a few feet and ducked behind the thick trunk of a towering spruce. As she raised the club high in the air, her eyes widened in terror. Cricket! What if the dog came around the tree first and started wagging her tail? Nicole felt her knees go weak as the crunch of Eric’s feet could be heard coming through the trees. Cricket gave a sudden yelp, and Nicole heard her crash off through the forest, barking wildly.
“Be quiet, Cricket!” Eric hissed, now only a few yards above Nicole. “You’ll have every man on the mountain after us over a stupid rabbit. Nicole, don’t you be stupid either.” He was muttering to himself now as he came down the trail. “If you’re trying to run away, I’ll—” Both his words and footsteps stopped simultaneously, and Nicole knew he had spied her bag on the trail.
With an exclamation of surprise, he leaped past her hiding place and crouched down to look at the bag. She took two steps forward and swung the club down, putting four days of frustration, pain, and bitterness into the blow. The knobby end of the limb caught Eric above his right ear. With a sharp grunt, he sprawled forward, crashing onto his face.
Nicole flung the club away, turned, and ran blindly up the path. Not until she had gone fifty or more feet did she get a hold on her panic and pull herself to a halt, leaning against a tree to catch her breath. As she stared back down the path, she straightened slowly, exultation shooting through her. Eric hadn’t moved. She had done it! She was free!
For a moment Nicole nearly turned back to see how badly she had hurt him and to get his pistol, but then panic hit her again, and she broke into a run back toward the camp.
Eric had left the horses saddled in case they were discovered by Guardian patrols and needed to move swiftly. Now she murmured a quick thanks for that. She undid the halter rope of the packhorse, slapped its rump sharply, and yelled. The horse leaped forward in fright and bolted off through the trees.
In an instant she grabbed the rifle from Eric’s sleeping bag, untied the other two horses, swung up on the mare, and, yanking on the reins of Eric’s mount, dug her heels into the mare’s flanks.
By the time she had dragged Eric’s horse through the heavy timber for over an hour, Nicole decided he wouldn’t be able to find it again. She emptied the food and extra ammunition out of his saddlebag and shooed the horse away to fend for itself.
Two hours later she heard the helicopter. At first she felt it as much as heard it. When the pulsating waves became the distinct roar of an aircraft, she gave a cry of joy. Swinging down quickly, she wrapped the reins of her horse around a tree limb and ran toward a large area where the trees were widely scattered and the brush was low. But before she reached the clearing, the helicopter came in at about five hundred feet, almost directly overhead. She screamed and yelled and waved her arms wildly, but she was still in a fairly thick stand of trees, and the helicopter swept over her and was gone.
With disappointment so sharply bitter it almost made her choke, Nicole slowly lowered her hands and turned back. “Hey!” Her mouth dropped open as she saw her horse, frightened by the pounding noise, disappearing through the trees, taking her bag, the rifle, her food, and her transportation with it. She leaped forward, dodging branches and jumping over logs in a wild attempt to catch it. “Come back here!” she screamed.
For a maddening half an hour she tried to recapture the horse, but every time she got within thirty or forty feet of it, the wildeyed animal bolted headlong into forest. Exhausted, on the verge of tears, afraid that Eric was conscious now and looking for her, she finally gave up and let it go.
With a moan that was half pain and half pleasure, Nicole peeled off her socks and thrust her throbbing feet into the icy water of the stream. Wearily she lay back on the grassy bank and closed her eyes, letting the sun, now full of afternoon heat, beat on her face. The warmth soothed and relaxed her, and for the five-hundredth time she cursed her stupidity in tying the horse so carelessly.
In the three hours since she’d lost the horse, her feet had felt every rock, every twisted root, every uneven stump and log she’d stumbled over. Soon after the horse bolted, Nicole had found a small creek and followed it downward. It joined another creek and then another until it formed a small, turbulent river, now a good fifteen or twenty feet across. Three times she had had to ford streams, and her wet socks and tennis shoes only added to the misery of her feet.
She thought about Eric. She had no doubt he would try to find her. She was certain he could track the horses, b
ut she’d been on foot for the past three hours. That would make it far more difficult, if not impossible. And even if he could do it, it would certainly slow him down considerably. He’d be at least two hours behind, perhaps three or four.
Nicole sighed, telling herself to get up and race the night and the man coming after her, but her body rebelled, and she decided that she had a right to pamper it for once. She closed her eyes again and thought only of how good the sunshine and the cool water felt.
Nicole awoke with a start and lifted her head, looking around wildly until her eyes focused on the river and she remembered where she was. She sat up with a jerk, and her hands flew to her cheeks, feeling the hot, sunburned skin. She squinted up at the sun and gave a cry of dismay. It was noticeably lower. Perhaps an hour, maybe an hour and a half, had passed since she had lain down.
Berating herself for her stupidity, she reached for her shoes and socks, but her hand froze in midair. A loud crash in the underbrush off to her right was clear and distinct, and with a start she realized that that was the sound that had awakened her. She scurried the few feet to the nearest clump of brush and dove into the foliage, her heart pounding furiously.
For a moment she heard only a curious shuffling sound, then the distinct noise of something heavy moving through the brush. Suddenly she went deathly still. It was not Eric. From around a thick clump of mountain-currant bushes, a massive brown shape lumbered into view, sniffing at the ground. Though it was still nearly forty or fifty yards upstream, the golden-tipped fur, the jutting front shoulders, and the square snout were clearly visible. It was not just a bear—it was a grizzly!
Not daring to move, Nicole watched in horror as the animal stopped and stripped several branches of their berries, then pried up a rock as big as a bread box with ease, looking for grubs. If it smelled her—she shuddered. For the moment the wind was blowing downriver, carrying her scent away from the grizzly, but in a few more yards the animal would be close enough to catch her scent no matter how the wind blew. It splashed into the river, looking for fish, and turned its back on Nicole’s hiding place. Gently and with infinite care she backed out the other side of the bush, giving her shoes and socks one last longing glance.
Gerald N. Lund 4-In-1 Fiction eBook Bundle Page 44