Three Times as Deadly

by Erin Wade

“That you are the most desirable woman I have ever met and that you scare the hell out of me,” I mumbled.

  She slid her hand to the back of my head and grabbed a fistful of my hair.

  “Ouch!” I squealed as she dragged me to the dresser and stood me in front of the mirror.

  “Look,” she commanded. “Who do you see?”

  My eyes were instantly drawn to Alex’s face; then I zeroed in on the gorgeous blonde next to her. I moved my hand to touch my face, and the reflection in the mirror emulated me. I touched my cheek, my nose, and my forehead. All my movements mocked me from the mirror.

  “You are my wife, Sloan.” Alex’s eyes pleaded with me to believe her. “The woman on the cover of the magazine, the woman I am married to, is you.”

  “I’m . . . you’re my—”

  Soft, demanding lips cut of my foolish babbling as Alex claimed what belonged to her.

  She moaned as I pulled from her arms. “Hold that thought.” I grinned as I wedged the back of a chair under the door handle so no one could open the door.

  “Now, that’s the woman I married,” Alex said, her voice thick with desire as I backed her onto the hospital bed.

  ##

  “Good God!” Alex said as she struggled to catch her breath. “You’d better let her in before she hacks down the door with that ax in the fire alarm box.”

  I gave my wife one last, wonderful kiss and then slipped from the bed. I waited until she grabbed her clothes and ran into the bathroom. I slipped on my shirt and opened the door.

  “Please tell me you haven’t done what I think you’ve done.” Sadie growled as she looked around my room.

  “And that would be . . . ?” I asked in my most innocent-sounding voice.

  “That you crawled into bed with wife number three,” Sadie said, glaring at me.

  “I can honestly say I did not crawl into bed with wife number three.”

  I jumped into bed with her as fast as I could. I tried to hide the satisfied grin that was spreading across my face.

  “Why wouldn’t the door open?” Sadie eyed the chair sitting nearby.

  I shrugged.

  With that, Alex strolled from the bathroom, looking like a million dollars. “Oh, hello, Sadie,” she said, feigning surprise. “I didn’t realize anyone was in here.”

  Sadie harrumphed and almost pawed the ground. For a second I thought she was going to attack Alex. Her dark eyes flashed from Alex to me, and then she whirled on her heel and stormed from the room.

  Alex looked at her wristwatch. “At least they left us alone for three hours,” she said. “Thank God for small favors.”

  “Uh-huh.” I sighed as I moved toward her.

  “We must be careful, darling.” Alex placed her hands flat against my chest, holding me back, but it didn’t last long. She collapsed against me as I pulled her into my arms. “Sloan,” she whimpered as our lips met.

  #

  Chapter 11

  At midnight Leigh stood and gathered her things. “I want to leave before Alex arrives,” she said. “I don’t think she likes me.”

  I chuckled at her understatement of the year.

  “Thank you for the hamburger,” I said. “That’s the best thing I’ve eaten in three weeks.”

  “Hospital food isn’t very tasty.” She looked pleased that I was happy with her offering. She leaned down to kiss me on the cheek then left the room.

  I threw on the jeans, shirt, and jacket Alex had brought for me. Alex knows my size. Alex knows everything about me.

  I pulled on the soft leather knee boots and fastened them securely. I pulled the Glock from under my mattress and slipped it into my waistband behind my back. I was careful not to touch the trigger. I wasn’t certain I would know how to use the gun.

  Sadie had checked on me ten minutes before. It was after midnight, and the lights on the floor were dim. I checked the nurses’ station; there was no sign of anyone. I slipped into the stairwell and hurried to the garage level. I was glad to learn that I could move fast without pain.

  I crept into the dark garage and looked around, my eyes adjusting to the dim lighting.

  “Sloan!” Alex hissed. “Over here, baby.”

  I followed the sound of her voice and located the tan-colored jeep she had rented. Alex was in the passenger’s seat.

  “You drive, baby,” she whispered as she kissed my cheek. “I have a map and will be the navigator.”

  I nodded. “Sexiest shotgun ever.”

  She squeezed my bicep as I shifted the gears and put the vehicle into motion. The cool breeze that greeted us as we left the garage was heaven-sent. Leaving the hospital was almost as good as escaping a prison.

  “I found this in the hospital,” Alex said as she pulled a leather bullwhip from the floorboard. “I knew it was yours. It has your initials on it.”

  “Umm, that looks promising,” I said, my face lighting up as my imagination kicked into gear.

  “You use it for self-defense, Sloan, not for fun.”

  “Seriously, am I supposed to know how to use that thing? I scowled as I fingered the soft leather. “Are you sure we don’t . . . .”

  Alex slapped my arm and laughed. “I am positive.”

  “I got a bush plane,” Alex said as she reached into the console. “This is the map showing where it’s hidden.” She cast the bright light of a small LED flashlight onto the map. “It’s hidden in some brush halfway between here and Johannesburg. It’s a three-hour drive. We should arrive before daybreak.”

  I nodded and drove carefully until we were outside Maputo. Then I drove the jeep as fast as the road would allow.

  “Why didn’t we pick up the plane from the rental agency?” I asked.

  Alex wrinkled her forehead in disbelief. “You really are out of it. No one would rent me a plane.”

  “How did you get one?”

  “I bought it,” she said. “Even that was difficult. I had to get cash from our home office and pay the manufacturer. There’s a travel advisory out on you. The authorities will arrest us if we’re caught trying to leave the country. They’ll imprison the manufacturer who sold me the plane if anyone finds out he helped us.”

  “What the hell?” I gasped. “You’re in danger too, Alex. You should have gone back to the States without me.”

  “Haven’t we shared the same hospital bed the last three nights?” she said. “You must know by now that I’d rather die with you than live without you.”

  I squeezed her hand and kept my eyes on the road.

  “We should be able to get onto the EN4 Toll Road at the next turn,” she said.

  “Good. We can pick up some speed,” I said, trying to sound enthusiastic.

  At one time, the EN4 had been a nice blacktop highway. Now it was full of potholes and suffering from chronic neglect. I was forced to keep the jeep in four-wheel drive.

  Somewhere along the way, a vehicle pulled in behind us. I watched it in my rearview mirror. It kept its distance, and I decided it was a tourist foolish enough to drive at night in this dangerous country.

  We had traveled about ninety miles when our headlights fell on a group of men gathered in the middle of the road. “Who are they?” Alex asked.

  “I’m not sure.”

  As we drew closer, I realized a ragtag gang of bandits were blocking the road. They were on foot and waving guns at us.

  “Keep your head down,” I yelled at Alex.

  There was no way I would stop. I shoved the accelerator to the floorboard and held my hand on the horn to let them know we were crashing through their human barricade. They scattered like bowling pins as we sailed past them.

  They must have been too surprised to shoot at us, and I maintained my speed until continuous potholes forced me to slow down for fear of blowing out a tire. A glance in my rearview mirror told me the vehicle that had been following us had fallen prey to the bandits. Poor bastards.

  We were within forty miles of our rendezvous spot when we encountered a highwa
y checkpoint. I slowed as we approached the lone officer manning the station.

  Alex pulled our fake identification papers from the front pocket of her backpack. The guard looked at the photos of us and then flashed his bright light into our faces. His evil grin made my skin crawl as he surveyed Alex’s face.

  My heart stopped. The guard had a gun, as did I—and I wouldn’t hesitate to use it. He walked to Alex’s side of the jeep and scrutinized her closer.

  “Come with me,” he commanded in heavily accented English.

  “No,” I said as I prepared to spring from the vehicle.

  “It’s okay.” Alex touched my arm as she opened the jeep’s low-slung door and stepped out.

  The guard pushed her to the other side of the guard shack, out of my sight. I put the jeep in park and reached for the bullwhip. I had no idea what to do with it. Maybe beat him to death with the stock.

  I stepped around the side of the building just as the guard slammed Alex’s back against the shack’s wall. As if possessed, I unfurled the whip and snapped it around the guard’s neck, the tip just missing Alex’s face as she ducked.

  I yanked hard and held the tension on the whip until the guard stopped struggling and collapsed on the ground. I pulled tighter until his eyes bugged out and his tongue lolled out of his mouth.

  “He’s dead,” Alex declared.

  “Yeah,” I whispered. I felt neither regret nor guilt, only joy that Alex was okay. I wondered how far Alex would have gone to guarantee our safe passage. “Let’s go.”

  An hour later we were circling the spot indicated on the map. “I don’t see a plane anywhere,” I grumbled.

  “It looks like a zebra,” Alex informed me.

  “A BushCat! You bought us a BushCat.” I wondered how I knew what the hell a BushCat was.

  Alex nodded.

  “Over there, through those trees.”

  I looked in the direction she was pointing and got a glimpse of something black and white.

  I drove under the low-hanging tree limbs and exhaled completely for the first time since leaving the hospital.

  I grabbed the bullwhip—my new best friend—and ran behind Alex to the plane. We hoisted ourselves up, and Alex tossed her backpack behind my seat.

  “Where’s the pilot?” I looked around. The BushCat was small. There was no room to hide anyone in the cockpit.

  “It’s a two-seater,” Alex declared. “You have to fly it, darling.”

  “Me?” I choked on my one-syllable word and swallowed hard. “I know nothing about flying a plane.”

  “You’ve been flying our planes for years,” Alex informed me. “You can fly this in your sleep.”

  My heart dropped to my stomach. “Alex, I can’t fly this plane.”

  “Just like you can’t use a bullwhip?” She gestured to the fine leather attached to my belt.

  “I didn’t have to use it two thousand feet off the ground.” I sucked air.

  “You better do something quick,” she yelled as she pointed toward a half-dozen government jeeps fanned out and headed our way.

  “Buckle up!” I shouted as I searched for a way to start the engine.

  I pushed all the red buttons to the on position. That just seemed like the right thing to do. Thank God there was a key in the ignition and a compass.

  I pushed a button that turned the propeller and frantically searched for a throttle. To my surprise, the throttle was in the armrest that was folded up beside the seat. I pulled the armrest down and pushed the throttle forward, causing the plane to taxi out of our hiding place. I prayed the small bush plane would stand up to a quick takeoff.

  I opened the throttle and shot in front of the government vehicles. After running full-throttle for about 250 feet, I pulled back on the control stick and prayed I had gained enough speed to leave the ground. The plane’s nose lifted a bit, dipped back down, and rose again. Then, much to my surprise, we were airborne.

  “I knew you could do it, Sloan.” Alex leaned over and kissed my cheek. I motioned for her to put on her headset so we could talk without screaming over the sound of the engine.

  “I’m not sure how far we can fly on a tank of gas,” I informed her. “If we land in any of the African countries, we are dead in the water. I’m sure that by now I’m wanted for murdering that guard.”

  I looked over the lightweight plane we were flying. “This thing is made of aluminum and cloth,” I pointed out. “We are basically in a motorized hang glider. Look around and see if you can find any information that came with it, like an instruction manual. I need to know if it uses regular gasoline—which I doubt—or jet fuel.”

  Alex found a large envelope containing instruction manuals, warranties, and part replacement information.

  “Sloan, I’m sorry,” she said into the headset. “I thought a plane would get us out of Africa.”

  “It would, honey, if we weren’t at the furthest tip of Africa, almost five thousand miles from the nearest non-African country. Madagascar is no help.”

  How did I know that? Things kept coming to me in bits and pieces. I was surprised memories of Alex weren’t flooding my mind. I squeezed her hand to let her know everything would be okay. Now, how do I deliver on that promise?

  “It says this plane runs on ordinary automobile gasoline,” Alex said as she flipped through one of the manuals.

  “Only the government and major cities in Africa have gasoline,” I said, my concern increasing by the second. “If we land close to any of those, we’ll be arrested.”

  ##

  Chapter 12

  We had been airborne about three hours when the sound of soft, steady breathing in my headset told me Alex was sleeping. God, she’s beautiful. I overcame the urge to reach out and touch her. I knew she was exhausted and needed to sleep.

  I climbed as high as the plane could withstand and killed the engine. I would use it as a hang glider. I alternated between catching updrafts and using the plane’s engine. I knew I could extend the distance we could go on a tank of gas.

  Without warning, Camp Elephant popped into my thoughts. What the hell is Camp Elephant? I tried to clear my head, hoping additional epiphanies would jump into my mind. Erindi. Erindi whatty? I struggled to pull additional information from my contrary brain. I failed.

  I had been flying for hours, and everything still looked the same. There was nothing but sand and the occasional oasis. Alex stirred as I looked at her lovely face. Her long eyelashes fluttered open like delicate butterflies. I wanted to lean over and kiss her.

  “Oh, Sloan, honey, I didn’t mean to go to sleep and leave you alone.” A contrite look clouded her beautiful face.

  “You didn’t miss anything. Alex, does the name Erindi mean anything to you?”

  She furrowed her brow in thought. “No.”

  “What about Camp Elephant?”

  “Camp Elephant?” She searched her memory for a minute, and then her eyes lit up. “Yes, right after we married you did a documentary on ivory traders. I went with you. We stayed a month at a place called Camp Elephant in the Erindi Private Game Reserve in Namibia.” Excitement filled her voice as she found answers to my questions.

  “Tell me about it,” I said.

  She shook her head as if trying to shake loose memories. “There were twelve or more camp shacks—they called them chalets—that meant they had running water for a shower. We loved it. The camp management knocked on our door the third day to make certain we were okay.”

  “Were we?” I frowned.

  “We were wonderful,” Alex said, a warm blush spreading across her cheeks. “We just didn’t want to leave our chalet and interact with the rest of the world. The wildest animal I encountered during our stay was the one in my bedroom.”

  I grinned from ear to ear, quite pleased with myself—though I couldn’t recall a single moment of our time there.

  “Would you recognize the chalets if we fly over them?”

  “I think so,” she said. “It was an unforgett
able month.”

  “I think I am flying over the reserve now,” I said, distraught that I couldn’t recall the memories I’d made with Alex.

  We flew in silence as we watched for any sign of a campsite or buildings.

  “It was near a large watering hole,” Alex said. Thirty seconds later, she grabbed my arm and nearly bounced from her seat as she pointed to a semicircle of shacks about a hundred yards from a watering hole below us. “There, Sloan! There it is.”

  The BushCat coughed and sputtered. “Not a minute too soon.” I exhaled, unaware that I’d been holding my breath.

  I caught a wind draft and glided into the open desert behind the campsite.

  “What do you hope to find here?” Alex asked as we deplaned. She carried her backpack, and I carried my bullwhip. We were a pair.

  “Gasoline—or even better, a jeep.” I caught her hand as we walked toward the campsite. “Do you have any cash?”

  She patted the backpack. “That’s all I have in here.”

  “Awesome.” I leaned down and brushed my lips across hers.

  To my dismay, no one was at the campsite. It was off-season. “Looks like a ghost town,” I muttered.

  “Maybe we can take a shower,” Alex said, her face beaming, as if a shower would solve our problems.

  “Have I told you how much I love you?” I laughed.

  “Let’s take a shower, and you can show me,” she said as she tugged me toward the nearest chalet.

  For a moment, I forgot the dire situation we were in and thought only about showering with my wife. It was easy to jimmy the lock on the chalet door. White sheets covered everything. Alex ran to the shower and turned on the water. Nothing happened.

  “I’ll check outside. I bet there’s a cutoff valve,” I said, eager to wipe the look of disappointment from her face.

  Just as I’d hoped, I found the valve behind the building and turned it on to allow water to run into the shower.

  We took a cold shower then fell into the bed, content to forget about the outside world for a little while.

  ##

  I lay beside Alex, trying to catch my breath. She snuggled into me. You’re so soft and yet so strong,” she murmured as she kissed the top of my breast.