by Gerri Hill
“So…you’re from Seattle,” Corey said. “Picked a hell of a time to visit your parents, didn’t you?”
“It wasn’t exactly planned,” Dana admitted. “I was running from a marriage proposal.”
Corey turned her head to look at her. “Oh, yeah? Your girlfriend popped the question?”
Dana nodded. “Kendra. Although I don’t know that I ever actually called her my girlfriend,” she said. “We’d been dating about six months. I guess I didn’t realize we were going steady.”
Corey laughed. “So the proposal took you by surprise.”
“I nearly passed out from shock.” When Corey asked no further questions, Dana asked one of her own. “Where are you from?”
“Utah, currently.”
“Really? I mean, that was your story when you were, you know, camping.”
“Still true.”
“Are you from Utah because you’re stationed at the army base there or are you really from Utah?”
“Army brat,” Corey said. “No place is home.” She shrugged. “Every place is home.”
“That didn’t answer my question.”
“Yes, I’m stationed there. And no, I don’t live on base. I rent a little cabin out in the foothills.”
“So is there a Mrs. Captain in the picture or some little captains running around?”
Corey laughed again. “No and no.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t like kids.”
Dana’s lips twitched in a smile. “Lots of Mrs. Captains then?”
“God, no. I’m career military,” Corey said. “All of my time and energy has been devoted to that.”
“Surely you have a personal life.”
“My team is my…” But she stopped, not finishing her statement.
“Your team is what?”
“Nothing.”
The silence lingered again, and Dana could feel the tension in Corey’s body. She wondered what had brought that on. Perhaps Corey didn’t like to talk about herself. Some people were fiercely private and she could respect that…under normal circumstances. This, of course, was hardly a normal situation.
“So is your team out here somewhere too?” she asked after a while.
“No.”
“You said they were sending in—”
“There’s a unit on foot, yes. They’re not my team,” Corey said, her words clipped and measured.
Dana blew out her breath, then tried again. “What about your family? You said you were a military brat. Where are they now?”
Corey turned her head slightly and looked at her. “Why all the questions?”
“You started it,” she said defensively.
“So I did.” She paused. “My father was killed in Iraq about ten years ago. My mother has remarried and lives in Atlanta.”
“So not a military man?”
“Not even close.”
Dana could hear the bitterness in her voice and wondered if it was because she didn’t like the man or just the fact that her mother had remarried. Some children, after losing a parent, couldn’t understand how the other parent could go on with their life and find another partner to share it with. She assumed Corey felt a sense of betrayal.
“You’re an only child,” she guessed. “Right?”
She felt Corey relax a little. “Right. And I know what you’re thinking.”
“Is it true?”
“Yes. I’ve gotten past it, though. We’re closer now.” When Dana would have asked another question, Corey turned around. “What’s with all the questions?” she asked again.
Dana smiled at her. “I’m trying to find something I like about you.”
Corey gave a quick laugh. “I thought we were kindred spirits. Don’t we have a secret bond or something?”
“It’ll take a little more than that, I’m afraid.”
“Okay. So tell me something about you.”
“Such as?”
“Something other than running from a girlfriend you didn’t know you had,” Corey said. “Brother? Sister?”
Dana nodded. “One of each, both older. Cathy lives in Denver, she’s ten years older. James is in San Francisco, seven years older.”
“Close?”
“To James, yes. We’re kindred spirits, using your words,” she said with a smile, picturing her brother’s handsome face. “He doesn’t come back home, though. My parents, while they’re okay having a lesbian daughter, they have yet to accept that their only son is gay.”
“So he’s not allowed back?”
“No, no. It’s not like that. It’s just very awkward, uncomfortable…for all of them,” she said. “So their relationship is mainly over the phone. I see him a couple of times a year, though, and we talk often.”
Dana glanced up ahead, wondering if Butch could hear their conversation. Butch was the only one in his family who treated James the same even after he came out. The others, well, much like her parents, they couldn’t accept it. James was a big guy, a football player in high school, a handsome boy who the girls had flocked to. He kept his secret until he left for college. He spent one year in Boulder, then headed off to California. She’d been too young to really understand what it all meant, but she remembered her mother’s tears. That’s why, years later, when she discovered the truth about herself, she’d been terrified to tell her parents. She’d been afraid of the tears.
“What about your sister?”
Dana sighed. “We’re not close. She’s on her second marriage. He’s fifteen years older than she is. He’s very conservative, very Republican. And he found Jesus, so he’s apparently one of the chosen ones and the rest of us aren’t.”
“I imagine he’s not too fond of you then.”
“I don’t speak to him,” she said. “Cathy and I talk on the phone once, maybe twice a year. It’s superficial only. She tells me about her life and her kids and I listen. We don’t talk politics or religion…and we certainly don’t talk about my personal life.”
“Can’t say I blame you, I guess. But I’d always wished for siblings. Especially after my father died. I felt…well, it would have been nice to have a brother or sister to talk to,” Corey said.
“You mean when your mother remarried?”
“Yeah. Then.”
Before Dana could ask any other questions, however, Corey gave Gretchen a gentle kick, picking up their pace to catch up with Butch…and signaling an end to their conversation.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Jean had just come in the back door by the kitchen, her basket loaded with the vegetables she’d picked from the garden, when Lucky started barking. She tilted her head, listening. It wasn’t his normal bark when company came over. This was a ferocious warning bark that he would normally give to a stranger. Jean placed the basket of vegetables on the counter and hurried through the house to the front door. Her eyes widened as she saw Hal walking up. She frowned slightly as he approached. There wasn’t even a hint of a limp from his bad back. Maybe this trip had been good for him.
As he got closer, she saw a dark stain on his shirt. Blood? She pushed open the screen door and hurried out toward him. Lucky intercepted her, still barking his fool head off.
“It’s okay, boy. It’s only Hal,” she said, reaching out to touch Lucky’s head. Lucky’s barking ceased, replaced with a low growl in his throat. Jean noticed that the hair across his back was standing on end.
“What in the world happened to you?” she asked as Hal walked up to her. “Where’s Daisy?”
Hal seemed to be a little disoriented, and Jean wondered if he was badly injured. He shook his head slowly.
“Who?”
“Daisy…our horse,” she said. “Where is she?”
“Back there,” Hal said with a toss of his head toward the barn.
Jean took a step closer to him. He smelled like he hadn’t bathed in days, which she supposed was true. “Are you okay?”
He said nothing, only stared at her.
“You hav
e blood on you, Hal.”
He frowned. “Blood?”
“Yes. On your shirt. On your jeans.” She reached for his hand to lead him inside. “Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up.”
She was surprised when he pulled his hand away.
Lucky growled again and circled Jean as if protecting her. “What’s gotten into him, I wonder?” Jean turned to Hal. “I’m glad you’re back, but you stink. Those are the same clothes you left here in. I put a change of clothes in your pack.” She headed into the house. “I’ll run you a bath, if you want.”
As soon as she got to the screen door, Lucky started barking again. She turned around, shocked to see Hal lift a leg and kick at him. She’d never once seen him raise a hand to the dog before.
“Hal?”
“Make it stop,” he said, pointing at Lucky.
As Jean looked into his eyes, she felt her blood run cold. That wasn’t her Hal looking back at her.
“Lucky,” she called quickly, patting her thigh. “Come here, boy.” Lucky came toward her and leaned protectively against her leg. “You must be hungry,” she said to Hal, her words measured. “You want your favorite? Got that liver already thawed out. I can make a meal real quick,” she offered. “I know how much you love liver.”
He nodded. “Okay.”
She turned and headed inside, coaxing Lucky to follow. The dog had never set foot inside the house before, and he hesitated, looking at her questioningly.
“It’s okay, boy,” she said softly, tapping her thigh again. “Come with me.”
He finally followed her in and she let the screen door close, leaving Hal on the porch. Her heart was hammering in her chest so fast she feared she would have a heart attack and drop dead right then and there. She took several deep breaths as she tried to slow her racing heart.
Hal hated liver. In fact, the only time she’d fixed it, shortly after they married, he’d gotten physically sick. It had been a joke with them over the years, her threatening to fix liver for his supper whenever he went against her wishes…which was not often.
She heard the screen door open and she turned, watching as Hal came inside and shuffled toward her. Lucky growled low in his throat again and Jean put a steadying hand on his head, trying not to be frightened.
“Clean up?”
Jean pointed to the back door of the kitchen. “Outside,” she said. “At the well pump.”
Hal followed her direction and went out the back screen door. She watched through the window as he studied the old pump for a long moment before lifting the handle. Lucky had gone to the door and was watching through the screen, his low growl telling Jean all she needed to know.
“I don’t know what’s going on, Lucky, but that’s not my Hal out there,” she whispered. “But you already know that, don’t you?”
Her hands were trembling as she reached for the handle to the fridge. She’d turned the generator off earlier, trying to conserve their fuel supply. There wasn’t much left in the fridge anyway, but the freezer still had plenty of meat. Since Hal had been gone, she hadn’t bothered with cooking a meal, eating sparingly instead. She’d anticipated him coming back yesterday and she’d taken out some pork chops to thaw. She pulled them from the fridge now, thinking she could fry them up real quick. She wondered if he would even know that they weren’t liver.
They were already sizzling in the pan when Hal came back in. She again stared at the blood on his shirt, then quickly averted her eyes. He pulled out a chair and sat down at the table. It wasn’t his chair but the one she normally used. Lucky was pressed against her leg and she plunged a hand into his fur, trying to calm herself down. Maybe something had happened…maybe Hal had lost his memory.
Her hand was trembling as she plucked two chops from the pan and put them on a plate. She had nothing else prepared—no potatoes, no vegetables. She handed him the plate and he took it without saying a word. She felt tears well in her eyes. In all the years they’d been married, he had never forgotten to compliment her meal. She moved to the drawers and pulled out a fork and a knife for him. When she turned around to offer them to him, she saw that he had simply picked up the chop with his hand and begun eating.
She continued to stare, unable to pull her eyes away from this man at her table…this man who looked like her Hal.
“Eat,” he said gruffly, pointing at her empty plate.
She nodded and took a chop from the pan. She sat in the chair that Hal normally used and used the knife to cut a piece. She wondered if he noticed her hands trembling as she tried to eat. She jumped as he stood up, frightened, and Lucky growled again. Her nerves calmed a little as he went to the stove and took the last remaining pork chop out of the pan with his fingers and brought it back to the table.
She glanced over to the corner by the kitchen door where the shotgun usually stood. It wasn’t there and she panicked. Then she remembered…she’d taken it with her that morning to the barn when she’d let the chickens out for the day. She must have forgotten to bring it back in. She didn’t know if she had anything to fear from him, but she was frightened nonetheless.
She got up slowly and took her plate over to the sink, hoping he wouldn’t notice her uneaten pork chop. “I need to tend to the chickens,” she said. “I forgot to put their feed out.”
She didn’t look back as she went out the kitchen door. Lucky ran beside her, beating her out. She walked faster now, heading toward the barn. She heard the screen door open behind her and she glanced over her shoulder, seeing Hal following her. She started running then, as fast as she could. Her hands were shaking so badly she could hardly get the barn door opened. It was dark inside and smelled of hay and manure. She went to the corner stall where the chickens roosted at night. Her eyes darted left, then right, as she tried to remember where she’d put the shotgun that morning. A couple of chickens came in from the outside, hoping for another handout of feed.
Lucky barked behind her, and she turned, seeing Hal standing in the doorway of the barn, the sun shadowing his features as he came toward her.
She moved backward, hands held up as if to ward him off. When his eyes pierced hers, her knees nearly buckled from fright. Those weren’t Hal’s eyes. She wasn’t even certain that they were human.
Lucky’s barking turned vicious as Hal neared, and without looking, Hal kicked the dog, sending him tumbling across the ground with a wounded yelp.
He came closer, close enough for Jean to notice the sour smell that clung to his clothes.
“Hal…don’t,” she pleaded, her voice cracking with fear. “Please…don’t.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
“And we’ve heard nothing from her?”
Sutter shook his head. “No, sir. But Duncan’s on his way. He briefed Conaway. He’s also coordinating the squad that went in after she did.” Sutter avoided the stare of Harry Brinkley as he went to his door and opened it. Duncan was just entering the outer room and he motioned him inside.
Duncan immediately came to attention and saluted. “General Brinkley, sir.”
“Lieutenant Duncan,” Brinkley said. “At ease.”
“Yes, sir.” Duncan looked nervously at Sutter before turning his attention back to the general. “I wasn’t aware you were on base, sir.”
“You weren’t supposed to be,” Brinkley shot back. “Captain Conaway. Any contact from her?”
“No, sir, not since we dropped her off. She was able to send one communication, nothing since.”
Brinkley sighed heavily, and again Sutter wondered at their relationship. “Okay, brief me on the squad that was deployed.”
“Of course, sir. Yes, twelve men. As you know, we compared satellite images from the last month or so. We think we’ve located the wreckage. It’s in a very remote area…but it’s on federal land, not private.”
“Yes, that’s the first good news we’ve had,” Brinkley said. “Go on, Lieutenant.”
“Communication is a challenge. In lieu of batteries, we’re using a device—a tr
ansmitter—that is powered by a direct-current solar feed. But since we don’t know what’s taking out the power grid or the batteries, we’re not sure how these will function inside the zone.”
“How long before they reach it?”
“We hope to hear something today, tomorrow at the latest, sir. They were dropped off at the checkpoint at 0900 Tuesday. We still had communication with them an hour later, nothing since.”
“So your solar transmitter didn’t hold up? Captain Conaway is using this as well?”
“Yes, sir. They’re equipped with tracking devices too, but we’ve not been able to get a signal. The squad that went in, sir, we’re monitoring by satellite. They have flares to send up when they find the Black Hawk.”
“Okay. Any luck finding this…meteor?”
“No, sir. We’ve spent hours going over satellite images. Nothing, sir.”
“And what’s the latest on the power outage? Any update?”
“No, sir. We do know the extent of the outage zone, though, based on their meter feedback.” Duncan glanced again at him and Sutter motioned for him to sit. He looked like he was about to pass out.
“The power company is on standby, sir,” Sutter said. “Since they’re not having any complaints from their customers, it’s been easy to get them to wait. I thought it best to keep them out of the zone. They start bringing trucks in that become disabled…well, it won’t take long for that to get out.”
Brinkley nodded again, but his stare was intense. “We don’t want to cause a panic. Our focus right now is finding the helicopter and her crew. If not for your decision to send her up in the first place, we would be concentrating on what took out the power grid instead of on this search and rescue. You better pray it was only a meteor, Colonel.”
“Of course, sir,” he said dutifully. “I take full responsibility for this situation.”
“Yes. The Secretary is aware of that fact, Colonel Sutter.”
Sutter wondered if Brinkley meant that statement as a threat. If he did—and the Black Hawk and crew were indeed lost—Sutter had no doubt his next assignment wouldn’t be a cushy Stateside gig. A hot, desolate desert base, no doubt. He had enough left of his sense of humor to find that thought ironic. Their base here in southern Utah wasn’t exactly a tropical paradise.