by Shayla Black
“When did you last drink water? Eat? Did he feed you regularly?”
“He gave me one meal and two bottles of water a day. I haven’t eaten yet today.”
“So he provided enough to keep you alive but not well hydrated.” Axel cursed, then let out a deep breath. “We can work with that.”
“Well, I drank the bottles then refilled them in the little bathroom sink. It’s disgusting, but I knew that if I tried to escape alone through the desert that I’d need to stay hydrated.”
He grabbed her shoulders. “Good thinking. You have to use your head to survive this climate.”
She nodded, every muscle in her body weak, even those in her neck. She felt like a bobble head. Then she remembered that he wanted a verbal response. “Yes, Axel.”
“Anything else?”
“He drugged me every night so I couldn’t escape.”
Axel tensed. “Any idea what he gave you?”
“No. He injected it. It made me sleep for half the day, sometimes more.”
“Any side effects?”
It wasn’t what he said or even how he said it, but something about the tight set of his mouth told her that everything her captor had done to her had really pissed him off. That made her feel better. If he was indignant on her behalf and concerned about her health, maybe he really was one of the good guys.
“No. I mean, I’d wake up groggy, but it would wear off eventually.”
“No drug cravings?”
That hadn’t occurred to Mystery, but she was damn glad the asshole hadn’t given her anything she might become addicted to. She shook her head. “No.”
“I don’t want to hurt or scare you, but I need to give you a quick medical exam.”
She frowned. “Why wouldn’t we just call the authorities now? Get away from here and let them take me to the hospital?”
“I wish it were that simple. Let me check you over, then I’ll explain.”
There wasn’t a hospital, some police, an explanation—and her father—in her immediate future? Based on what he’d said, she didn’t think so. That filled her with anxiety again. “What do you mean, not that simple?”
“Hey, no need to worry. Let’s tackle one issue at a time. The first thing I need to know is if you’re all right.”
“I’m conscious. I’m talking. I’m walking. And I want to go home.”
“I know, Mystery. I’d love to take you there. But with my two teammates dead, that presents some complications.”
Oh, wow. She hadn’t stopped to think of that. And what must Axel be feeling, losing two people he considered his . . . what? Coworkers? Friends? To help a woman he didn’t even know. “I’m sorry. W-were you close?”
His jaw tightened and he looked away. “It’s not important right this minute. I need to focus on you.”
Her father had once starred in and directed a military film about soldiers in Vietnam in a harrowing situation, against almost impossible odds. He’d actually interviewed a bunch of soldiers at her house, and she’d eavesdropped. She remembered them talking about the necessity of compartmentalizing until they dealt with the situation that needed immediate attention. Once everything was secure and they were alone, they would deal with whatever they’d shoved to the recesses of their mind . . . hopefully. Some never did; they simply locked their grief or stress away in a mental box tightly and threw away the key. It was why things like PTSD and suicides cropped up in the military community so often. Even those who dealt with it or got help sometimes still found it too overwhelming and couldn’t cope.
“If you were close to them and you’re upset, I . . . I know you don’t know me, but I’m willing to listen and help.”
Something in his face changed. A faint surprise registered. Apparently, he was used to being the hero. Didn’t anyone ever try to save him?
“That’s very kind, but the first thing I need to do is my job. You’re my primary responsibility. The other two soldiers were both my backup and provided essential elements to the rescue. Carr, the one in the exploding ATV, was our comm officer. When everything went up in flames, so did our ability to communicate with the outside world.”
Meaning that he didn’t have a way to just call the police to come out and whisk them back to Beverly Hills? He didn’t have a way to ask her father to come get her?
“You don’t have a cell phone?”
“Sure, I do. But there isn’t a nearby town or even a highway. In terms of mobile communication, this is all a dead zone.”
“So . . . I guess we’re walking to your jeep or chopper or whatever you came here in?”
His entire body tightened as he shook his head. Mystery got the distinct impression that he was doing his best to remain calm and not show any fear. That worried her more than anything.
“Alvarez, Carr, and I came in on a HALO jump. We didn’t leave behind a vehicle in case it could be detected.”
Sure, she’d heard the word, but she had no idea what it meant. “HALO?”
“High altitude, low opening.” When she frowned at him in confusion, he rubbed at the back of his neck. “We jumped out of a plane at thirty thousand feet. A plane at that altitude mimics a jetliner. By keeping the opening low, we don’t make waves on the radar. So just in case anyone is monitoring the airspace around here, it wouldn’t look out of the ordinary.”
She’d never thought of that. It had never occurred to her they wouldn’t just drive in with a small cache of weapons and do their thing. “Oh.”
“So the downside is, we have no vehicle. And since we lost our comm gear in the explosion, we’re going to have to hike our way to civilization.”
“The asshole holding me prisoner told me we’re surrounded by miles and miles of desert.”
“We’re smack in the middle of the Mojave. This is Death Valley.”
It was some of the most unforgiving land in all of North America. She remembered learning that in school after one of her classmates in high school had gone on a camping trip with some buddies and their rock climbing equipment had given out, leaving him stranded in a ravine. He’d dehydrated in the desert in less than twenty-four hours.
She tried to swallow back panic. “Do you know the fastest way to civilization?”
“Yeah. We’re looking at a fifteen- or twenty-mile trek southwest. But we have to be prepared for the conditions of the desert and to climb a few mountains. So the first thing I need to do is to examine you.” He took her hand. “Because I’ve got to be honest. Your skin is a little clammy.” He pressed two fingers to her carotid artery. “And your pulse is a little fast and weak. I need to make sure you’re just emotionally distraught rather than going into shock because of an injury. Will you let me check you out?”
Mystery understood clearly that if she wanted to see her father and home again, she was going to have to walk her way out. “Yes, Axel.”
He shrugged the pack off his back and took out a stethoscope, taking a quick listen to her heart and lungs. After a moment, he nodded as if satisfied before checking her blood pressure.
“One-forty over ninety-five. It’s high.”
Was he actually surprised by that? He stared as if he expected a reply. She just shrugged.
With quick efficiency, he attached a little device to her finger next.
“What is that?” Mystery frowned.
“A pulse oximeter, which measures the saturation of the oxygen level in your blood. I can also see your pulse rate.” He held her wrist in his enormous hand and stared down at the device. A frown wrinkled his brow before he smoothed it away. “Your oxygenation is on the low side, your pulse a bit high.”
“I’m more than a little freaked out.”
“Fair enough. I’ll check you again in a few minutes. Have you come into contact with any rusty metal or anything that might cause tetanus?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Any deep cuts that might need stitching or scrapes that need dressing? Infection isn’t your friend in the wild.”
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nbsp; In silence, she showed him a scrape on her elbow and one on her thigh, just above the hemline of her fraying dress. Without a word, he doctored them with some antibiotic ointment and covered them with gauze, his hands surprisingly gentle, despite their size. Then he paused and looked directly into her eyes. “The police equipped me with a rape kit. I need you to be honest with me. Should I administer it?”
“No.” She swallowed and shook her head. “Thank God, no. H-he threatened but didn’t . . .”
“That’s good,” he said in a soothing voice. “That’s really good. So you’ve prepared bottles of water?”
She showed him the canvas duffel and the eight full bottles she’d stashed inside. “Two of these are fresh.”
“That’s good thinking. Any food?”
“Just before you came, he left me a ham sandwich and an apple in a paper bag.”
“We’ll grab it. Do you have any shoes?”
“Stilettos.” She winced, then looked to the shoes she’d long ago discarded in the corner. Prada wasn’t doing her any good in the desert. “But I found this.” She held up the scrap of burlap. “I thought if I could find a rope, maybe I could rip this in half somehow and tie one around each of my ankles and—”
“It’s a good thought, but that’s not enough protection. Stay here.”
Axel stood and grabbed his rifle, positioning it for action as he slipped out the door of the shack. On shaking legs, Mystery stood and watched him creep across the desert to the body of his first fallen comrade. He knelt, keeping the rifle directly beside him, and snagged the man’s backpack, slinging it over one shoulder. Moments later, he lifted Alvarez in a fireman’s carry and headed back for the shack.
What was he doing?
She had her answer moments later when Axel stepped through the front door and eased the body of the fallen soldier onto the floor. Blood stained the man’s T-shirt around the fatal wound open in his chest. Axel’s face looked tight, his jaw clenched. Mystery’s heart went out to him.
With methodical precision, he stripped off his friend’s boots and tossed them her direction. The man’s socks came off next and followed in an arc across the shack. “Put them on.”
“They’ll be too big,” she blurted.
He zipped a stare in her direction, his blue eyes cool and demanding. “They’ll protect you from the hot sand and possible snake bite.”
Mystery hadn’t even thought of that possibility and she felt so stupid. She’d been completely unprepared to survive in the desert. Maybe not a surprise since she’d been dressed for nightclubbing, not roughing it. But the fact that she didn’t have the first clue how to take care of herself out here, that she had to rely so totally on this stranger who had just lost two of his fellow soldiers, that she had no idea how to shoulder some of his burden, disturbed her.
Rather than argue or squirm at putting on boots that had just come off a dead man, she drew the socks over her bare feet. They were still warm.
Beside her, Axel removed Alvarez’s jacket and set it aside, then grabbed the old duffel she’d stuffed. He dragged out the burlap scrap and gripped both ends in his meaty hands. His biceps bulged and his chest bunched, his strength obvious. The heavy fabric tore in half. She swallowed. Her heart skipped at the realization he could squash her like a bug. Again, she had to hope that in her desperation to be rescued, she wasn’t trusting the wrong man. But her instincts said he’d do what it took to get her to safety.
Without missing a beat, he tore one of the scraps in half again and shoved a piece in the toe of each boot. “Now put them on. They’ll still be too big, but walking through the sand will be exhausting enough. The more easily you’re able to walk, the less taxing it will be.”
She nodded, then remembered his request. “Yes, Axel.”
“Good.” He watched her, his gaze hawkish, missing nothing.
No doubt he saw her hands shaking because as soon as she’d slipped her foot into the first boot, he took her ankle in his big hands and straightened her leg, lacing it up with a few twists of his fingers and a couple of firm tugs. Mystery watched, fascinated. He moved so quickly and economically for such a huge man. No lumbering or fumbling. Axel was incredibly proficient, and she was so grateful in that moment.
He repeated the process with the other boot, then looked her way. “How do those feel?”
“Fine,” she said hoarsely.
With a satisfied nod, he got to his feet and offered her his hand. “Stand for me.”
Mystery stared, looking up his forearms roped with muscle, his strong biceps, his huge chest, up to a face that could have looked so harsh. But the understanding there made her tear up again.
She brushed the wetness from her chapped cheeks, sniffed her reaction away, then took his hand. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be. Adrenaline crash. We’ve all done it. That’s probably why you’re shaking, too. If you feel faint, let me know.”
“I’ll be fine.” She had to be. Mystery was determined not to let him down.
Without another word, he helped her to her feet. Her legs shook, and she felt as if she stood on wet noodles. But she drew in a deep breath. She’d suck it up and pull her weight. If they wanted to survive, she didn’t have a choice. Two innocent men had already died to save her, and she’d carry that guilt forever. She didn’t want Axel to suffer any more.
After another check of her blood pressure, pulse-ox, and pupils, he nodded. “Better. You good to go?”
“Yes.”
He re-stashed his medical equipment, then picked up Alvarez’s pack, shoving in the water bottles she’d saved before he tested its weight in his hand. With a frown, he drew his own off and handed it to her. “This one is lighter. Carry this as long as you can. If it gets to be too much, I’ll take it back. Let’s go.”
Mystery gaped at him, looked back to Alvarez’s fallen body, then out the shack’s little window. “We’re not . . .” Burying him? Where? With what shovel? Yeah, stupid question, so she swallowed it down. “Shouldn’t we wait until morning?”
“You said your captor worked alone, but he admitted that someone hired him?”
She nodded. “He never said who.”
“If he doesn’t check in with his boss soon, someone else might come out here to find you. I’d like to be long gone before that happens. As it is, we’re only going to have an hour or so before dark and we’re going to leave tracks in the sand. If we can be a few miles from here by nightfall, I’ll rest easier, knowing that we’ll be harder to find.”
Right. Again, he’d thought of things she should have. If she hadn’t been terrified and exhausted, if she’d had time to consider their quandary, she might have come to the same conclusion. But extenuating circumstances aside, Mystery felt as if what she didn’t know was holding them back.
“I understand. I’m ready. I’m strong. I can walk all night if we need to.”
“We might have to,” he said grimly. “I don’t love that idea, but I’d rather take my chances against the coyotes and mountain lions than the direct sunlight. My sunscreen is limited. We’ll use less water and energy if we sleep during the day and walk at night.”
Mystery understood. She wanted to ask how they’d know where they were going in the dark, but for the foreseeable future they’d just be walking in a general direction, she supposed. Maybe he’d been trained to follow the stars or something.
“That makes sense.”
Axel nodded, then knelt to his fallen friend, bending to close his unblinking eyes for the final time. “Bye, buddy. I’m sure as hell going to miss you.” He lifted Alvarez’s hand and drew off his wedding ring. “I know you’d want Rose and the baby to have this.”
Her heart sank. This man had been married and had a child. And he’d never see them again because she’d been stupid enough to be out at night where she shouldn’t have been, then unable to escape the man who’d held her prisoner.
“I’m so sorry . . .” She could barely get the words out past her broken voice.
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Axel stood again, clearing his throat. He pocketed the ring, his expression locked up tight. “Let’s go.”