Desert Guardian

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Desert Guardian Page 14

by Duvall, Karen


  "Okay, Cody," he said to the coyote sitting beside him. "I'm leaving you here while I go fetch Kelly."

  The animal whined and nudged Sam's elbow with his nose.

  "I can still use your help." He scratched Cody behind the ears. "Since we can no longer resort to old Sheriff Longbottoms, I have a new plan."

  He took a fanny pack from his duffel bag and clasped it around the coyote's neck. The small pack contained his .38 Special revolver along with extra ammunition and a pocketknife. He lifted a dog whistle to his lips and pretended to blow. "Remember this?"

  The coyote angled his head as if he’d just heard a shrill noise.

  "That's right. It's a whistle that only you can hear. If I blow it, that means I need you."

  Sam slipped the whistle into the pocket of his jacket. He holstered his Glock and transferred most of his smaller supplies from the duffel to his inside jacket pockets. He sucked in a breath, and the electric charge of anticipated danger danced through his veins. God, how he loved his job.

  Clad all in black to camouflage him against the night, he started down the ridge toward Star Mother's camp.

  ****

  Kelly's back stung as rivulets of sweat trickled into the cuts made by the canvas belt. She had thought her belt would make a good weapon and never considered it being used on her instead. Lucky for her she was spared the buckle end. The wielder stood a few paces back and out of sight, awaiting his next command from her torturer.

  "Where is The Arrow?" Valya asked, her voice a monotonous drone. She'd repeated the question so many times that it had become a mantra inside Kelly's head. "The beating will stop once you tell me. Save yourself more pain by telling me the truth."

  "I have told you the truth," Kelly murmured, her throat raw with thirst. She wished Sam were here, and she now regretted her attempt to save Jake on her own. She licked her lips and said weakly, "The last time I saw Sam he was at his cabin in Big Bear."

  "Liar!"

  Kelly winced against the lashing sure to come, but it never did. Perhaps her ragged breaths had warned them to stop, because one more lash of the belt and she would pass out. Unconscious, she'd be of no use to Valya.

  "This is pointless," Valya said with a sigh. "I'd just as soon kill her now, but I think her brother is in need of some company. It will do him good to see the result of his disloyalty."

  Kelly blinked the sweat from her eyes and lifted her head an inch, as far as it would go. The tension across her shoulders had become excruciating. Tear-blurred eyes veiled her view of Valya, but she saw enough to know the woman was relaxed in her role. She must do this often, probably believed it her job to inflict pain on whomever she considered weaker than herself.

  "The little girl," Kelly said, her words more like gasps. "Sam's?"

  Valya smiled and rubbed at the bandage on her wrist, the same wrist Kelly had cut with her earring. Too bad it hadn't been deep enough to hurt more than Valya's pride, making her very, very angry. "You mean Lynette? Yes, Sam is her father, but she belongs to me."

  "Sam... has a right... to know he has a daughter."

  "Sam lost all rights to anything having to do with us the day he left." Valya stepped closer and bent low to bring her face within inches of Kelly's. "Why do you care?"

  Kelly lost the strength to keep her head up, and her chin banged against the rough plank of wood she'd been strapped to. The dry desert air that tickled the cuts on her back felt cool, yet heat filled her head as if with fever. She didn't want to answer any more questions. All she wanted was sleep.

  Valya kicked her lightly in the thigh. "Open your eyes and keep them open. There will be no sleep for you tonight."

  "But I... I'm so tired."

  Valya moved out of Kelly's line of sight and said to someone in the room, "Clean her up. The cuts aren't deep, so just wipe them down with antiseptic and wrap her in gauze. I don't want infection to set in. Star Mother expects her people to be clean on their interstellar journey home."

  "I'm not..." Kelly inhaled sharply as pain stabbed through her back. "I don't belong to your Star Mother!"

  "Not yet," Valya said, her silky tone belying her cruel nature. "But you will. And you'll soon be begging Her forgiveness."

  Kelly wagged her head weakly, her stomach churning with nausea and fear. "Never."

  Valya tsked with disapproval. "We'll see about that. In the meantime, I have just the thing to perk you up."

  A cup was shoved to Kelly's lips and her head forced back. Feeling the cool wetness on her tongue, she gulped eagerly until the bitter liquid hit the back of her throat. She tightened her lips against the foul fluid, but her mouth was pried open, and she was forced to drink.

  "That should make you feel better, dear," Valya said sweetly. "It may even open your mind to new and wonderful possibilities."

  Kelly spat out what she could. "What did you give me?" she asked, panic making her heart pound.

  "Just a little of my special elixir to help clear your mind."

  Someone unstrapped her from the board then forced her to her feet. Dizziness overwhelmed her. It could have been due to pain and fatigue, or possibly from the drugged drink forced down her throat.

  Eyes bright with curiosity, Valya reached for the purple pendant dangling from around Kelly's neck. "What's this?"

  Kelly lurched back from her touch but bumped against the unyielding sentry who held her arms still. "It's nothing."

  The cult matriarch grabbed the pendant and yanked it free, breaking the silver chain in the process. She held it up to study. "Cheap little bauble, eh? You'd think Sam could afford something classier than this rusty old thing for his new girlfriend."

  Kelly's jaw tightened, and needle-sharp rage pricked the backs of her eyes. Heat flushed her face, and she watched Valya's slow grin as she acknowledged Kelly's anger.

  "Give it back!"

  Valya swung the necklace in front of her face. "Want it?" Her lips pulled back from her teeth in a sinister grin. "Then take it."

  Watching Jake's precious gift being contaminated by that heartless bitch was almost more than Kelly could take. Helplessness overwhelmed her, defeat bringing the sting of tears to her eyes. She tried to blink them back, but one spilled from the corner of her eye.

  Valya saw it and laughed. She laughed so hard she had trouble catching her breath, and Kelly prayed she would choke because of it. The older woman whipped her wrist around and casually caught the pendant in her palm. All signs of humor vanished from her face as her expression changed to a look of pure hatred. She blindly tossed the necklace behind her and said, "Burn it."

  "Bitch," Kelly managed, though it sounded more like itch because her lips were numb. Her heart had become numb, too. Was it Valya's tainted drink or something else that made her want to shut down?

  Shoulders drawn stiffly back and chin held high, Valya turned her back on her and sauntered out the draped doorway of the tent.

  Kelly was tugged forward, forcing her off balance. A pair of strong arms caught her before she could fall. Her shirt, or rather Sam's shirt, swung in tatters at her sides, but at least her bra was still intact. A sentry had searched her before strapping her down, and he’d removed not only her belt but also the pocketknife from her jeans. She had no idea what they'd done with her wig, not that it mattered now.

  Gritting her teeth against the pain in her back, her legs buckled beneath her, and she was dragged the rest of the way outside the tent.

  It was full dark now, and a bare bulb lit the way to yet another tent, the smell of rubbing alcohol permeating the air inside. She guessed it was an infirmary of some kind. Was this the same tent where Sam's mother had been taken to die? The thought sent an icy chill across her stinging back.

  Kelly was stretched out, face down, on a cloth-covered table. She struggled to push up with her hands, attempting to swing her legs over the side and run like hell, but all she managed was to shove one knee over the side. Someone gently pushed her leg back onto the table then pressed her shoulders down t
o hold her still.

  "Please," Kelly said, holding on to the panic that made her feel something at least. "Let me go."

  The person standing over her remained silent. Deft hands peeled aside the remains of her shirt then swabbed her back with something wet and pungent. The cuts stung, but not too badly. She imagined herself more bruised than sliced up, though she couldn't see for herself.

  "Who's there?" She struggled to turn her head, but her neck was stiff and wouldn't go very far. "I want to see you, to thank you for being gentle with me."

  Someone moved to stand before her, and Kelly wasn't surprised by who she saw. "Please, Consuela. Help me."

  The woman who was once Sam's patient only smiled down at her, an expression of pity on her face. She moved out of sight.

  "This is wrong, Consuela," she said. "Valya's told you nothing but lies. There is no starship riding the tail of Anston's comet. There is no planet called Atria on the other side of the universe. Everyone here is going to die tomorrow, and for nothing. Do you understand?" She could have said more, but the short speech left her breathless.

  Consuela's hand smoothed the hair at the back of Kelly's head. Kelly waited anxiously for her to help her off the table, but nothing happened. Another pair of hands, large and rough with calluses that scraped her bare arms, pulled her up to a sitting position. Consuela had been replaced by one of the sentries, a thin man with a graying beard, his brown eyes vacant as he looked her over. She noticed his pupils were no bigger than the head of a pin.

  The sentry half-dragged, half-carried Kelly from the tent to one of the trailers. In spite of the dusky night, the aluminum sides shone with spots of reflected light coming from a campfire in the courtyard. The light seemed to waver and ripple then move across the trailer's surface.

  There was a tingling at the back of her head and numbness in her mouth and fingers. These sensations must be the result of whatever drug was in the drink she'd been given. She had to fight it in order to think clearly enough to plan an escape.

  The sentry pushed her roughly into the trailer, and she recoiled at the stench inside. It stank of perspiration, urine, and other bodily excretions. She held the tattered shirt to her nose as she was pushed down to a sitting position against one wall. Straining toward the still-open doorway, she gulped in breaths of fresh air, scooting as close to the door as possible before being yanked to the wall again. Both her wrists were secured with metal handcuffs, and then she was left alone. The door swung shut, leaving her in total darkness.

  A scuffling sound at the back of the trailer caught her attention. "Who's there?" she asked, unable to keep the tremble from her voice.

  Her ears rang with the silence before she picked up a low buzzing sound, like static from a poorly tuned radio.

  "Kelly, is that you?"

  Her heart stopped. "Jake? Jake, are you in here?"

  Mournful sobs rose above the droning buzz of the radio.

  "Jake, are you all right? Have they hurt you?"

  The sobbing stopped, and Jake said, "Kelly, I'm so glad you're here."

  A wave of relief washed over her. "I've come to take you home."

  "I know," he said, his voice hoarse. "We'll go home together."

  She wished she could see him, to assure herself he was well. "I'll do everything I can to get you out of here, Jake. I promise."

  There was a moment's hesitation before he said, "Why would I want out? You and I are going home tomorrow. We'll be leaving our bodies behind to travel across the universe to our new home on Atria."

  The hairs on the back of Kelly's neck stood up, and she almost stopped breathing. Valya had managed to undo all she'd done to convince Jake his father loved him and wanted him home. She had to make him see the truth, to show him the mistake he was making. She refused to give up on him. And she refused to be added to Valya's list of willing suicides.

  Chapter Ten

  Sam lay hidden beneath the largest trailer, a tire blocking him from view. He'd been waiting for a sign of Kelly's capture and had just witnessed her being dragged to the prison trailer. Many years ago, while in his early teens, Sam had spent a fair amount of time there himself. An offense as minor as stealing saltine crackers from the kitchen tent would have had him imprisoned by nightfall. He remembered the abysmal, stinking metal box with no windows, and his mouth went dry.

  If he didn't get her out of there soon, Kelly might never rid herself of the nightmares guaranteed to plague her for years to come. He knew from experience how confinement in total darkness without food and very little water could wreak havoc on the human psyche.

  Damn Valya and her pathetic freak of a husband. He should have put an end to Star Mother's operation years ago, but after his mother's death he had made it a point to have nothing more to do with the cult. The memories were just too painful and his temper far too volatile. He felt confident that he'd never again fall victim to Star Mother's spell, but just being this close to the woman responsible for killing his mother... He sucked in a breath to calm himself. Though it turned his stomach to be here, it was the only way to permanently sever the connection to his old life. And the only way to save Kelly.

  He could tell from the way she had been dragged to the trailer that she'd been hurt, probably whipped, which was one of Valya's favorite methods of punishment. He gritted his teeth against the fury building inside him, his anger a mounting darkness that threatened to take over his mind. But he couldn't let it win. His thoughts must remain clear if he was to save Kelly, as well as her brother, if he wasn't already dead.

  The campfire had been doused, and only a few stragglers remained in the courtyard to pick up trash and clear away cooking and eating utensils that had been left behind. He crouched low while circling the outside perimeter of the camp, seeking out any cars that might chase them down once they escaped. After removing the serrated hunting knife from the sheath on his belt, he slashed the tires of every motorized vehicle he could find, including the motorcycles.

  The two generators brought him up short. From his days with Star Mother, he recalled countless family meetings when the method of transport had been discussed. Carbon monoxide from the running engines was how Valya planned to end the lives of her followers. Valya and Von wanted the group's suicide as bloodless and painless as possible so as not to frighten the children. Everyone would be drugged, and then poisonous fumes from the generators would fill the communal tent as they slept. Transformation from body to spirit was promised as a peaceful transition, and all of Star Mother's people would float invisibly through the sky to the starship hidden behind Anston's comet. It was a delusion that would bring only death.

  Sam studied the homemade generators, which consisted of two old car engines and various other automobile parts. All he had to do was find the spark plug wires and either cut them or yank them free. But the generators were still running, powering lights and appliances throughout the camp. He'd get caught if he tried turning them off now, so he would wait until all lights were out and everyone was asleep.

  As he approached the prison trailer, he saw a sentry climb inside. He knew the drill. They had drugged Kelly with hallucinogens to make her open to suggestion then given her stimulants that would prevent her from sleeping. They would work on her mind all night, cajoling and punishing, teasing and hurting, until she finally saw the world through their eyes. But Sam wouldn't let things get that far.

  Every muscle in his body was coiled to strike, and it was all he could do to remain still, waiting. Someone might be watching for him. That he hadn't immediately come to Kelly's rescue must have had everyone wondering if he'd show up at all. Good. That's just how he wanted them to think, but he remained cautious just the same.

  Five minutes passed. The sentry left the prison trailer just as the main communal tent fell into darkness, followed by a blackout in the remaining campers. The bare bulb lighting a path between the old infirmary and the judgment tent flickered out. No moon shone in the inky sky, but a dusting of stars glittered across t
he heavens.

  In the far distance, just above the horizon, glowed the bright tail of Anston's comet.

  "Damn," Sam whispered, then caught himself and took a quick glance around to make sure no one had heard. Seeing the comet had triggered a peculiar emotion deep inside him, something like reverence. He shook it off, recognizing it for what it was: a leftover from his Star Mother conditioning.

  Ancient history.

  The air was lightly tainted with an odor of gasoline from the generators. He peered through the ebony darkness, uncertain if he could locate the generators' spark plug wires without light. He had a pen light, but switching it on now would attract every sentry in camp. He had to rescue Kelly first.

  He darted to the prison trailer steps and hunkered down beside them. A strip of turquoise and black flannel lay on the ground beneath the trailer. It had come from his shirt, the same shirt Kelly had been wearing just before she left him that morning. He brought the cloth to his nose and inhaled her powdery scent that harmonized so well with his own. A well-blended scent, just like the two of them.

  The smell brought back his memory of their lovemaking. Nothing about her had escaped his thoughts since the moment she’d left him that morning. He sucked in a sharp breath. Concentrate, damn it. He couldn't allow himself the luxury of daydreams while she suffered alone in darkness. He had to get her out of that stinking trailer before she lost her mind.

  Sam checked for any movement among the shadows. Finding none, he stood to press his face close to the trailer's aluminum door. He swallowed then whispered, "Kelly?"

  He heard her scoot closer to the door, then a clank of metal against the trailer wall. He winced, realizing she was handcuffed.

  He tried calling to her again. "Kelly?"

  "It's a trick, it's a trick, it's a trick," came her soft-spoken response, each word tripping over the other in a slur of drugged speech. "Not here. No-no-no-no. Not here. Sam is not here, he's just in my head."

  "I am here, Kelly." He ran his hand along the trailer wall with futile hope it would comfort her. "I'm here to get you out."

 

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