The girl scowled up at him. "That's not a potty. That's a tree."
"I know. I use trees all the time."
Eyes wide, she whispered, "You do?"
"Every chance I get." There was something about this kid that looked familiar. Something about her round, gray eyes framed by thick dark lashes. Even her baby-doll face reminded him of someone he used to know quite well. His heart gave a jolt. She reminded him of his mother.
Feeling unnerved, he nudged her toward the tree then stopped her by the shoulders and asked, "What's your name?"
"Lynette."
"Hi, Lynette. I'm Sam."
"I know who you are," she said sweetly, grinning up at him. "Mommy told me all about you. You're my daddy." Then she skipped off toward the tree, hiking up her nightgown along the way.
Sam gaped after her in stunned silence. Her daddy? How...? So surprised by the child's announcement, he was hardly aware of standing out in the open, in full view of everyone searching for him.
When had he fathered a child? A surge of nausea gripped his throat. He did the math, considering Lynette's age and the one and only time he'd ever slept with Valya. Five years ago, while his mother lay dying of arsenic poisoning, Sam had succumbed to Valya's seduction. And as his mother died, his daughter had been conceived. A fitting irony, but it would take some time to wrap his mind around the possibility.
His mood switched from bemusement to shock, which immediately morphed into anger. How dare Valya keep such a secret from him? His daughter, his own flesh and blood, raised by a circus of whacked-out zealots who not only believed in UFOs but had booked a flight on one.
His heart took a plunge as realization dawned. He'd seen the flaming tail of Anston's comet over the horizon, which meant the entire Star Mother cult would attempt mass suicide tomorrow. Within a few hours, tomorrow would be here, and the comet's journey across the sky would condemn the cult's followers to death.
He had come here to save Kelly and her brother, and now his own child's life lay on the line. Sam was more determined than ever to bring Von and Valya down and to set every single one of their people free.
Lynette. He had to get her now, keep her safe—
Brisk footsteps pounded up behind him, and before he could react, the stinging blow of something hard and sharp slammed against the back of his skull. His knees buckled, and his last thoughts before blacking out were of Lynette, the beautiful dark-haired child who looked so much like his mother.
Chapter Eleven
Sam cracked open his eyelids and blinked at the bright light aimed in his eyes. He had one hell of a headache, but his ribs hurt more. And so did his groin. The last thing he remembered was getting conked a good one on the noggin, then nothing.
"He's coming around," came a throaty female voice from above him. Sam's blood ran cold with recognition of that voice, its silken tones having cajoled him into an act he'd regret until the end of time.
"Please tell me this is a nightmare." Sam groaned and tried to lift his head, but pain forced him back to the sandy mat beneath him. He turned his face away from the light shining in his eyes. "Hey, enough with the light."
The flashlight winked out. "No concussion. And I don't believe any ribs are fractured, just bruised. I'd need an x-ray to be sure."
"Doc? Is that you?" Sam squinted up at the bald black man with dark eyes set deep within a face heavily creased with age. Doc had treated him often in his youth. "Long time no see."
Doc stared at him coldly then looked away to peer vacantly at the tent wall, as if he could care less about Sam or his injuries. "I could tape his chest, but I don't see the point."
"You don't need a point if I tell you to do it." Valya stood tall and regal, her glossy white-blond hair plaited in a perfect braid down her back. She hadn't aged a day in the five years since Sam had seen her last. Glaring at Doc, her glacial blue eyes let him know who was in charge. She sighed and waved the old man away. "Never mind. Go back to your trailer. You have a lot of work to do before tomorrow."
Doc glanced at his watch. "You mean today."
Valya squinted in irritation at the man. But Sam couldn't blame old Doc for getting in a last dig before the curtain closed on his last performance as an MD. After all, today was the last day of the rest of his life.
Ignoring Valya's quiet display of temper, Doc snatched up his doctor's bag and ambled out of the tent.
"You don't seem to have the same impact on people that you used to," Sam told her. "Lost your touch?"
She swiveled her gaze at him, her pallid, waxy skin appearing alien in the hazy lamplight. But it was an electric lamp, not gas, which told Sam they had already repaired at least one generator, possibly both.
Valya's brows rose when she noticed his interest in the lamp. "You never were mechanically inclined, Sam."
His attempt at a wry smile made him wince. He ran his tongue over his swollen upper lip before saying, "What I lack in mechanical expertise I make up for with my fists."
She chuckled. "Is that so? You look awfully beat-up for someone who boasts of being a good fighter."
He frowned and touched his bruised ribs. Rage simmered just below the surface, and he hoped their banter would buy him a little more time. He had no idea what she had planned for him, but whatever it was wouldn't be healthy, at least not for him. Offering her a narrow-eyed gaze, he said, "Yeah, well, it seems I was sucker-punched while I was down."
Valya crossed her arms and paced a slow circle around him. "You're lucky I stopped him from going any further or you'd be dead right now. He said he was settling a score."
"Uh-huh." One of sentries he'd tricked as a kid held a grudge. Paybacks were a bitch. "I suppose I should thank you for saving my life, but my life isn't worth much at this point."
"Oh, on the contrary. Your life is worth a great deal. To me."
"Despite the fact that it's about to end."
She shook her head. "Sam, you're as ignorant as ever. Death on this planet means life ever after on Atria."
Sam grunted. Play along and don't show her how pissed you really are. He pretended to look bored. "You still believe in that crap?"
Anger flickered in her eyes. "I was so hoping to convince you before the final hour, but I'll take your reluctant Essence with me to Atria anyway."
He wasn't about to argue with a madwoman. What would be the point? Years ago, the two of them had beaten that dead horse until it didn't look like a horse anymore. Come to think of it, that argument had earned him a beating.
Each of his hands were bound and staked out to his sides, as were his feet. He was shirtless and stretched out like a windmill. His jacket was nowhere in sight. Thank goodness he at least had his jeans and boots on.
"Where's Kelly?" he asked.
"You know very well where she is. You even paid her a visit."
For what good that had done. Then there was Consuela's betrayal, which only added salt to the wound of his misfortune. Worse yet, he could have prevented this whole sorry mess if he hadn't let issues from his past get in the way of good judgment. He had accused Kelly of being a whore to settle her debt. How stupid was that? He should have known she'd go off half-cocked and take matters into her own hands. It was her nature. She had risked her life to save her brother, and it was his fault.
He had to know if Kelly was all right. "Is she safe?"
"Of course she's safe. I'm not a barbarian, Sam." Valya sniffed. "I have my limits. And she's in good company."
Trying not to sound too eager, he said, "I want to see her."
Valya tsked. "That's not possible."
He groaned with frustration. "The least you can do is stop drugging her. If she has to die, let her do it with dignity." Though he'd never let them kill her.
"I don't like the word 'drug.' It sounds so... clinical. I prefer 'elixir' since the combination is my own special recipe. I've improved it, you know. I added a little something extra to enhance the experience and make it more enjoyable."
A pang of conc
ern sharpened the headache still pounding inside his skull. "What kind of 'extra?'"
"Don't worry, it's nothing lethal. Just a bit of liquid morphine to take the edge off." Valya offered him a slow smile that made his skin crawl. "All my people love the stuff. In fact, they can go a little crazy if they don't get their daily dose. Kind of like Jake is now."
And Jake was in the prison trailer with Kelly. Sam yanked at his bonds, the ropes digging into the flesh around his wrists and ankles.
"Ah-ah-ah," Valya said. "Struggling won't do you any good. You'll feel more relaxed once you have a taste of my new elixir. Doc mixed up a special batch just for you."
Sam staved off the panic that pricked the skin at the back of his neck. If forced to take Valya's onerous brew, it was over. He'd be unable to function. He and Kelly, as well as Jake and Lynette, would be screwed.
As if on cue, little Lynette toddled into the tent rubbing her fists into her eyes. "Mommy?"
Sam gawked at the child as he caught his breath. She was so small and sweet and beautiful. And most amazing of all, she was his.
"Lynette, dear," Valya said. "You should be in bed. We have a big day tomorrow."
Sam watched the little girl yawn—his little girl—before she said, "I have to say goodnight to Daddy first."
Valya let out an exasperated sigh. "Daddy isn't feeling well. We should leave him alone until he feels better."
Lynette shuffled her pink bunny-slippered feet closer to him and knelt at his side. Her eyes widened. "Mommy, look! Someone hurt him. He's bleeding."
Valya tugged at the child's arm. "Come along, Lynette. Obey Mommy like a good girl."
Lynette stubbornly shrugged her off. "No. I want to say goodnight to Daddy."
Valya crossed her arms, her brows knitted in dismay. Sam had the impression it was tough for her to deny this child anything. He doubted the rest of her brood were so lucky.
"I'll give you five minutes, Lynette. Mommy has to check on something in the infirmary, then I'll be right back to put you to bed."
Valya scowled down at Sam as if warning him to keep his hands off her child, like he could do anything while his arms and legs were staked to the ground. Then she patted the girl lightly on the head and left the tent.
Once her mother was gone, Lynette asked, "Daddy? Tell me a story."
Flustered at being called Daddy, Sam said, "Sweetheart, your mother will be right back. There isn't time to tell you a story." Though he wished he could tell her the story of his life and buy time for them both. The very thought of this sweet child's life stolen away from her... Sam gritted his teeth against his building fury. Struggling to maintain a gentle tone, he added, "Why don't you tell me a story."
"I don't know any stories." Her cherubic smile suddenly brightened, and she held out a closed fist. "Let's play a game. Guess what's in my hand?"
A game. Not a bad idea if it helped distract him from his aching ribs. "I have no idea."
"I'll give you a hint." She brought her fist to her ear and pursed her lips in a silent whistle.
Sam frowned and said, "Is it a whistle?"
Lynette sighed. "You're too good at this game." She opened her hand, and there lay the slender, silver dog whistle Sam used to call Cody. "But it's broken. I tried blowing it and no sound came out."
His heart skipped a beat. "Where did you find it?"
"Inside your jacket. I took it from the trash heap that my big sister Jenna burns every morning. It's such a pretty jacket, and I didn't want it to get burned up."
"Bless you," he said, his grin making his swollen lip sting. He looked past her to the tent's empty doorway. "Do you know what a coyote looks like?"
She nodded.
"Well, I have a pet coyote, and the whistle you blew calls him to me. He's the only one who can hear it." He swallowed, realizing that Cody was now one more worry to add to his growing list. But he was a smart animal and knew beforehand that Sam was entering a dangerous situation. Having accompanied him on several cult intervention missions, Cody would be careful and stay out of sight. "Lynette, it's important that no one else see him but you and me."
The girl looked puzzled. "How come?"
"Because Cody is shy and doesn't like strangers. He might bite someone." Which wasn't entirely true. Cody was more bark than bite unless he or Sam were threatened. "He'll be our little secret, okay?"
Lynette tapped her chin and stared up at the ceiling, looking thoughtful and much older than four. "Does he like treats?"
"Not really," he said. But Cody would be attracted to anything that had Sam's scent on it. "He'll come to you if you have something that smells like me. Reach into my back pocket and pull out my handkerchief." He hoped the hanky hadn't disappeared along with his shirt.
Lynette squirmed her tiny hand into his back pocket and withdrew the folded square of white linen.
Just then, Valya returned. "Lynette, what are you doing?"
"Telling Daddy a story," Lynette said, giving Sam a sly wink as she fisted the handkerchief. She must have thought they were still playing the game. "It's about a whistle that doesn't make any noise."
"Oh?" Valya arched her eyebrows. "I've never heard that one. You'll have to tell it to me later. Right now, you need to get back to bed."
"Okay, Mommy." Lynette waved to Sam as she took her mother's hand.
Valya glared down at him and said, "I'll have that drink I promised you in a minute. Don't go away." She chuckled at her own joke then led his little girl out of the tent.
Sam closed his eyes and said a silent prayer that Cody would manage his way into camp without being seen. With any luck, the loaded gun in the coyote's neck pack was all it would take to set them all free. All of them. Including his adorably bright little daughter.
****
Kelly listened to the galloping feet outside the trailer, hoping a pair of them belonged to Sam. She held her breath, waiting. But no one, not even a sentry, touched the trailer door. The shouts and running eventually stopped, leaving her wondering what all the commotion had been about. Whatever it was, it didn't include her rescue. Discouraged, she hung her head and felt the slowing of her heart's anxious patter.
The cuffs around her wrists felt suddenly tighter, and she imagined her fingers going numb then dropping off her hands one by one. How could they just leave her in here like this? She'd already wet herself once, but the stench of vomit sickened her more than the smell of urine and sour sweat clinging to her skin. Poor Jake had wallowed in his own filth since yesterday. How did he stand it?
"Jake?" she called out to her brother. "Are you okay?"
He didn't answer. Probably asleep. The only sound inside the trailer was the monotonous stream of static from the radio. Now it sputtered and crackled as if someone tried to get through. Could it be Sam trying to contact her?
Waves of dizziness crashed through her head as she sorted through jumbled thoughts caused by the drug still in her system. Though her mind wasn't completely clear, the ants were finally gone, and she felt more like herself. The effects of Valya's drug were finally wearing off.
"Sam?" she called, addressing the radio. "Is that you?"
Her answer came as a stream of static.
She bit her lip to stop herself from crying. Tears wouldn't get her out of this. And Sam wasn't coming. As always, it was up to her to take care of herself.
She wiggled her toes, feeling the metal nail file scrape against the arch of her left foot. She could use it as a weapon. She felt around for the safety pin, knowing it could pick the lock on her handcuffs. Placing the toe of her right tennis shoe against the heel of her left, she pushed until the shoe slipped partially free of her foot. Gripping the shoe with her toes, she brought her knees up and angled her foot to reach her cuffed hands. She grabbed on to the loosened shoe and tugged it free.
The nail file fell out and clattered to the floor.
"Dang it!" She felt around with her stockinged foot, her toes seeking the slender piece of metal.
She
again lifted her feet to her hands, this time to pull off the other shoe and both socks. Something sharp pricked her hand. The safety pin had opened to embed itself in her sock. Relieved to have at least one of her tools, she used her bare toes to feel around for the missing file. Nothing.
"Jake," Kelly called out. "Jake! Wake up!"
In a voice still groggy from sleep, Jake said, "Huh?"
"I need your help. I dropped something, and I think it's on your side of the trailer. Can you find it for me?"
"What is it?"
She was hesitant to tell him. Assuming the radio received transmission as well as sent it, there was no doubt in her mind the trailer was bugged. She didn't want to risk a sentry or anyone else knowing what she was up to.
"What did you drop?"
She had to think fast. "One of my socks. My feet got hot, so I took off my shoes and socks. Now my feet are cold, and it's too dark for me to find my other sock."
"You woke me up just to find a stupid sock?" he asked, sounding petulant but still groggy. And weak. He wasn't well.
An idea came to her. Their secret code, the one they’d used as children when they didn't want their father to know what they were talking about. The code would let Jake know what she really wanted him to look for without alerting any eavesdroppers. The first letter of the third word in each three-word sentence would spell out what he had to find. It was the same code Jake had used in his letter to her about Star Mother.
"Jake, are you listening?"
He hesitated, and she hoped that meant he knew what she had in mind. "Yeah. Go ahead."
"All or none. None or all. That's what's in. If you like. Have some fun. You and I. What you love..." It took her a few seconds to think of a word that started with e. "I like eagles."
A long pause, and then, "Seriously?"
She prayed he wouldn't ask what the nail file was for. "Yes, Jake. Just do it for me, okay?"
Kelly heard him shuffling around on his side of the trailer, as if he swept the floor with something. A minute of silence, and then, "Found your sock. I'll kick it over to you."
She heard something metallic slide across the floor and reached out a bare foot to sweep the floor with her toes. There, the touch of cool, rough metal—the nail file. Jake used to tease her about her prehensile toes, calling her "monkey feet," and lucky for them he'd been right. She pinched the file between her toes and brought it to her cuffed hands.
Desert Guardian Page 16