She leaned over to lift the pack. It wouldn't budge.
“We all have burdens to bear.” His tone showed he was not impressed. All trace of the joker was gone. These people took their job seriously.
“People are dying out there. I get it. I'm sorry.” Afraid to look anybody in the eye, she opened her pack and stowed her own bag in the top, pulling the straps tight.
A glance showed Mitch still watching her. “There's no space for souvenirs.”
“We all have burdens to bear,” Samantha said, throwing the words back at him. “All I have of my sister is in there.”
“Leave it, Mitch,” Jim said. “She has to carry it.”
“Okay, time to get busy,” Carrot said. “This is as close as we can get without causing more damage. You're gonna have to jump.”
Jim took the lead, launching himself into the darkness. Mitch then handed lights and supplies down to him; they were only four feet from the ground. Carrot's reputation was well deserved.
Once the supplies were out, Mitch followed. Charlotte Benson jumped out of the front and this left Samantha peering out over the ruined city.
“Jump,” Clare urged from behind.
Swallowing and closing her eyes against the dust, Samantha jumped, Clare following. The landing was rough and uneven but hands caught her.
“Stay there, boss,” Carrot instructed. “I'll find you when I ditch the bird.”
The helicopter lifted, moving out of range in seconds. The dust began to settle on a very still Dubrovnik. In the dark it was difficult to see the devastation. Samantha expected to hear screams but the only noise aside from the team of rescuers was the occasional shift in rubble. A brick falling loose from a nearby overhang clattered to the paving beneath, making her jump. Jim solved the problem of darkness by powering up the lights. Bright white halogen beams shot into the darkness outward from their position.
They were in the middle of the walled city, on the leading edge of the rubble where paving cobbles crisscrossed diagonally underfoot. A bronze statue of a seated man was nearly covered by what remained of the hillside beyond. The statue appeared calm, accepting. It was what it was.
Behind them a church emerged from the darkness relatively unscathed.
“Dubrovnik Cathedral,” Jim informed her. “If you get lost, just head for it. All avenues lead here.
“What do we do now?” she asked.
“We try to figure out if the Secretary General is actually here,” Charlotte answered. “We try to help anybody we can or at least pinpoint them for the proper emergency services.”
“Why here? Why not up there?” Samantha pointed at the slope beyond.
“There's nothing standing up there.” Charlotte's tone was sympathetic. “Anybody who was in a house between the walled city and the origin of the avalanche has been wiped off the face of the earth. You don't move that much mountain and live. It's called triage. We help those who have a chance.
This happened when people were eating dinner in restaurants. I think the best idea is to concentrate on the wide-open spaces. The boys are going to do what they do best and solve this problem. You and I are gonna help the injured. But be careful, Sammy. You don't want to end up being one of them.
Like I have any chance of avoiding that fate. Samantha thought. Nina, how about you come swap places with me?
* * *
Samantha spent the night following Charlotte around like a tethered goat on a cliff, being led across rubble and into dark holes as they attempted to find those hadn't fled the city. It was hard going at first but soon she became attuned to the ruins Dubrovnik and people began to emerge.
Her aunt was dead-on. If they didn't speak English, or were too traumatised to try, an unspoken language emerged. She began to care for these dust-caked strangers with broken limbs, and cuts, tears streaking muddy rivulets down the coatings on their faces.
Her pack became lighter as the night wore on, the clothing and water soon exhausted as they aided victim and rescuer alike. They had not moved more than five hundred yards from the Cathedral. The restaurant district was extensive, and heavily populated.
“Water?” Charlotte asked, holding out a hand as she found a gap in rubble through which desperate hands clawed.
Samantha opened her pack. “I don't have any. It's all used up.”
“Dammit,” Charlotte cursed. “It'll be light soon. We can't stop.” Charlotte looked at her, peering into her face. “You're exhausted kid. You've done well. I'll get another pack so we can carry on. We're not done yet. Sit tight and take five. Remember we're still the bad guys.”
Samantha shouldered her pack and collapsed to her knees, seeking a way into the people behind the rubble. Alone, she would never move the broken masonry. All she could do was hold the nearest hand. A weak grip, it eventually dropped away. She collapsed back, oblivious to the effort that continued nearby. The ground was cold and unyielding, yet it was a blessing to rest. She closed her eyes, exhausted, thinking about what she could have done for Tracey. All the carnage around her and she could have prevented one small part of it.
Only a minute or two later, the crunch of debris underfoot alerted her. “You back so soon? Thought you'd be as tired as me.”
The footsteps stopped. “I'm fine,” said a familiar voice, one that chilled her to the bone.
Samantha looked up. “No.”
Chapter Nine
Lucas stared down at her, his eyes wide, his brow furrowed. Of all the bad pennies, Samantha thought, it had to be him. And how had he gotten here from the beach across from Hunters Ridge. Were Tamsyn and Donna here as well? And what about Tracey? Had her body been found? Did they bury her? Samantha's mind scrambled to understand all of this, as he menaced above her.
In the near dark, with his hair hanging about his face, shielding his features from everyone but her she realized this was simply camouflage, He looked like another dust-covered refugee to anybody else, but reeked of the familiar stale sweat.
Samantha rose to stand.
“Stay still,” Lucas hissed.
“What are you doing here?” Samantha hissed back, hoping Lucas did not realise how exhausted she was. Stall for time, she silently intoned. Charlotte would be back any moment.
“Your security goons shipped us here, that's what. They didn't even take us as far as the airport when the world went to hell. It's providence that I found you.” Lucas grabbed her by the arm, tugging her to her feet. “Now you're mine. No more demon spells. I'll get what I deserve.”
Her arm wrenched behind her back, Lucas forced Samantha along the street they had been searching and down an abandoned side alley from which survivors had already fled. Anyone nearby would miss her distant calls amid the outbursts of anguish already echoing the city and the distant wailing.
Lucas paused, searching for a suitable dark spot. A neon light flickered in the window of what appeared to be a tobacconist. He pushed her through the door.
On unsteady legs, Samantha collapsed to the floor amid the rubble of ruined cigarettes, tobacco leaves erupting from their paper wrappings as they absorbed moisture and swelled.
“I've been looking forward to this for years,” Lucas growled. “Ever since the party where we met.”
“The Star Wars party?” Every word, sentence, gesture, delayed the inevitable.
“You called me 'Han Duo' because of my size. That really pissed me off, Sammy. I've imagined saying this to you multiple times. Each time less angrily but you always set me off. I'm not in the mood to put up with your crap comments. You never thought it through before saying it.”
Samantha climbed to her feet. “Lucas what sort of a moron are you? One with no sense of humor, that's what. I was joking and what did it matter? You were thousands of miles away in seven different time zones on a computer screen!”
“It was an online date,” Lucas growled through clenched teeth.
“I was at a party and someone filmed it. You were watching me, as you always have. You know who watches people like that,
Lucas? A stalker. That's all you are. A stalker, a bully and a coward.”
Samantha instantly regretted her choice of words. Lucas turned away then lashed out, catching her full in the face with the back of his hand.
Knocked to the rubble-strewn floor, Samantha moaned in pain. Behind her, she heard Lucas unbuckle his belt. My God, he was going to rape her.
“This is what I am. I—”
Footsteps charged past her from darkness beyond the rubble, the sound of an impact overloading her already stressed senses, another ringing in her ears. Then someone picked up Lucas, physically lifting him off the ground. Samantha pushed at the rubble and turned, trying to make sense of what was going on.
A man stood above her holding Lucas up by the lapels of his jacket in one twisted fist. It seemed her pursuer was assaulted by a statue. The man didn't move or tremble.
“Who … who are you?” Lucas gibbered.
“Kinship and companionship are honorable and terrible things,” the deep-throated stranger replied. “They are sacred, not to be abused.” With only a slight shift in stance, the stranger hurled Lucas out through the doorway and against the opposite wall, crumpling to the ground.
The stranger turned back to Samantha and for the first time she clearly saw her savior. Standing in the neon light he looked beautiful, yet simultaneously alien. His skin was dark, almost completely black in the shadows. He was totally bald, but sported a full white beard. His upper torso was impressively muscled underneath the tattered grey shirt. His jeans were similarly ruined—all of him ripped, dusty, clearly a casualty of the avalanche, yet serene as if it hadn't affected him.
“Thank you,” Samantha said, climbing to her feet. “I think he … well he was about to do something terrible to me. Are you okay?”
The stranger squinted at her. “Your speech returns me clearly home.”
“Excuse me?”
He stumbled forward a step, breathing heavily. “Your speech and your appearance: Both alike.” With that, he fell against her, nearly crushing her under his weight as he dropped unconscious to the floor and rolled onto his back.
Samantha checked his pulse and breath, much like she had been doing all night. She would never make a decent field nurse, but at least she knew the basics. He lay as if knocked senseless, his breath deep and even, his pulse strong. She looked out into the alleyway, suddenly fearful that she was again alone with Lucas.
There was no sign of the body, just a hole in the wall opposite where the stranger had thrown him. Where was he? Had he gotten up? Fearing for her life, Samantha began to panic. Her eyes on the hole, she stumbled over the rubble of the tobacco shop and back out into the alleyway. The darkness beyond the hole was absolute, the building looking as if it would collapse. She left it all behind.
“There you are,” Charlotte said as Samantha emerged onto the boulevard, her voice relieved. “You were meant to stay here.”
“I'm sorry. I heard voices.” A wave of guilt and responsibility overcame her, “There's a man down back there.”
“Show me,” Clare, who was standing behind Charlotte commented, “You've certainly been busy.”
Samantha turned and led them back down the alleyway, her eyes fixed on the hole where the guy had thrown Lucas through a wall! So why did she still feel uneasy?
“What, in there?” Charlotte asked, peering into the hole. Before Samantha could reply she shone a flashlight in the gap. “Nothing. It's empty.”
“But that can't be. There was a body.”
“You sure, Sammy?” Her aunt leaned in close, pulling her eyelids apart. “Bloodshot, dust filled. I'm surprised you can see anything, especially given you've been awake all night.”
“There was … I saw … never mind. That's not who I found. In the shop opposite. He's in there. Be careful.”
Charlotte shone her flashlight in through the window for a moment then pushed the door open, saying something in Croatian. Samantha picked up on the word 'help'. She'd heard it enough in the last ten hours.
She followed Charlotte through the doorway back into the shop. The stranger was no longer lying prone on the floor, instead sitting on rubble with his head in his hands.
Charlotte tried a myriad of different languages, the stranger responding to none.
“He was speaking English when I found him. He said my speech and appearance were both alike.”
At those words the stranger perked up. “It's you,” he said, his face relieved. “What happened to me?”
Samantha put a comforting hand on his arm. She couldn't help but notice that the muscles underneath were rock-hard. “You were in an avalanche. Something caused the mountainside behind the city to give way and collapse. What do you remember?”
“Falling. I fell a great distance. I was up high. Then this.” He held his hands out. “I saw my body floating from above. Then I awoke.”
His voice had the same rich, deep timbre, but was clearer this time, and he seemed much more aware.
“Do you remember anything else? Your name perhaps? Where you're from?”
He looked up at her. “I … oh. No, nothing comes to mind. I have no idea where I'm from. Something tells me quite far away.”
Samantha smiled. “I-oh? That's it—Io. Io will do. It's better than John Doe, at least until you remember.”
“Io, can you walk?” Clare asked.
Samantha gave Io a warning glance when he looked past her to the wall opposite.
“I should be fine,” he replied. “Guess I must have been on the edge of the avalanche.”
“You've no idea!” Charlotte said, turning to lead them out. “Fancy helping us? I assume Sammy here looked you over.” She chuckled, viewing him slowly up and down.
“I'm fine,” Io replied. “I don't appear to have suffered any major injury. Just lead the way and I'll help where I am able.”
Samantha snickered. If Io noticed Charlotte's wanton stare, he didn't react.
Back on the boulevard, Mitch and Jim reached their location.
“Where's Carrot?” Clare asked.
Jim finished tying off a bandage on the arm of a teenage boy while a worried woman, likely his mother, watched. “I sent her off a while back for a few hours shuteye. No point having a pilot who's too exhausted to fly us out of here.” He nodded at Io, who waited patiently beside Samantha. “What's his story?”
Samantha repeated Io's experience to Jim, who pursed his lips in thought, rubbing at his chin with one grimy hand. “Out of body experience, eh?”
“You don't believe him?” Samantha felt very protective toward the hulking man beside her, despite the fact he didn't appear to need it.
“They're well-documented,” Jim replied, not rising to the bait. “The floating, the seeing of one's self. I highly doubt you were up there though, pal.” Jim pointed at the ugly scar in the mountainside. “Not unless you're some sort of superhuman rock surfer. Besides, I know you've got a history of picking up strays, Samantha.”
Samantha glared at Clare following the barb, mostly intended to refer to her recent activity. The only way they could have known was for her to have told them. Her aunt ignored her.
Io paid no attention to the conversation, staring instead at a pile of rubble. “There's someone in there.”
“That's just a pile of rubble,” Mitch said. “Swept up against that wall.”
Io continued to stare, revealing the truth to all of them. Samantha crouched and began to shift the rubble, making sure each lump of ruined building and mountain rock was free to move before she tensed to lift.
Io watched, now stilled as if by will he could rescue whomever was buried. As Samantha struggled, Charlotte joined her, helping lift the more sizeable masonry. As a hole emerged in the wall behind, Io stepped forward.
“Give me a light,” Samantha asked, holding her hand out behind. Someone passed her a flashlight to illuminate the gap. She saw movement. “There are people in here. Two or three.”
“Help us,” a weak Italian-accented voic
e cried.
At the sound of the cry, the rest of the team realized Io was right, moving in to make light work of the rubble. Io's face was animated, his eyes widened and his head tipped to one side as he struggled to listen amid the cries of despair in the Dubrovnik dawn. Finally, he too joined in, removing the largest pieces of rubble. Samantha watched furtively, admiring the way the muscles of his shoulders bunched under his t-shirt.
When a sufficient gap had been cleared, Io dived in. Not waiting for permission, Samantha followed in a crouch, meeting heartbreak within. An old lady, legs crushed under a collapsed wall, lay watching them, her head on a rolled-up blanket. The rest of the room had a gap no more than the height of her shoulders. A cot was up against one wall. There was no doorway. Shards of wood stuck out of the rubble. Presumably this was the door.
Io's attention was focussed on a young woman with a baby. Samantha joined him. The baby mewled weakly, clutched in the dead arms of a young woman with blood running out of her ear. A young woman no more.
Io plucked the baby up with immense care.
“It's my granddaughter, Evangelina,” the old woman said.
“Is that your daughter?” Samantha moved over to her. Io followed with the baby.
The old woman nodded, her movement barely a gesture.
Samantha put two fingers to the old woman's jugular. Her pulse fluttered. “She doesn't have long.”
Io passed the baby back out of the hole to a waiting Charlotte, then turned his attention to the old lady. “What is your name?”
She smiled up at him, her face peaceful. “Chiara. I can see you; are you here to help me on?”
“We're here to get you out,” Samantha said as she threw a questioning glance at Io, but his gaze was fixed on the old lady. “Just hold still and we'll get this rubble off. There's a team waiting to get you to hospital.”
“It's too late. My time has passed. But thank you for rescuing my Evangelina. Please, we were her only family. See she is looked after. She is precious.”
“Your grandaughter will lead a long and fruitful life,” Io assured her. “You will see her again.”
Thornfalcon (The ARC Legacy Book 1) Page 8