Then she pressed against the skin on his thighs. Both thighs were warm, but not hot, and not abnormally hard to the touch, so he hadn’t broken a femur. If he had, at least a pint of blood would’ve leaked into the surrounding area and caused palpable heat and skin tightness from the swelling.
She crawled toward his upper body and examined his arms, shoulders, and chest. By some miracle, he didn’t have any noticeable injuries that looked life-threatening, but of course, there were all sorts of terrible possibilities she couldn’t see, a ruptured spleen, for one—the list was too long to contemplate.
She sat back on her heels and looked at him. He looked a little taller than she was, so she guessed he was maybe six feet. He was muscular, but the muscles were the normal flat kind, not the bulging ones that were the latest craze. Phoebe crawled up toward his head and felt around on his scalp. It was dry. He hadn’t cut his head and she didn’t feel any depressions in his skull.
He looked to be about her age, in his fifties. There was silver mixed in with brown in his wild halo of curls. His hair was clean and soft, longer than normal for someone his age, but she didn’t know if that was due to vanity or simply a failure to get frequent haircuts.
He hadn’t made any sounds during the exam, but she knew he was conscious because he was smiling.
“Don’t stop,” he said. “I’m trying to enjoy this. I haven’t been naked around a woman in a long time.”
“I’m very glad you’re alive, but try not to get carried away.”
“Honey, the shape I’m in, if I don’t get carried, I’m not going anywhere at all.”
He was funny, even when he was in pain. That told Phoebe a lot about his character.
“What’s your name?” she asked.
He didn’t answer right away, but when Phoebe didn’t press him, he finally mumbled, “Nick.”
“My name’s Phoebe. That was Ivy who just left to get help so we can get you down from here. Can you tell me what happened?”
“I fell.”
“We got that part,” Phoebe said. “Was it an accident?”
There was a pause, then he murmured, “No.”
Chapter 6
“Why would someone do that to you?”
This time the pause was even longer, and he shifted slightly before answering. He was obviously in pain when he said, “I guess I made em mad.”
“Are they the mafia?”
He barked a short laugh, and that started him coughing. Phoebe held his hand until he quieted.
“Who are they?” she asked.
“Didn’t introduce themselves.”
“What did you do that made someone mad enough to kill you?”
His brow furrowed, “My research…maybe.”
Phoebe didn’t say anything, hoping he’d continue, but if he didn’t she wouldn’t press him. His lack of clothing prevented her from getting any clues about him that way, but he had no tattoos or scars except for an old straight line cut just underneath his chin. That was a scar nearly every active little boy got at some point. There were no surgical scars and no suspicious marks like from knife wounds or bullet holes. She decided he didn’t look like a criminal.
She could tell he was gradually settling down, but he was still keeping his eyes tightly closed. She wondered if he was simply afraid of heights, like her, or if he was seeing double or had vertigo. “I need to check your vision again,” she said, as she touched his face and began to peel back an eyelid.
“No!” he said, and knocked her arm away.
“What’s wrong?”
He breathed several deep breaths and let them out through his nose before saying, “I have some … issues. Serious issues.”
She waited to hear what they were, but he remained quiet.
“What sort of issues?”
“Agoraphobia,” he whispered, like even the word scared him.
Ohhhh, that explained a lot. This was what the helicopter had been about. Torture. How horrible to have been swept out of his safe place and tossed out into the wild blue yonder. It was the worst possible thing they could’ve done to him. Someone must really hate him.
“Okay,” she said, “I understand.” His fear of wide spaces might’ve been what caused the vomiting. If he was bleeding into his brain, and she saw one or both of his pupils become fixed, there was nothing she could do about it anyway, so she wouldn’t pry his eyes open again. She took off the fleece headband she used to hold her hair back.
She told him what she was going to do, then put it around his head and over his eyes like a blindfold. She’d seen her ranger friend Henry do something similar to wild animals when he was working on them. He said it was a kindness that helped them stay calm, like a hood for a falcon.
The man’s breathing slowed and his heart rate came down after that.
“What were you researching?” she asked.
He took a deep breath and swallowed audibly. She could tell he was waiting for nausea to subside, then he said, “The cause of war.”
Wow, she hadn’t seen that coming. She knew it was likely that he was still a bit addled. A fall like that would temporarily scramble anyone’s brains.
“Why would that make anybody mad?” she asked.
“They don’t want … wars to stop.”
“Oh,” Phoebe said, “the military-industrial complex.”
He laughed again, and started retching. Phoebe rolled him onto his side and held him steady until the gagging subsided. “Who do you think it is?”
“It’s complicated,” he sighed, “It could be anybody.”
Phoebe wondered if he was crazy, or if this was evidence of a head injury that was getting worse, but then she remembered he’d been shoved out of a helicopter. That certainly leant credence to any outlandish story he might come out with.
After something like that you couldn’t blame a guy for feeling paranoid. She didn’t ask him any more questions, though, because talking was difficult for him. There’d be plenty of time to sort things out later.
She sat with him in silence, contemplating the situation. The scene was like something out of a religious painting or Paradise Lost. A man had fallen out of the sky and nearly into her lap. She briefly entertained the notion that he might be an angel, but then realized the cynical and sarcastic tone of his few utterances would seem to indicate a fallen angel at best.
Phoebe knew her Bible. She knew that Lucifer had gotten himself cast out of heaven and that he was said to be the most beautiful of all the angels. She looked at the man carefully. She hadn’t really noticed before because she was worried about him, but he was kinda gorgeous.
Since his eyes were closed, she was free to admire his charmingly disheveled hair, dark eyebrows, straight nose, and long thick dark eyelashes. She tried to remember the color of his eyes, but she hadn’t gotten much of a look. He seemed to be sleeping. That was either a good thing, or not.
Neither of them spoke again as they waited for Ivy to return, but Phoebe kept a close watch over Nick. And she prayed. The image of Lucifer wouldn’t go away, though, so at one point she stopped, worried that she might praying for the Devil.
Then she started back up again, thinking that the Devil probably needed our prayers most of all.
Chapter 7
Phoebe heard rustling in the forest. Someone was coming.
Then she heard the snapping of twigs underfoot. Whoever it was, they were getting closer. She could tell Nick heard it too, because he tightened his grip on the rope net. She put a hand on his shoulder to reassure him, and removed his blindfold, but neither of them made a sound.
Tense seconds ticked by with more noises of someone or something crashing through the dense vegetation nearby, then Ivy and Leon emerged. Neither of them spoke. They made hand signals to Phoebe,
and remained silent as they rigged their gear.
Leon tilted a crossbow up, needing to shoot a guide line for his climbing rope. Phoebe understood what he as doing and kept a steady hand on Nick to keep him from freaking out if he should open his eyes and see the weapon.
Leon aimed at a sturdy limb above the research platform and signaled that Phoebe should duck her head so he could shoot. She crouched down next to Nick and whispered, “It’s okay.”
Leon and Ivy and made their ascent as quickly and quietly as possible and knelt beside Phoebe and Nick. They whispered that they’d heard some other people in the area. They hadn’t been able to see them, so they didn’t know who they were, but the implications were obvious. Ivy’s research area was pretty far off the beaten track, so there was a strong possibility it was the helicopter people looking to finish their job.
“Stay quiet,” Leon whispered to Nick, “and do what I tell you. Don’t worry, I’ll have you down from here in a minute.” Then he turned to Phoebe and whispered, “As soon as we hit the ground, we’ll go for my truck instead of your Jeep. It’s farther away, but it’s hidden. It’s on the old logging road where the poachers like to park. I’m afraid people might’ve seen your Jeep. Anyone coming in here would’ve had to pass it.”
Phoebe knew the place Leon was talking about. She nodded her understanding.
He pointed at Nick and said, “I’ll carry him.”
Leon dressed Nick in a pair of baggy cargo shorts and a ragged t-shirt. Then he helped him sit up and put the climbing harness on him.
He clipped Nick’s harness to his own and said softly, “You don’t have to do anything. Just stay still, and whatever you do, don’t pull on this knot.”
He indicated the Blake’s Hitch, the complex knot that would allow them to control their descent and would work as dead man’s switch to arrest their fall if necessary, “Don’t touch this.”
Nick slitted one eye open just enough to glance at the knot warily.
“Don’t touch any of the ropes, understand?”
Nick nodded.
Leon scooted to the edge of the platform and he and Ivy half-dragged Nick until they had him seated next to Leon. When both men had their legs dangling over the edge, Phoebe touched his shoulder and whispered, “Keep your eyes closed.”
He was obviously in pain and Phoebe knew he must be horribly nauseous and afraid, but he didn’t make a sound. Phoebe had seen a lot of sick and injured people and knew how they behaved. This guy was one very tough cookie. She couldn’t help but be impressed.
Leon pushed himself over the edge and dragged Nick with him. Then they started down. When they touched down, Nick’s legs wouldn’t support him, so Leon held him in a big bear hug.
Ivy waited until the men were on the ground, then she rigged Phoebe’s harness and attached it to hers and the women made the same type of descent the guys had just made. Phoebe had never rappelled before. It felt sort of like being on an elevator, except without the floor or walls or ceiling, and the elevator swayed in three dimensions. She took the same advice she’d given Nick and kept her eyes closed.
Despite everything that had happened, she had a nearly irresistible urge to yodel like Tarzan on the way down, but in consideration of their safety, she didn’t give in to the impulse. It was amazing how fear was relative. Being chased by professional assassins had dampened Phoebe’s concerns about getting to the ground.
At least she had a rope.
By the time all four of them were on the ground they could easily hear people thrashing around nearby. It sounded like more than one person. They shucked out of their harnesses as quietly as possible and left the long ropes dangling.
Leon handed Phoebe the keys to his truck and gestured that she should give him her keys. She handed them to him. He pointed to an ancient tree that had fallen over and whispered into her ear, using a cupped hand to cover any sounds, “Ya’ll hide in the hole under the big stump.
“Go, now. Ivy and I’ll lead these fellows away. We’ll take em over toward Sanderson’s Hell. Then we’ll come back and get your Jeep and meet you at the café.” Then he began removing his shoes.
A hell was the local term for an impenetrable thicket of briars created by mountain laurel and rhododendron roots and branches. These areas were common in the Smokies. They could be found in small patches or they might cover large areas. They were impossible to navigate in or through. If you could traverse them at all, it was exhausting, and you’d get lost because you couldn’t maintain a straight line of movement.
Nick was so weak Phoebe could barely support him. He was as pale as death, too. She was concerned that the rappelling had worsened his situation. She gestured toward her patient and mouthed one word to Leon, hospital.
Leon nodded and pulled his shirt off over his head. Then he began to unzip his jeans. He twirled his finger to indicate that Phoebe should turn around. She did and then she helped Nick hobble toward the dark cavity created by the rotting tree. She helped him sit down and then scoot back underneath the huge fallen log. She quickly brushed damp leaves over his legs, then sat beside him and did the same for herself.
She glanced around in time to see a flash of the pale form of Leon undressed, pretending to limp away with Ivy’s assistance. Within seconds the couple disappeared in that disconcerting way that was so easy to do in the lush vegetation of the cloudforest.
Almost immediately she heard sounds close by, approaching from another direction. Two figures moved by wearing camouflage. It was clear that the men were professionals. They moved carefully, and wore an array of gear strapped all over themselves that Phoebe couldn’t begin to identify.
The men crept off in the direction Leon and Ivy had gone.
Phoebe was frightened for her friends. She could feel Nick shivering beside her, from shock, fear, cold, or maybe all three. She didn’t move a muscle because her ranger friend Henry had taught her that it was movement, more than anything else, that made it possible to spot people or animals in the forest. He’d said that if a person would hold still, they’d be nearly impossible to see, even if they weren’t wearing camo.
She trusted Henry and knew he was an expert in woodscraft. He’d learned the trick of stillness from hunting and also from his work with rescue teams. She knew people who were unconscious or dead were extremely hard to locate in the wilderness. He’d lamented how many times searchers had walked right by a body, even one dressed in bright-colored clothing, without ever realizing it.
Leon and Henry’s advice worked. The two pursuers moved past Phoebe and Nick’s hiding place and continued to move away until they couldn’t be heard any more.
Phoebe and Nick remained hidden under the tree roots for a couple more minutes until she figured the bad guys were well away from them. Then she stood, helped Nick up, and supported him as much as she could as they made their way through the forest, heading for Leon’s truck.
Chapter 8
Leon and Ivy were moving quickly, but leaving a trail that was pretty obvious. It was a good thing they were dating, Leon thought. He wouldn’t have wanted to run through the woods in his birthday suit with anyone besides his girlfriend. It was embarrassing to do it even with Ivy, not to mention painful.
Fortunately both of them were extremely fit and thoroughly familiar with the area. The people who were chasing them had no idea of the terrain or the vegetative nightmare that was coming. That gave Leon and Ivy a tremendous edge. An almost comical advantage, except that the people who were after them would most certainly have guns, while they had only their wits.
By unspoken agreement the couple headed toward Andrews Creek. The noisy creek would cover the sounds of their movement as they lead their pursuers into the trap and would also provide the means for them to change direction and escape.
It would be fairly simple to lay a trail that would get t
he bad guys stuck in a tangle of blackberry briars, rhododendron, laurel, and witch and dog hobble. But Leon and Ivy would be able to avoid the hell by doubling back and leaving the area, walking in the creek. They’d be almost impossible to track.
If the men coming after them hadn’t been killers, Leon might’ve felt sorry for them.
Phoebe guessed it was about noon by the time she and Nick reached Leon’s ancient Datsun truck. “We’ve got to get you to a hospital right away. I’ll take you to Charlie,” she said
“Who’s Charlie?” Nick asked.
“A friend, and a doctor. He’s a radiologist, so if I can get you to where he works, he’ll be able to figure out if there’s anything seriously wrong with you.”
“There’s a lot of things seriously wrong with me,” Nick muttered.
Phoebe agreed, but didn’t say so out loud. She turned the little truck around and took off for Knoxville.
Leon and Ivy crouched behind another of the many blowdowns, a full-grown tree that had been knocked onto its side by the wind. They hoped their pursuers had been able to follow them, but not too closely. Keeping an even distance between themselves and the bad guys wasn’t easy.
Thank goodness they were close to the boisterous creek. Once they were sure the men chasing them had taken the bait and entered the hell, Leon and Ivy planned to use the noise of rushing water to mask the sounds of their escape. If they walked carefully in the rocky streambed, the water would conceal their tracks as well.
They’d reached the crucial point. They worked quickly to break off bits of shrubbery on both sides of the creek and lay a false trail by making deep foot impressions and slide marks on the opposite bank. Then they stepped into the middle of the stream walked away from the infamous thicket, hoping they’d be able to trick their pursuers into stumbling on into the acres and acres of shrubbery.
Carolyn Jourdan - Nurse Phoebe 02 - The School for Mysteries Page 3