by Lisa Medley
“Run back and flip some more light switches. I’ll holler when they come on back here,” Noah said.
“You sure?”
“We’re already locked in here. Might as well see what we have while the power is still on.”
“Roger that.” Tessa nodded and headed back to the helm.
She studied the instrument panel and approximated the location of interior lights. Slowly, one by one, she began flipping switches up, ready to undo any action that seemed to cause distress. Relief flooded through her as lights all around the cabin began to beam LED brightness throughout the interior.
“You got it,” Noah called from the stern.
Lights shone through the grates under her feet as she hurried back to join Noah.
“I found our way down.” Noah waited on a narrow platform. “Come on.”
Tessa joined him on the lift. Noah pressed a button behind them and the elevator jerked to life then descended with them. With no railing, Tessa grabbed Noah’s arm to steady herself. It wasn’t a far fall, but she didn’t want to take it.
The platform came to a stop, and they stepped off.
“Is that—?” Tessa asked.
“Rocks. Lots and lots of space rocks.”
“They’re using a similar fueling system, too?”
“It would seem so. Hmm…” Noah reached in and retrieved a rock from the hopper and examined it. “I wonder…?”
He walked around the hopper to a bank of fuel injectors, then reached forward and twisted the largest, center injector free. “Insurance. I think I’ll take this with us.”
“Is that the main fuel injector?” Tessa asked.
“It appears to be. ET won’t be going home without this. I’ll keep it in case he heals up and tries to steal our ride while we sleep.”
“You’re a genius.”
“I have my moments.”
Chapter Fifteen
The camp was in chaos.
Indians, male and female, young and old, poured out of their wickiups and away from their tasks as the band tore into camp. The braves had ridden full-speed all the way back. It would be a miracle if their injured man didn’t now have several broken ribs to add to his troubles.
Cole cast a casual look toward the wicki he’d shared with Tessa, but no one emerged from it. Neither she nor Noah appeared in the crowd surrounding the wounded brave. He wasn’t sure if that was a good sign or bad. At the moment, considering he was the odd man out with no way to communicate, he was betting on bad.
The crowd parted, and Chief Itza-Chu appeared to assess the situation. One of the search team braves stood and spoke to the chief, motioning and jabbing his pointed finger animatedly in Cole’s direction, clearly punctuating each point. Cole didn’t need an interpreter to recognize which way the wind of blame was blowing. He instinctively cradled the Colt through his flight suit. He was hardly prepared for a quick draw, but he’d slit the pocket of his flight suit last night in the tent. He eased his hand into the pocket, closed it around the comforting steel, and ambled backward, letting the crowd fill in his wake. He was a survivor. Of course, the whole idea of shooting his way out of hostile Indian Territory seemed rather futile, all things considered. Still, it wasn’t in his DNA to go down without a fight.
He was ten steps from the horses and possible escape when he saw Bimisi approaching down the mesa with Noah and Tessa following. His relief was dampened by the palpable anxiety still bubbling in his gut. Neither of them knew what they were coming back to or how bad the situation was likely turn. At this point, his only hope was Tessa’s connection with the boy and that the chief would hear him out before killing them.
He was used to fending for himself and, when the need arose, getting himself out of some tight spots. Now he had these two jokers to worry about, too. Tessa graced him with the smallest of smiles and a nod as she neared, and damn if that didn’t slay him.
That woman was going to be the death of him.
***
Though she’d never in a million years admit it, relief filled her to see Cole alive and well as they rode into camp. It had been a long, crazy day, and she was bursting to tell him what they’d found. And damn if that didn’t make her feel like a tween, running home with her all-A report card to show her proud parents.
¡Dios mío! Why did she even care what Cole thought of her…or if he thought of her at all. Like they didn’t have enough problems. She stifled the smile pulling at the corners of her mouth and focused ahead until she finally saw what was happening in camp. Or, at the very least, recognized the tension brewing around some hidden force they hovered about.
Her gaze snapped from Chief Itza-Chu to Cole and then the surrounding braves, a few of whom she recognized from this morning. What the hell had happened?
“Looks like Cole may have worn out our welcome,” Noah said.
“That man makes trouble everywhere he goes,” Tessa replied.
“He does seem to have a way.”
Welcome Wagon kicked his horse in the flanks and urged it ahead, racing toward the impatient crowd. Bimisi, clearly torn as to whether to stay or go, turned to look at Tessa and Cole, his brow furrowed with indecision.
“I stay,” he finally said.
“Don’t, if you need to go. We’ll be all right,” Tessa said.
“No. This does not feel all right,” Bimisi countered.
Tessa nodded to him, and the three of them rode forward together, the ice cream investment already paying off.
Cole stayed in place like a statue, the vein pulsing at his temple and the grim line of his mouth the only indication he was troubled. Tessa chided herself for cueing into his mannerisms already. Hell, she didn’t even like the man. Maybe that was it. Maybe it was because he was so annoying he’d imprinted on her so quickly and thoroughly. Yeah, that had to be it.
She rode her horse up to him and pulled back on the its mane, indicating it was time to park. Noah did the same next to her. Bimisi was already off his horse when she kicked her leg over the beast’s back and slid off, stumbling on the dismount. Cole caught her under her arms, taking the brunt of the fall off of her backside.
“Bareback is tough,” Cole said, sans his usual sarcastic tone.
“Thanks,” Tessa said, turning to face him. “What did we miss? Or should I ask, what did you do?”
“Believe it or not, precious, I’m innocent in this whole thing, but I don’t think I’m exactly fixin’ to be tried by a jury of my peers.”
“Tell us everything. I’m thinking the Readers’ Digest version might be best,” Noah said, eyeing the angry faces staring them down.
Cole laid it all out for them.
He was right. None of it was directly his fault. The looks on the faces before them said otherwise. Their mere arrival had caused this to happen.
Chief Itza-Chu called to Bimisi who relayed his message.
“Chief wants your healer to look at Kuruk’s hand. Use your medicines to heal him,” Bimisi said.
Tessa shot a wary glance at Noah. “You’re up, Doc. They want you to heal his hand.”
“Pretty sure there’s no fixing that,” Cole interjected.
“If it was acid of some sort, it will likely continue to burn through the skin until the acid is removed,” Noah said.
“Son, I watched it burn through the bones in his fingers already. And that was before I bandaged it up. No telling what’s left inside there now.”
Noah’s mouth set into a frown. “Guess we’re about to find out.”
He stepped forward, and the crowd gave way. Kuruk lay still unconscious on the ground. Someone had stuffed a folded animal hide beneath his head, and a female dribbled water into his mouth from a skin flask. Noah bent and settled onto his knees beside the man. Cole worried they had more confidence in the three of them than was warranted.
Kuruk’s hand had been unbandaged and lay on the bandana across his chest. Tessa and Cole stepped through the crowd to flank Noah.
Cole sucked in a sharp br
eath at the bare stub of the man’s arm. “The acid’s almost eaten away to his wrist. For God’s sake, don’t touch his wound, Noah.”
“Don’t worry,” Noah said. He pointed to the water flask the woman across from him held. “Tessa, tell her I need the water. And as much more as they can carry. If this is acid, we need to flush the wound and dilute it as much as we can on the surface at least. If it’s gotten into his bloodstream…”
“Then he’s a goner,” Cole finished.
Tessa translated, and the woman handed over the flask, while another brave raced away, presumably for more water.
Noah took the man’s arm by the elbow and lifted then doused the ruined stump, examining the injury as best he could without touching it. Tessa leaned in for a better look. Dried blood washed from the wound, but it still didn’t bleed. Just as Cole had said, the wound seemed to be self-cauterizing. It was probably a blessing the man had passed out.
The last of the water dripped from the flask, and Noah pinched the corner of the bandana then tried to fold it to wipe at the wound, but the cloth disintegrated before he could make the first fold. Tessa quickly looked to where Kuruk’s arm had been resting on his chest. The acid had eaten through the first layer of his animal skin shirt.
Seconds later the crowd parted again to let through the brave who’d gone for more water. He laid several larger flasks down beside the man. Noah looked at Tessa—acknowledging the likely futility of their task—then rolled the man onto his side, laying his arm on the empty flask. He flushed the man’s chest where the stump had touched and continued to flush the wound until they’d emptied every flask.
They were all less than confident it would be enough. Even if the acid stopped its progressive burn, the possibility of infection setting in was high. They had a very limited supply of antibiotics, and they’d already promised them to the chief for Ela.
“Bring me the medicine bag from my horse, Tessa. We’ve got to give him at least one shot of antibiotics. If either of you disagree, now’s the time to speak up.”
“Do it,” Cole said. “We need him to stay alive until we can get out of here.”
Tessa told Bimisi what they needed to do, and he relayed to the chief who nodded his consent. She hurried to Noah’s horse and untied the bag then brought it back.
Noah extracted the small glass bottle and tore the hypodermic needle from its sterile packaging, then drew up the dosage. He stuck the needle into the crook of Kuruk’s injured arm’s elbow and administered the medicine.
“Do you think that will work?” Tessa asked.
“It’d better,” Cole said.
Chapter Sixteen
Night closed in, and Cole worked at trying to start the fire inside their wicki as Tessa sat on her grass mat across from him. They’d been sent to their tent without dinner. Noah had been sent to Ela’s tent to administer his medical magic. They didn’t know the fate of Kuruk.
Honestly, he didn’t mind the exile as much as he probably should have. Two guards were posted outside their door. Tessa continued to fill him in on her and Noah’s investigation of the alien ship. He had to remember to close his mouth a couple of times as she described the instrument panel and setup, but it was the fuel and propulsion system that really floored him.
“How is it possible that that thing’s tech is almost identical to ours?” Cole asked.
“We’ve been asking that all day. Trust me, seeing it doesn’t make it any easier to believe, but we have a theory.” Tessa fidgeted on her mat.
“And?” Cole asked, impatient.
Tessa leaned in. “Where are we, Cole?”
Cole snorted. “The middle of the freakin’ desert in the wrong time? Is this a trick question? ’Cause, precious, I’ve got no patience for riddles tonight.”
“Specifically, where are we?”
“New Mexico. The territory formerly known as SpaceXport, USA.”
“We’re an hour from Roswell, Cole. Or at least the future Roswell. Once we pieced a few things together, it started to make more sense how it could all happen. Think about it. Remember the whole Roswell Incident in the 1940s? UFOs, weather balloons, alien bodies in the desert?”
A spark flared to life inside the fire, and Cole fed it dried grass to kindle it. “Sure. That was all dismissed as a hoax years ago.”
“Well yeah, but what if it wasn’t a hoax? What if this wormhole that brought us out here into the middle of the desert brought other things, too? What if this trip? Our crashed ship? The alien ship? What if this wasn’t the first time? Or the last. What if us flying the alien ship home, is how we got the tech for our current ship in the first place? What if this wormhole isn’t an exact science and floats around the ether out here occasionally dropping ‘visitors’ in on us? What if it’s happened before? And continues to happen? What if Area 51 is a warehouse of wormhole debris?”
Cole fanned the quickly growing flames. “You’re making my head hurt.”
“Sort of blows your mind, doesn’t it?”
“So we’re stuck in some sort of cosmic loop? Aren’t we doomed to keep repeating this like Groundhog Day, then?”
Tessa warmed her hands near the fire. “I don’t think so, but I think that’s why this area has been so active with alien and UFO activity through the years. What’s Janson going to do when we show up at home with this alien ship?”
“He’s going to wet himself. Then he’s going to pay us. Well.”
“He’s going to reproduce it. Quietly and privately. He wants a space hotel. What would he do for time travel, too?”
Cole swiped a hand across his growing beard. “That would be a nightmare.”
“Maybe it’s something Janson doesn’t need to know about.”
“We come back with an Apache Princess, I’m pretty sure he’s going to figure it out.” Cole said.
“Just when you think things can’t get any weirder—”
A scream pierced the wicki, quickly followed by the sound of dozens of feet pounding across the ground outside their tent. Cole and Tessa scrambled out the door to find their guards abandoning their post and racing toward the shrieks.
“Stay here,” Cole commanded.
“No freakin’ way,” Tessa said.
Noah emerged from Ela’s wicki, and the three of them raced toward the mêlée.
As they reached the edge of the camp, something darted out of the black scrub and snatched hold of one of the braves standing near a sobbing woman and dragged him into the darkness. Cole looked down at the woman to determine the source of her distress and found her holding what was left of a child’s trousers. Seconds later, the body of the young brave came hurtling through the air and landed just shy of Cole and Tessa. His torso was shredded, and his eye sockets still steamed where his soft eyeballs had been burned out by acid. Cole watched as the remainder of the skin of his face melted away, exposing the white bone of his skull below.
“Get away from the brush! Back away from the brush!” Cole yelled, but no one moved. “Tessa, tell them!”
Tessa yelled Cole’s directions in Spanish and waved them away. At least a few of the Apaches understood enough to start moving, then many more followed.
Cole drew his weapon and aimed toward the darkness from where the creature had emerged. Six shots were all he had. Bullets wouldn’t do shit against that acid. Still, he watched. And waited. A dozen braves lined up on either side of him, bows drawn and arrows nocked. Welcome Wagon stood to his left with the rifle aimed at the same unseen assailant. A few seconds later, more joined them.
The desert grew deathly quiet, save for the diminishing sobs of the woman being led away with what in all likelihood remained of her child. Cole’s skin crawled, and his senses pricked at every little insect or shuffle of feet. The waiting. That was the hardest. Anticipating the danger but not knowing when or where it would come from. He could hear Tessa breathing rapidly behind him. He wanted to order her to the center of camp as well.
Yeah, he knew a bit more Spanish than curse
words.
He also knew she wouldn’t go. His eyes adjusted to the darkness, and he could begin to make out more distinct shapes and shadows in the moonlight. The Colt grew heavy in his hands. He tried to hold it steady and slow his treacherous heart. To his right, he caught a whisper of movement seconds before another brave was snatched by the chest. Long gray claws sliced through the man’s clothing then disappeared into his body cavity, pulling his heart free. The alien turned then projected fluid toward them in a wide spray. Cole took one step backward, pushing Tessa to the ground behind him, narrowly avoiding the spray. Welcome Wagon and the others weren’t as lucky.
The alien took a step forward to repeat his assault, and Cole shot four holes into the beast before it retreated into the deeper darkness of the desert. He hoped to God it wasn’t going back to its ship. Walking to the edge of the brush where the creature had been standing, he scanned the ground with his penlight. Two pools of the creature’s blood gleamed on the dusty ground. Cole used his boot to kick more sandy dirt over the pools until they stopped steaming.
Noah called for water, already administering to the fallen warriors. Tessa barked out his orders in rapid succession.
“Cole, where’s Bimisi?” Tessa asked, searching the group as they helped the warriors back to the camp center. “You don’t think those trousers…”
“No. He’s lost in the confusion. I’m sure he’s fine,” Cole said, less than sure himself.
Those pants had been the right size for the boy. Regardless, someone’s son wasn’t likely coming back out of those dark weeds alive. Chief Itza-Chu stood in the center of camp, giving orders to his men who then quickly took up a tight circle of posts around the camp’s perimeter. The women and children huddled in the center and some fed the fire, making it blaze high and bright to light up the night. If the creature returned, they’d be ready, and this time, they’d see it coming for them.
Cole wasn’t sure how much damage four bullets would do, but he was certain he’d made contact with each of them. Two shots left, and hours of darkness ahead of them.