Desert Guardian (17 page)

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 Consuela had been replaced by one of the sentries, a thin man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.

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 the 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."

She
began to cry in low, despairing sobs that tore at his heart. He wanted so much
to explain himself, to apologize for being a jerk. But now wasn't the time.
Considering the state she was in, he doubted she'd comprehend much of anything
he said anyway.

"Don't
give up on me," he told her, his tone sounding harsh even to himself. "Don't
you dare give up. And don't you dare give in to their lunacy."

"Lunacy.
Yes. Yes-yes-yes-yes. That's what it is." Her voice low, she added, "They're
in here. A whole bunch of them. They're trying to talk me into leaving with
them, but I won't go."

Them?
Who the hell was she talking about? "Who's in there with you?"

"Dwarves,
with light green skin and big heads. The little men talk to me through a box
that looks like a radio, but it's not a radio. They want to take me with them.
Sam?" More sobbing. "I don't want to go, Sam. Please don't make me
go."

Oh, man
.
She was fried, but he knew it was only temporary. "They drugged you to
make you see things. I don't know what good it will do now, but try sticking
your finger down your throat to make yourself throw up. Understand?"

"Throw
up? Already did that. Felt funny, head all tingly, lights too bright. So I made
myself get sick."

He
heaved a relieved breath. "Good. Very good. Maybe the effects of Valya's drug
won't last long."

"Jake's
in here with me, but he can't see the little men. Only I can see them."

At
least he wouldn't have to go searching through camp for Jake. This rescue
mission might actually be easier than he'd first thought, though he couldn't
stop worrying about Kelly. The drugs Valya had used in the past were a mixture
of peyote and a variety of herbs to stimulate the mind. There was no telling
how much Kelly had ingested. Out of spite, Valya might have made her a toxic
potion instead. He prayed that hadn't been the case.

Quick,
short footsteps approached from behind him. Sam spun around, his knife poised
to strike. He immediately lowered it when he saw who it was. "Consuela?"

The
young woman nodded, beaming at him and standing on tiptoes to reach her arms
around his neck in a desperate embrace.

He
pulled away. "What are you doing here?"

Consuela
pointed at the horizon, where the tail of Anston's comet sparkled against the
black desert sky.

"No-no-no-no!"
Kelly said. "Don't trust her. Don't trust her. Sam, it's a trap! Consuela
is the enemy!"

Sam
glanced at the closed trailer door then back at Consuela. She wasn't their
enemy but a dear friend. He didn't know why she was here, but he didn't care as
long as she helped them escape. "I'm glad you're all right, Consuela."

Consuela
nodded and grabbed his hand, pulling him away from the trailer.

He
resisted. "We have to get Kelly out first. Did you know she was in there?
With her brother?"

She
gave him a blank look and tugged his hand, trying to make him follow.

Something
wasn't right. If Consuela had been kidnapped and brought to Star Mother's camp,
no way would Valya allow her to roam free like this. Which meant she was here
by choice. "What's going on, Consuela?"

Her
expression turned from hopeful to disappointed, and she dropped his hand.

Sam
sensed another presence behind him. He instinctively crouched low and rolled
beneath the trailer. Emerging on the other side, he sprang to his feet to race
across the courtyard, heading for the generators. He figured he still had a
chance to disable Star Mother's death machines before he got caught.

A
flurry of running footsteps pattered across the sunbaked earth, all headed in
his direction. Though the night was dark as pitch, Sam's eyes had adjusted
enough to discern the outlines of tents, vehicles, and the sentries running
toward him.

He
yanked his Glock from the shoulder holster beneath his jacket and aimed it at
the onslaught of sentries.

The
robed men slowed to a cautious walk but didn't stop their advance. Sam backed
his way to the generators, all the while his gun trained on the small army
coming his way.

The
gun steady in his hands, he thumbed the safety free. "Not another step."

The
troop came to a halt.

He
tugged the penlight from an inside pocket and switched it on, feeling behind
him for the generator. "I'm disabling your suicide contraption, then you're
going to let Kelly and her brother out of that sewage box. Got it?"

If
anyone nodded, he couldn't tell in the dark, and no one said a word. But he
could see each of them well enough to know where their body parts were.

"If
none of you want your leg shot to hell, I advise you not to interfere. My aim
could be off in the dark so it's hard saying what part of you I'll hit."

With
the penlight clenched in his teeth, Sam turned his head to train the light on
the generator closest to him. He found a tangled mass of wires and cables but
nothing he recognized. He needed more light to locate the spark plugs. Whatever
damage he could improvise would have to do for now. He grabbed a loop of wires
and pulled.

The
sound of movement to his left made him turn in that direction. The penlight
showed him a pale visage with lips pulled back in a snarl, eyes wild, arms
outstretched as if for a hug. Sam swung the gun around to aim at his attacker,
but he wasn't fast enough. A pair of spindly arms grabbed him around the waist
and tackled him to the ground.

The
impact of several bodies landing on top of him had him gasping for air, his
chest crushed beneath the combined weight of the men. He pushed and struggled,
his throat spasming as he tried to take in air.

Someone
shouted, "Enough!"

The
pressure on his chest eased as the sentries slid off him, one by one. Sam
choked in gulps of dust-filled air, coughing and gagging. He lay on his back,
his gun hand now empty.

A
stoic white figure towered above him. "Nice to see you again, Sam."

Sam
pushed himself to his elbows and spit out a mouthful of dirt. "Wish I
could say the same, Von. Ready for your trip?"

The
giant man, who exceeded seven feet without shoes, wagged his great white head,
as if chastising a naughty child. "You never learn, do you? Which is why
you and I never got along."

Masking
the hate he felt for the man, Sam grinned up at him. "We never got along
because you and your wife are psychopaths."