Desert Guardian (26 page)

He
came a breath away from asking Kelly to stay and share that responsibility with
him. It wasn't difficult to imagine her as a mother. She was a natural. Just
seeing the way she cared for Jake was proof of that. But she already had a
life, a life in Phoenix, and it didn't include him. He couldn't expect her to
give that up without giving her something in return. "Raising a kid can't
be so tough. I raised myself okay. I think I can handle it."

She
glanced up at him then at the camp. "I don't see anyone out in the open
now. It's probably safe for us to go in."

He
grasped her shoulders and turned her to face him. "A kiss for good luck?"

After
a momentary pause, she nodded and slid her arms around his neck, her gaze
lingering on every part of his face but never meeting his eyes. She looked so
sad. Her eyelids closed, and she tilted her head to the side, her lips parting
in invitation.

He
bent and touched his mouth to hers, tentatively at first, testing her acceptance.
When her lips softened against his, he deepened the kiss, savoring the
sweetness he remembered from the day before. Breathless, they separated.

Stepping
back with her head bowed to stare at her feet, she said softly, "I'll miss
you when I go home to Arizona."

"I'll
miss you, too." And he meant it with all his heart.

Kelly
approached the end of the rock pile, her ears still buzzing from the blood that
had rushed there when Sam kissed her. Her memory of yesterday's lovemaking had come
back to her all at once, and delicious sensation melted through her skin. She
was on fire all over again. It took the reality of their situation to quench
the flames.

Too
much had happened between them all at once. Were they now in a real
relationship? She wanted it to be. Never having had a lover who mattered enough
to commit to, she wasn't sure she understood what real love felt like.

And
where in the world was Jake? He couldn't have simply disappeared. Though she
worried for his safety, just knowing that Cody would find him and stay with him
offered some comfort.

"You
better run ahead of me," Sam said as he limped up beside her. "I've
got a hitch in my giddy-up, and a tortoise could outrun me now."

She
hated the idea of returning to the camp alone. The welts on her back throbbed
at the very thought. "I don't know how to shut down the generators."

"Leave
that to me," he said. "You just get yourself inside Valya's tent and
take Lynette. I'm guessing they'll both be unconscious by the time you get there."

Unconscious.
Or worse. "How long does it take carbon monoxide to kill someone?"

"Both
tents are large and not air tight. A lot of the gas will leak out through gaps
in the canvas, and it will take time for it to lethally affect the people
inside. But exposure for too long isn't healthy."

Time
was something they had in short supply. "You're sure?"

He
nodded. "Just grab Lynette and get her the hell out of there. Do you know
CPR?"

"Yes."
Kelly's heart beat double-time. "I'm a phys ed teacher. It's a job requirement."

"Good.
Because she may need it."

"What
about Valya?"

Sam
narrowed his eyes. "Lynette first. Then Valya, if it's not too late. Von,
too, of course, if he's still alive."

"And
the others?" A picture formed in her mind of more than eighty people gasping
their last breath. There was no way she could resuscitate them all.

"God
willing, I'll have the generators shut down before the carbon monoxide can do
permanent damage." He pointed at the largest tent, the one that would
house the most people. "The tent windows and door flaps need to be opened
as soon as you can get to them."

Jake
had left behind the towel they'd used to cool his forehead, and Kelly grabbed
it off the backseat, ripping it in half. She offered a piece to Sam, saying, "Sand
in our lungs is the last thing we need." She wrapped the rag around her
nose and mouth then knotted it behind her head, and did the same for Sam.

He
reached inside the Jeep to pop open the glove box and withdrew two pairs of
sunglasses. He handed her one.

Looking
like a couple of bandits from an old Western movie, they emerged from behind
the rocks to stand out in the open. They gazed into the distance, where the
cult's camp seemed to waver in the sandstorm. The canvas walls of the smaller
tents billowed in the wind and looked like sails in a sea of sand.

He
grabbed her hand. "Be careful."

She
slipped on the dark glasses and breathed deeply through her cloth mask,
preparing herself for a hard run. Her words muffled, she looked at Sam and
said, "No macho stuff."

He
said nothing.

She
sighed and added, "Don't get yourself hurt, Sam. Lynette needs you. And so
do I."

Without
waiting for a response, she took off at a dead run.

Gusts
of amber sand whipped through the desert air, making it hard to see far into
the distance. They had judged the camp at about a half mile away, maybe less.
She rarely sprinted like this, but she couldn't risk a leisurely jog. The towel
mask filtered out most of the sand, and though her mouth was gritty with the
stuff, her lungs were clear, and she felt no need to slow down.

Tiny
grains of sand pinged off the lenses of her sunglasses. Sweat trickled down her
forehead, and she swiped it away with the back of her hand. Lungs burning,
Kelly worried that she had farther to go than she had originally thought. Her
thigh muscles began to cramp, and the saliva in her throat thickened as she
gasped air through the mask. If she didn't arrive at the camp soon, she'd have
to slacken her pace.

Counting
time in her head, she concentrated on a steady rhythm of footfalls. The baked ground
beneath her feet was hard as concrete. Each running step vibrated the soles of
her tennis shoes and jarred her shins and knees. Tomorrow her body would pay in
pain, but it was a small price compared to the loss of innocent lives if she
failed to get there in time.

The
sandstorm waned as she neared the camp, but instead of slowing down, she raced
faster, her legs pumping. She didn't stop until she stood a dozen feet from the
black tent. Kelly wondered if Von had survived the bullet his wife had shot
into his back.

The
wind had dulled to a mild roar, but she listened for any sign of an ambush. The
camp lay still as a ghost town. Her pulse quickened, and she strained to hear
the generators. A rumbling hum sifted faintly through the blustering wind.

Leery
of any stray cultists who might be lurking, she poked her head inside Valya's
tent. A shallow fog of exhaust fumes crawled along the floor. On a small cot
between Valya and Von's prone bodies lay Lynette, her narrow chest and thin
little legs strapped down with leather belts. Her arms struggled to free
themselves, and she twisted her head to stare at Kelly. The child's deep gray
eyes were round with fear, but she didn't utter a sound. A cloth gag ensured
her silence.

****

Sam
rummaged through the spilled tools from his toolbox. He grabbed a pair of wire
cutters and shoved them in an inside pocket of his jacket. He snatched up his
crude-but-workable crutch and set off at a fast limp toward the camp.

After
about a hundred yards, his armpit burned from constant chafing by the rough
bark at the crook of his crutch. The wood had torn through the seam of his
jacket sleeve, and splinters now poked into the sensitive skin under his arms.
He tossed the crutch aside and hobbled on.

He
suspected the moist warmth running down his leg wasn't sweat. A thin trail of
blood had trickled down his bare leg to disappear into the tops of his boots.
Nothing he could do about it now. The bleeding would stop when he did. He
forced himself to move faster.

The
storm was a fickle one—whirling sand one minute, a mild breeze the next.
He had watched Kelly fly through the worst of it, her long, coltish legs
sprinting in graceful strides across the baked desert floor. Thinking about the
possible danger she faced lit a fire under his feet, and he blasted into
overdrive.

He
glanced left to right as he hurried ahead, keeping his eye out for Jake. The
moment the generators were stopped and Lynette was safe, Jake would become his
first priority. In the meantime, he felt certain Cody would find him and keep
him safe.

Sam
finally arrived at the camp's perimeter, and the rumble of generator engines
lured him on, guiding him toward a crude shack built of wood scraps and old
tent canvas. Two hoses snaked across the ground and disappeared into both large
tents. The hoses were bolted to the ground, and he considered trying to free them
of their moorings, but that would take too long. He'd stick to his original
plan. Reaching into his pocket, he found the wire cutters that would put an end
to Star Mothers' death wish.

The
sound of fast footsteps came a second before a pair of arms locked around his
knees. Thrown off balance, he slammed face-first to the ground.

Using
his one good leg, he kicked at the man holding him down. "Are you crazy?
Get off me. Everyone will die if I don't shut these down."

"Not
die," said the breathless sentry. "Transmigrate. And I'll join them
right after I take you out."

"Like
hell!" Sam slammed a booted foot into the man's face, knocking him
backward.

The
wire cutters clutched in his fist, Sam jumped to his feet. Pain shot through
his injured leg. He ignored it and lurched for the shack. He tore away a ragged
plank of plywood to reveal the idling generators that pumped poisonous exhaust
into the tents. But not for long.

He
ripped a scrap of canvas from one of the shack's walls, and muted light flowed
inside. A gust of wind tossed sand in as well, obscuring his view of the spark
plugs he searched for. While waving his hands to clear the murky air, he was
again tackled from behind.

He
landed on his right side, the impact shooting a blaze of fire through his leg.
He sucked in a breath and gritted his teeth against the pain.

The
sentry wasn't much of a fighter, and he used only his weight to hold Sam down.
The whale of a man grunted with effort, his labored breathing testament to a
sedentary lifestyle. One of Star Mother's notorious hackers, no doubt.

Lying
prone with his legs pinned, Sam couldn't move anything but his upper body. He
twisted to his right, swinging his left arm back to stab the wire cutters into
the sentry's thigh. The man howled and rolled off Sam, who struggled to stand
on one foot. When the sentry came at him again, he head-butted the man's ample
belly. The sentry doubled over as his breath rushed out in a single grunt. Sam
plowed into him again, shoving him backward into the shack. The structure
collapsed on impact, and the sentry banged into the nearest machine so hard
that Sam heard something crack. He couldn't tell whether it was the sentry's
head or a part on the generator, but whatever it was knocked the big man out cold.
His massive bulk slumped to the ground and stayed there.

His
wire cutters slick with the sentry's blood, Sam moved in to snip the spark plug
wires from the first generator.

****

Kelly
rushed to Lynette's cot. The girl's eyes rolled back in her head, though she
appeared to struggle at keeping them open. "Atta girl. Stay with me. I'll have
you out in a jiffy." She unbuckled the belts around the child's legs and
arms.

Once
Lynette was free, it was obvious she couldn't walk on her own. Kelly would have
to carry her. She herself was already feeling the effects of the gas. "Hurry
up, Sam." Her crude mask was less than adequate protection.

She
coughed out noxious air from her lungs then held her breath while gathering
Lynette into her arms. The child moaned and lay limp against her chest.

Relieved
she had arrived in time, Kelly stood and started toward the tent's entrance. A
hand shot out from the cot beside her. It grabbed hold of Lynette's arm.

"No,"
Valya muttered. Her speech slurred, she added, "You can't... take her. She's
mine."

Kelly
tried to pull Lynette away, but Valya's grip was too strong. She pried at Valya's
bony fingers, but they curled even tighter around the child's arm. "Let
go!" Kelly yelled, her head fuzzy, her eyelids growing heavy as she was
forced to gasp in the poisonous air.

Valya
was weakened from the combination of her drugs and the carbon monoxide, but she
managed to concentrate the last of her strength on Lynette. Her glassy,
unfocused eyes silently begged Kelly to let the girl go.

Still
yanking at Valya's death grip, Kelly dropped feebly to her knees, Lynette still
clutched protectively in her arms.

A
fog of uncertainty settled in her mind. She struggled to clear it, thinking she
could save herself if she wanted to. There was no stopping her from escaping
the tent and leaving Lynette to die in her mother's arms. Nothing stopping her
but her morals and an indelible conscience. The very idea made her stomach
turn. Her instinct to survive be damned. Either she'd leave the tent with
Lynette, or she wouldn't leave at all.

Teeth
clinched with determination, Kelly heaved back a fist and landed a solid blow
to the center of Valya's pale face. With a grunt, the woman fell back hard
against the cot and released her grip on Lynette as she lost consciousness.

A
smile of triumph tugged at Kelly's lips, but it was premature. She glanced down
at Lynette, who lay motionless in her arms. The slight rise and fall of the
child's chest was the only sign she still lived.

Fresh air. Need fresh air.
It
was a single thought, the only coherent one Kelly had, and she clung to it
fiercely. Too weak to stand, she dragged herself and Lynette across the floor
toward the doorway. It was only a dozen or so feet away, but it might as well have
been a mile. Fatigue burned through the muscles in her arms and legs. Darkness
nibbled at the edges of her consciousness. She wasn't going to make it.

She
sensed a presence in front of her and vaguely recognized a figure in the
doorway. Sam? Why wasn't he helping her? She gazed up, commanding her mind to
make sense of the blurred image that was more shadow than light. She blinked,
and the amorphous shape came into focus.

Her
mind could have been playing tricks, but the dark-haired woman in the doorway
looked exactly like Sam's housekeeper, Consuela Martinez.