Chapter Twenty-Nine
Kini woke with a start, sitting up before freezing in place. A gunshot echoed outside the dimly lit room. The two glow sticks still shone, but their light was starting to fade.
Another gunshot followed the first, then the distant sound of an engine…no, multiple engines…fading as they moved away. The searchers were out there and were shooting at something, or someone.
The spot where Smoke had slept still held the impression of his body in the dirt, but when she put her hand on the soil, no heat remained. So, he’d left more than a few minutes ago. His backpack sat where he’d left it, but the piece of paper propped up against it was new.
Stay inside until I get back.
Gone to scout the way out.
Won’t kill anyone.
Smoke.
She snorted. Most people would be slightly horrified to see the promise not to commit murder, but they didn’t know Smoke. Didn’t know what a huge concession that was. She’d learned nothing would stop him from doing whatever he thought had to be done.
The gunshots that woke her nagged at her.
How long had he been gone? He was an experienced tracker and soldier, probably knew more about sneaking around than any other twenty people. But what if he’d been caught, or shot?
How long should she wait?
Her watch said it was after one o’clock in the morning; she’d slept longer than she thought.
The sound of more engines, not trucks or cars, more like motorcycles or dirt bikes. Multiple vehicles going in different directions.
Something had stirred things up.
She could imagine Smoke and all of his six-foot-three hotness stirring a lot of things up. But her going out there, when he’d asked her to wait, was stupid. So, she’d wait.
She rested in Smoke’s spot and let sleep take her under.
It felt like only five minutes had passed when she woke again. The two glow sticks had dimmed significantly but still emitted enough light to read her watch. Four thirty.
Still no Smoke.
Stomach sinking into the dirt beneath her, she stared at his backpack. He wouldn’t have left her to go get help, back to town, by himself. No, he wouldn’t have taken that chance. So, he was injured and couldn’t make it back to his hideout, or he’d been captured by whoever was searching for them. The thought settled over her like a wet blanket, uncomfortable and cold. She wasn’t leaving him for the buzzards to finish off.
The backpack had two more bottles of water and several protein bars. She ate one and drank half a bottle of water then examined the rest of the contents. First aid kit, paracord, the knife he’d tried to give her earlier, matches in a waterproof container, a fishhook attached to a length of rolled-up fishing line, and an emergency blanket.
Fishing gear…in the desert?
Was there a super-secret fishing hole not on any map? Well, she’d ask him when she caught up to him. No other outcome was acceptable.
Kini put everything away in the pack and had to hop to grab the edge of the structure and pull herself up, but managed, then wiggled her way out.
Dawn wasn’t yet on the horizon, but she had no trouble making out the terrain. Nothing moved. Just because she couldn’t see any danger didn’t mean there wasn’t any. The air outside was cool, almost cold, and the only sounds she heard were the songs of insects. No barking dogs, no dirt bike or ATV engines, or human voices.
After climbing down the dirt face of Smoke’s hideout, she moved on cautious feet to the exit of the gully. Still no hint of pursuit or search, yet the cold lump in the pit of her gut only got larger and heavier.
Where were the men searching for her? And where was Smoke?
She entered the canyon and headed in the direction of the washout—she’d decide her next move once she got that far. She tried to emulate the way Smoke walked, but found his silent, easy pace wasn’t easy to adopt.
Probably making enough noise to alert the media.
As she passed a large rock, a low, rough voice whispered her name.
“Who’s there?”
Smoke’s grandfather stepped away from the rock and toward her.
“How do you do that?” she asked, mystified by what could only be family trait to hide in plain sight.
“That?” he asked in a careful voice.
“Are you chameleons or something?”
His white teeth flashed a smile in the darkness, there and gone again. “Where’s Smoke?”
“I don’t know.” That lump in her stomach expanded until she could barely breathe. “You haven’t seen him?”
A shake of his head. “He called River a few hours ago, told him you were hiding in his little house, and asked for an extraction. No contact since.”
A few hours ago, she’d heard shots. The ball of ice in her gut was so cold it burned.
“No Smoke?” asked another voice from behind her.
Whirling to confront this new evidence that she needed her hearing checked, she discovered Smoke’s father, Jim, standing not five feet away, a rifle in his hands.
“How do you…all of you…sneak up on people like this?” she demanded in a croak.
Why bother breathing at all? Every time she got over one shock, another showed up in time to knock the breath out of her again.
“No,” Smoke’s grandfather said.
She could see his father’s face harden with worry as he digested this news.
“A few hours ago, several shots woke me,” she told them. “I could hear engines—ATV engines—and men shouting, but I’d made Smoke a promise not to leave his kiva until he got back.”
“You think he was caught?” Jim sounded offended.
“I think a bullet can change the dynamics of any situation. He’s not bulletproof.”
“Who took him?” asked Smoke’s grandfather.
“Where did they take him?” asked Jim.
“Smoke said there was some kind of large light source north of the canyon. He went to scout it out, find a way for us to reach help without getting caught by whoever is chasing me.”
“That’s the jojoba and marijuana farm,” Jim said. “Nathan’s been working there for the last six months.”
When she stared at him in shock, he added, “The government set it up to produce oil without the THC in it.”
“Why would anyone from a government-backed farm be involved with an illegal drug lab?” She couldn’t imagine a reason to explain the odd connections things seemed to have around here.
“You heard shots?” Grandfather Smoke asked.
“Yes, um, maybe four or five.”
“There isn’t anything out here besides the farm,” Jim said.
Grandfather Smoke nodded once. “We check there first.”
“How will we do that?” Kini asked, looking from one man to the other. “Without getting caught by the men searching for me?”
“I’ll go to the front door and ask for Nathan,” the older Smoke said. “You cut the fence and sneak in.”
Jim shook his head. “No, we don’t have time for bullshit. I say we all go through the front door.”
“But—” Kini began.
“You’re right,” Grandpa Smoke said. “None of them city boys is going to expect any of us to be much of a threat.”
Kini blinked. He was including her in that statement?
“I’m a threat?” she asked, unable to keep the incredulous tone out of her voice.
Both men snorted.
“I’ve seen you in action,” Jim said. “When you get mad, no man’s balls are safe.”
“Oh.” She hadn’t thought about her preference for going for the groin first as something other people might notice. Should she feel bad about that? “I’m still not sure we should just walk up to the front door.”
“It will be the last thing they expect,” Jim said.
“They’ll believe none of us knows they’re searching for you,” Grandpa Smoke added.
“Besides, you look like hell. We go in asking for medical help, and they’re not going to suspect we know they’re up to no good.”
Was she supposed to feel insulted or complimented? Perhaps she’d stick with middle of the road. “Thanks.”
“Dawn isn’t far off. We’d best get going.”
The two men led Kini to the dry stream bed at the bottom of the canyon and the two horses picketed there. They mounted and Kini got on behind Grandpa Smoke.
Dawn’s pale light added hints of coral and pink to the horizon when they trotted up to the main gate for the farm. A man in a uniform with the company name on his chest and the title of security met them as the two Smokes dismounted.
“We found this gal out in the desert,” Jim said as Grandpa Smoke helped her get down off the horse.
Holy shit, she’d only been riding for less than an hour and already her thighs hurt.
“She’s dehydrated and injured,” Jim continued. “And keeps telling us she was kidnapped by some kind of drug dealer. Please call for the police and an ambulance.”
The security guard stared at her with his mouth hanging open, so Kini did her best to look like an exhausted, confused, pain-addled woman.
She must have appeared convincing, because the guard attempted to hide his triumphant smile behind a concerned expression and said, “Hold on for just a minute while I call this in.” He took a couple of steps toward his shack before he turned and said while walking backward, “I’m sure the shift supervisor will give the okay to assist.”
She almost laughed. Yep, that was probably a given.
The guard spoke in some kind of handheld radio, then he buzzed the gate open.
Jim helped Kini walk into the compound while Grandpa Smoke led the horses.
The guard put his hands up, palm out. “I’m sorry, sir, you can’t bring your horses onto the property. Safety regulations.”
One of the horses chose that moment to lift its tail and defecate on the middle of the road.
The guard’s jaw dropped for the second time in as many minutes.
Grandpa Smoke glanced at the pile of poop, nodded sagely, then walked the horses to one side of the gate and tied their reins to the fence. He joined Jim and her.
They kept walking past the chain-link gate as the guard went into his shack and activated the gate. He came running out, yelling, “If you could wait there, a car is coming for you.”
“Why would we need a car?” Jim asked. “The building is right there.” He waved a hand at the main entrance. They kept going.
A jeep came around the building at a reckless speed. It sped toward them so fast Kini wasn’t sure it was going to be able to stop before running them down. It did stop, with a slight squeal of tires on the pavement, and two men scrambled out, their hands on Tasers holstered to their belts.
Jim, who’d done all the talking so far, frowned at them. “Give us a hand. She’s severely dehydrated and someone beat the crap out of her.”
The two men glanced at each other then approached cautiously.
“When and where did you find her?” one of them asked, extending a hand toward the entrance.
“Down in the canyon about an hour ago,” Jim replied.
Grandpa Smoke must be biding his time before saying anything.
“Awfully early to be out for a ride,” the other man commented after a glance at the horses.
Jim shrugged. “We left yesterday. Decided to camp out.”
They were almost at the door now.
“Where’s your gear?” the same man asked, suspicion turning his tone sharp.
Jim laughed. “You city boys might need a truck load of crap, but it’s no hardship for us to light a fire and watch the stars dance while we think.”
Grandpa Smoke managed to look like a man who knew all the secrets of the universe.
The two men relaxed enough for one of them to dash ahead and open the door. The second man followed them in.
There was no one behind the large reception desk. Too early. The man in front led the way down a hallway to the left of the desk. Not far down was a door with a red cross on it.
Inside was a typical first-aid room with a cot along one wall, an examination table on the other, and a desk and chair in between.
Jim sat her on the cot and looked at the men crowding the doorway. “Water?”
Grandpa Smoke had to back out the door to let one of the men exit.
“Did you already call for an ambulance?” Jim asked the remaining man.
“Yes, sir. Did that before we met you outside.”
“Good. She’s been through something awful.”
“How do you know that?”
“She keeps talking about an explosion. If she’s got a concussion, it might explain why she’s so confused.” Jim glanced at the man. “You boys seen or heard any kind of explosion or fire?”
“No, sir.” The reply was quick, too quick.
The radio on the man’s belt went off. Someone said, “ETA ten minutes. Keep the subject contained.”
He turned the volume on the radio way down.
Jim stared at the guy.
“Sorry about that, the ambulance is on its way.”
“Keep the subject contained?” Jim asked, sounding only mildly curious.
“It’s how the security chief talks,” the guy said with a shrug.
“Why would your security chief be involved with a medical situation?”
“Security and medical are all one department.”
The guy could think on his feet okay, but his body language needed work. His face all but shouted bullshit.
The other man arrived with a bottle of water, which he offered to Jim, who opened it and gave it to her. She sipped it, making her hand shake in a way that would have spilled it all over herself if she tried to gulp it.
Jim got to his feet, nodded like he was satisfied with something, and turned to offer his hand to the nearest man. “Thanks for your hospitality. I’ll leave her in your capable hands.”
The guard made no move to take it.