Iris Johansen - Chasing the Night

Kelly shook her head. “No, I won’t,” she said dully. “No one is safe.”

How could Catherine argue when she knew that was true? “As safe as you can be. Wait at the stream no more than about five minutes, then take off running north. Don’t wait for me.”

Kelly glanced back over her shoulder, her blue eyes wide. “You think Munoz may catch you.”

“No, but if he does, you don’t want him to get his hands on you again. Then he’d win, wouldn’t he? If you’re smart, he won’t be able to catch you.” She put her finger on her lips. “No more talk. Run!”

Kelly didn’t hesitate. She was already on her feet and streaking into the shrubbery.

Good.

Now to make sure any pursuit was disrupted and thrown off track when they heard the sound of the helicopter.

And the best way to do that would be to remove Munoz himself from the mix.

No guards at his tent. From the reports she’d read, Munoz was too macho-arrogant to think he would need help in any situation.

Let’s see if you do, Munoz.

She started crawling toward his tent.

Munoz went limp against Catherine’s body as her dagger entered his heart.

She pushed at him and struggled to free herself from his bulk.

It had been close. He had been almost as good as he thought he was. Her side was bleeding, but she had no time to deal with it now.

Get out of Munoz’s tent. Their struggle had been brief and almost silent, but she couldn’t be sure that someone didn’t hear.

Move!

The stream was just ahead.

She saw the glint of moonlight on Kelly’s fair hair.

“Run!” Catherine broke through the shrubbery that bordered the stream and grabbed the girl’s hand. “We don’t have much time before the helicopter gets here.”

“I thought you weren’t coming.”

For a moment back in Munoz’s tent she had thought the same thing. Munoz had been awake and lethal. “I had something I had to do.” Did she hear the sound of rotors to the north? “Don’t talk. Run!”

Running.

Pushing through the bushes.

The earth soft beneath their feet.

Two miles to go.

It was the helicopter. Catherine could hear it plainly now.

And if she could hear it, Munoz’s men would be hearing it.

Kelly glanced up at her in panic. “Are they coming after us?”

“Not yet.” But it wouldn’t be long. Munoz was dead, but his men wouldn’t chance there being anyone left alive to bear witness. “We’re almost there.”

But five minutes later Catherine heard crashing in the bushes behind them. How close?

The glade was just ahead. She could see the blue lights of the helicopter as it started to land.

But Kelly was faltering, slowing.

“No!”

Catherine grabbed her hand and half pulled her, streaking toward the helicopter. “Only a few yards more.”

Ron Timbers stepped out of the shadows and was opening the door of the Apache helicopter for her. “You cut it close, Catherine. Her father?”

“Dead.” She pushed Kelly into the copter and climbed in after her. “Tell that pilot, Neely, to get out of here. They’re only a step behind us.”

Timbers glanced at her shirt as he jumped in after her and headed for the cockpit. “There’s blood all over you. The kid?”

“No. Kelly is fine. Tell that pilot to move!”

He was already moving. Seconds later they were lifting off.

But not soon enough.

A bullet buried itself in the fuselage of the copter.

Another shattered the windshield.

Kelly froze. “Are we going to die now?”

“No.” Catherine’s arms closed fiercely around her. She hoped she was telling the truth. They’d be okay if they didn’t get the gas tank. “I’ve got you. We’re out of here.”

Another bullet struck a rotor with a loud ping.

“Just a minute more, and we’ll be out of range,” Timbers called back to them.

If they made it through that minute.

“Your heart’s beating so hard,” Kelly whispered. “Are you scared?”

“Yes, it’s stupid not to be scared if someone’s trying to hurt you. You just have to hold on and either wait or fight back.” She smiled down at her. “But you have to realize that they can’t really hurt you. Maybe your body, but not what you are inside. That’s what’s important. None of the rest matters.”

“All clear,” Timbers called back to them.

Catherine gave a sigh of relief. “But it seems we don’t have to worry about anything right now. We’re on our way. In a few minutes, I’ll call Agent Venable and tell him to meet us at the airport in Bogotá. He’ll be very relieved. Everyone has been worried about you.”

Kelly was silent a moment. “But Daddy is dead.”

It was natural that after the first explosion of danger was over, the girl’s hideous memories would surface. Distract her. Keep her busy. “I need your help.” She sat up and reached for the first-aid kit fastened to the wall. “I’m hurt and bleeding a little. Will you bandage it for me?”

“I’m not sure I know how.” Kelly’s eyes widened as she watched Catherine take off her black shirt and saw the deep cut in her side. Her lips tightened. “But I’ll try. Tell me what to do.”

“First the antiseptic. Take a pad and clean the wound. The bleeding seems to have almost stopped.” But it had bled enough to make her feel woozy, she realized. “I’m a little tired. Don’t be afraid if I fall asleep.”

“You mean pass out,” she said bluntly.

“I guess that is what I mean.” She leaned back against the wall. “But if I do pass out, it won’t be for long, and the pilot knows how to take you home to your mother.”

“My mother doesn’t want me.” Kelly was dabbing at the wound. “That’s why I live-lived with my daddy.”

Great. After a nightmare like this, the kid didn’t even have someone to hold on to until she healed. If she healed. No, Catherine wouldn’t accept that possibility. Kelly would heal. She was strong, or she wouldn’t have been able to survive what had happened to her. Just that time in that tent with the remains of her father should have made her catatonic. “Your mother may want you more than you think. Sometimes when parents quarrel, things are said that aren’t really true.”

“No,” she whispered. “Daddy said she feels uncomfortable around me.” She put the pad aside and sat back on her heels. “It’s okay. Daddy said it wasn’t my fault. I’m just not like her. She thinks I’m weird. I think your cut is clean. What else should I do?”

“Just put a couple gauze pads and tape across the wound. That will be fine until I get to a doctor.” She paused. “You did that very well, Kelly. Thank you.”

“I studied first aid at camp last year. Most of the other stuff was pretty dumb, but that was kind of neat. But this was different. Real blood.” She took the gauze from the package. “You could have done this yourself. You thought it would help me to do it.”

Smart girl. It was amazing that she had been able to see through Catherine’s subterfuge considering the shock she was suffering. And there was no doubt that she was hurting. The girl’s hands were shaking, and her blue eyes were wide and haunted. Everything about her seemed terribly fragile and childlike. She was delicately boned and appeared younger than her fourteen years. “Yes, I could have done it. But it was easier for me to have you do it. And if it helped you, too, that was a plus.” Her lips twisted. “And there’s not much that can be considered a plus in what happened tonight.”

“Or yesterday.” Kelly turned away and quickly snapped the first-aid kit shut. Her voice was muffled. “It was because of me he died, you know. He tried to keep Munoz from hurting me. Munoz came into the tent angry and shouting and he was saying that he’d been screwed and he was going to get his own back. He tore my clothes and-” Her voice broke.