Chapter Twelve

It was time and Veronica was ready.

Thankfully her ship’s AI had known how to dock itself because if it

hadn’t then figuring out how to do so would have been its own

nightmare. Wearing one of her Matrix suits again, she took

the time to check all her weapons before leaving the ship. She

could see the abandoned boat Victor had left behind several yards

away. Judging by how a medium-sized dent puckered from where the

ship’s galley was, the thing looked to have been ransacked for food

and drink. Otherwise it appeared to be intact.

She hesitated. Should she leave the key to

the boat inside the vessel just in case someone needed the ship to

flee? What if she ended up being that person though?

Thinking quickly, Veronica decided to leave the key inside the

cabin, but not in plain sight. That would give her the time she

needed to make her way to the castle and see if Victor’s science

experiment worked twice. If it didn’t, she’d be taking a voyage to

who knew where in this boat; if it did work then it didn’t matter

who found the key because she wouldn’t be needing it.

Disembarking, the thick mist from the sea

created a dense fog for as far as the eye could perceive. Victor

had told her she’d be able to visually locate Castle Cumhacht from

the dock, but she couldn’t. The visibility was pure haze, matching

her current ambivalent mood. Basically, she would be going ashore

with a major handicap. She hoped and prayed the fog relented when

she got in deeper.

The laptop was closed and in her satchel,

but she spoke to her brother nonetheless. After all, he could still

hear and see her. “This is it,” she whispered. “In case I don’t

make it, just know I love you, Victor. I did all this just to be

with you.” She decided to throw the big guy a bone too.

Semi-smiling, she said, “And tell Laird Kong he wouldn’t have been

a bad choice in a husband. It’s not exactly how we do it in our

time, but still.”

She didn’t know why those words had come out

of her mouth, but there it was. For some damn reason or another,

the giant’s feelings mattered to her. Just a little, she told

herself. Only a little.

Deciding that she’d made her peace with

whatever lay ahead, Veronica palmed a gun in each hand and exited

the dock. It was, as the old-timers liked to say, showtime.

*****

Lachlan’s heart squeezed a bit at her words.

His clan name was Gunn, not Kong, but that was a speech for another

time and place. Filled with nervous energy, and uncertain what to

do with it, he began pacing behind Victor as they both watched

Veronica go ashore.

“Did we miss anything?” Finn asked as he and

Ramsay made their way into Victor’s bedchamber. He closed its heavy

doors. “Is she here?”

“She’s here,” Lachlan confirmed, absently

running a hand over the stubble on his jaw. “But still in the

future.”

Finn and Ramsay stood off to the side

watching as Lachlan continued to pace. He hated the helplessness he

was experiencing. ‘Twas driving him daft, this.

“I never told her I loved her,” Victor said

softly, his back to him. “She said it to me, but I didn’t think to

say it to her when she could see and hear me.” He sounded tired,

tortured. Lachlan came to a standstill.

“What if she doesn’t make it?” Victor asked

everyone and no one. “What if—”

“Cease this talk,” Lachlan ordered him. He

cleared his throat and attempted to sound less harsh. “She kens you

love her. Look at all you have done to save her.”

His words seemed to calm him a wee bit. “You

think so?”

“Aye. I do.”

Lachlan resumed his pacing. He was grateful

Victor’s expression was one of relief. Now if only someone could

calm his own fears. ‘Twould be a boon, that.

*****

Veronica moved in silence, the castle at

last in view. It was a good mile away, but definitely visible. The

structure was dilapidated and ancient, but it gave her the bearings

she needed. She continued to move slowly and soundlessly, her goal

to avoid as many eaters as possible. She hoped the six-pack had

retreated from the old Gunn grounds, but was prepared if they

hadn’t.

Castle Cumhacht had likely been an

impenetrable fortress during its heyday. The sea to its back and

hilly terrain to its front, she could envision warriors lining the

battlements, archers prepared at the arrowslits, the portcullis

lowered against would-be invaders. Hopefully she’d soon see it in

all its glory.

She moved through the mist, her visibility

much better to her front, but still far from ideal at her back.

Methodically snaking her way toward the castle grounds, a gun still

palmed in each hand, her heartbeat picked up a little as adrenaline

kicked in. All of her senses were on high alert. They had to

be.

The wristband her brother had insisted she

wear began to beep, likely alerting her that she was close to the

precise spot where she needed to be. She cursed under her breath,

praying the sound wouldn’t draw attention to her. What were you

thinking, Victor? His one misstep in what had otherwise been a

perfect plan so far.

A guttural growl pierced the quiet. Veronica

whirled around, a bit disoriented by the fog and unable to locate

the precise direction the echo had come from. More growls and

hisses. Her nostrils flared as her gaze scanned the mist as quickly

and thoroughly as humanly possible. The eaters might be able to see

in this haze, just like they could see at night. The thought

chilled her to the bone.

One of the dead appeared out of nowhere,

bloody fangs visibly ready to penetrate its next victim. Fangs?!

What the fuck? The infected’s eyes were cloudy blue, the whites

reddened. Veronica’s heartbeat soared as one arm rose and she aimed

a gun at the eater’s head. She pulled the trigger as she leapt from

its path. It fell to the ground, dead, as five more eaters

surrounded her on all sides.

She began shooting in all directions,

turning in a circle to down them all. As the fourth one fell, the

final eater jumped on her, catapulting her body to the ground. She

landed with a hard thud next to her satchel, her head hitting the

rigid if grassy ground. Quasi-dizzy and trying to shake it off, the

undead creature kept snapping at her. She strained to keep its face

at arm’s length. Its teeth were gnashing, the fangs giving it an

advantage. The thought of dying this close to Victor was

unacceptable.

Warbling out a battle cry, she pushed the

eater off her body with all her might, one leg raising to kick it

further away from her. Just then another low growl sounded from

behind her, alarming her with its proximity. Her green eyes wide,

she was taken aback when a large dog jumped over her and took the

eater to the ground. The dog barked and snapped as her heart beat

out of her chest. She scurried to her feet, still a bit dizzy, and

saw the dog and the eater rolling around on the ground.

That dog saved her life. She couldn’t let

the poor thing sacrifice its own.

Veronica raised her right arm and trained it

on the infected, trying to get a clean shot. The dog and the eater

were in bitter battle, snapping and growling at each other. She

wanted to kill the eater without injuring the dog. Her dizziness

wasn’t helping matters. The eater threw the dog off it, preparing

to lunge at the animal. Veronica took advantage of the moment. She

fired the shot, her breathing heavy, praying she hit her mark.

The infected human fell to the ground, dead.

She blew out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding in as

the dog seemingly inspected the downed eater before turning to her,

panting and wagging its tail. Her eyes still wide, she called the

dog over to her, noting as he walked he was male. Her breathing

still ragged, she took to her knees and petted him, the emaciated

animal licking her other hand. She checked him for bites and any

puncture wounds, but found none. Only humans could be turned, but

bites could cause an animal to die from infection.

“You’re skinny and hungry, but otherwise

okay, boy,” Veronica told him in a soothing tone. “You’re coming

with me.” Victor had said anything she was still touching when she

injected the serum would travel back in time with her. He better be

right. “Come on, boy!” she instructed, getting up and fixing her

satchel. She quickly walked toward the exact latitude and longitude

coordinates she’d been given. They were so close now. The damned

beeping grew faster and louder in its tempo. “It’s time to get out

of here.”

Veronica heard the growls of eaters in the

distance. Her head at last clearing, this time she could make out

the direction they were coming from. She put the gun from her left

hand inside the holster on her hip and took a grenade from her

waistband. “I am so done fucking around with these things,” she

gritted out. She prepared to pull the pin and throw the detonated

device as soon as she spotted the next hoard. When she espied the

pack in the distance, rapidly heading toward her from the west, she

waited until they were within throwing distance. The dog barking

and her heart pounding, the pack of eaters neared. Throwing the

grenade as fast and far as she could in their direction, she

warbled out another battle cry as it whizzed through the air.

A boom, loud and piercing, sounded. She

leapt for the ground simultaneously, taking the dog with her, and

sprawled out upon it as body parts rained down on them both. Her

breathing ragged, she closed her eyes during the macabre shower.

She knew without looking she’d managed a perfect hit. The low

growls were gone and silence once again reigned supreme. All she

could hear was the beating of her heart and the dog’s panting.

Veronica laid there with the dog for a long

pause, her breathing coming under control. Her adrenaline level

still high, she pulled herself up and told the dog to follow her.

“Let’s go, boy!” she commanded, taking off in a sprint. “There

could be more!”

The dog followed, keeping up with her pace.

The beeps on the wristband drew even closer together, the sounds

extremely rapid, telling her she was where she needed to be. This

had to be the spot. The wristband, thank God, went silent. “Come

for me, Victor,” she managed, falling to her knees to dig through

her satchel. She found the serum and a clean syringe then sat on

her bottom. She slapped herself on the leg to beckon the dog

closer. “Come here, boy,” she said as cheerfully and encouragingly

as she could. “Come here.”

The dog obeyed as if he understood her

words. Maybe he did. Perhaps his former owners had trained him well

before meeting their presumed demise. The animal, once a large mix

of breeds she couldn’t name, was too malnourished to belong to

anyone now. Even if he did belong to a survivor, she reasoned

they’d want her to take the dog with her. Fate must have been on

her side for the dog settled into her lap, happily panting. She

managed a small smile as she got the serum into the syringe.

Another hoard of eaters growled in the far

distance. She hoped the transfer back through time would be fairly

instantaneous. And work.

Placing her weapons in the satchel and

slinging the satchel over one shoulder, she took the syringe,

rolled up one sleeve, and located a plump vein in her right arm.

“Here goes nothing and everything.” She injected the serum, a

burning sensation running down her arm, eliciting a hiss. Grabbing

onto the dog for whatever came next, she clutched him tightly as

her entire world began to spin. Nausea stole over her as the

dizziness reached its apex, forcing her eyes closed and her teeth

to grit. Her last coherent thought was that Victor had better know

what he was doing because this entire experience well and truly

sucked.

*****

Lachlan rode his mount as though the devil

was chasing him, Finn and Ramsay trying their best to keep up. He

rode hard toward the spot where he’d found Victor those months ago,

praying to the saints the time travel had worked. His breathing

growing heavy, his pulse pounding, his dark gaze squinted into the

distance.

She was there. Likely unconscious, but she

was there.

Lachlan flew o’er the clearing, towards his

intended, elation flooding his senses. His steed kicked up dirt as

Lachlan brought him to a sudden halt near to where she lay. The

bone-thin dog she’d brought with her still lay with her arms

wrapped aboot him, the animal as unconscious as she was. Both of

their breathing was normal. “Finn! Ramsay!” he shouted,

dismounting, “Get the dog and her bag. Bring everrathing to my

bedchamber!”

The laird scooped Veronica’s body up into

his arms. Golden curls came tumbling out of their place holder at

the back of her head, cascading down one of his muscled arms. She

was here. She was well and truly here. He was so relieved and

elated he damn near smiled.

“You did it, lass,” he murmured. “You gave

me a fright in the doing, but you did it.”

He handed the sleeping Veronica to Finn then

mounted his horse. Holding out his hands to let his best warrior

know he was ready for her, he expelled a breath of air as she was

placed back into his arms. Lachlan situated her just right on the

horse, her unconscious body falling limply back onto him. Holding

her tightly, Lachlan ordered his steed into a full gallop, the wind

at his back.

‘Twas difficult to believe, yet the woman

had traveled back through time. The proof was in his embrace. She

had persevered and endured unbitten. Veronica was alive and she was

his. This victory was a better feeling than any won battle prize

from his past.

He prayed to the saints she would accept her

fate for he would never give her up. Never.

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