Chapter 14
Fourteen
Mackenzie bent close and checked Gideon’s pulse again, still in disbelief about all that had happened in the last thirty minutes. He’d be very surprised when he woke up.
Please, please, let him wake up.
She should have tried harder to lever him into the bed, but the mattress was on a high bunk, and her strength was nearly gone.
Instead, she’d dragged him into the motor home and rolled him onto the cushion she’d pulled from the bench seat next to the tiny kitchen table.
The agonizing process seemed endless, but she’d persevered, inch by inch, and the effort had warmed her some.
He didn’t really fit, but at least he was off the cold floor.
Once more she prayed, then tucked the blanket tighter around him, willing her fingers to function.
“Please, Gideon,” she entreated. “Open your eyes.” He was still, pale, battered, and bruised. All the pain she could accept for herself—the catastrophic events, the personal consequences of her choices—but if Gideon didn’t survive . . . she wasn’t sure she could withstand it.
She chafed his hands.
He twitched, and her pulse raced. She leaned close. “Gideon?”
One eyelid cracked open, and she held back a sob of relief. Thank you, God. She pulled the blanket up to his chin and held her breath as he fought his way back to consciousness while she rubbed his tremoring shoulders.
“Hey, tough guy.” Her voice broke. “You decided to wake up now that the hard work’s done?”
Gideon blinked and opened the other eye, taking in her, the ceiling. “Where are we?”
At hearing him speak, her joy was almost too much to bear. Somehow she managed to answer. “In the most luxurious 1970s RV you ever did see.”
He blinked some more, his voice a hoarse rasp. “You’re going to need to fill in the gaps for me, Zee.”
“Right before you passed out, I told you I saw a cabin, remember?”
He shook his head and winced. “Nah.”
“Well, I was right about the cabin, but it’s locked up tight and there are storm shutters, so I couldn’t get in. The occupants left their old RV in the side yard unlocked, though. Fortunately, it’s in a bit of a high spot, but I don’t think we’ll stay dry for long. Water’s mid-wheel right now.”
Gideon’s expression was still befuddled. “But . . . how?”
She knew what he was driving at. “How did we get here? I dragged you. You might want to lay off the praying mantis, by the way. It wasn’t easy.
I used that horrible poncho as a kind of a sled.
You aren’t the only one with skills.” Her comic twist covered the fact that it had been a brutal effort, and her body still sang with pain.
But he was alive. Praise God, he was alive.
He tried to sit up, startling her, and immediately clamped a hand to his side and groaned.
“Stay still, would you? I’m no nurse and I can’t guarantee my first aid will stop the bleeding for long if you knock everything loose.” She checked the bandage, which was showing minimal signs of seepage. “The bullet grazed your ribs. Shallow, much better than lodging in your innards.”
“Excellent.”
“Yes.” So excellent. An inch in the other direction . . . She shivered, her blood demanding warmth. “I’m going to try and hot-wire this thing and get the heater running. It’s almost dark. Al and Jerry might have seen us bob up too, so double the urgency.”
He sighed. “If we get out of this mess, we’re going to have to explain our auto theft at some point.”
“I memorized the address on the mailbox. I’ll contact them and make restitution for taking the RV.”
“Your second crime since you’ve hit town,” he teased.
“Just have to hope they’ll be understanding. Kevin says the locals look after each other . . . unless they’re working for Bullseye.”
He nodded. “I’ll help with any restitution. Who knows? We might become the joint owners of this fine rig if they don’t want it back.” The quip didn’t cover the pain in his expression. He was hurting, and they both needed warmth immediately.
She didn’t want to leave him lying on the orange Naugahyde cushion. She wanted to hug him close and tell him how scared she’d been when he collapsed—almost paralyzed, in fact. The adrenaline from moving him was ebbing away, and she felt as if her heart was about to cease pumping altogether.
She walked unsteadily to the console and eased onto the driver’s seat, where the stuffing showed through a crack in the vinyl.
Her hands were tremoring, and she attempted to squeeze her fingers into fists, but they would not obey.
She shoved them under her armpits to try to restore some circulation.
Gideon squirmed. “I’m getting up.”
“No. Just stay there, and I’ll—”
He wriggled and finally sat up.
“Not going to do what you’re told?” she said.
“Astonishing, right? Usually that’s your MO.” He rubbed his eyes and stared at his bare feet. She’d yanked off his boots and wet socks after she deposited him. “Am I looking at orange shag carpet?”
“Yep. And there’s a macramé plant holder behind you, so don’t knock it down, okay?”
“Okay,” he said with a weak laugh. “I love this setup. Shag carpet never should have gone out of style.” A glance told her he was too pale, but the color was coming back to his lips, and he was certainly well enough to ignore her directives.
She managed to toss him a pouch of water from his pack, which she’d flung on the passenger seat next to hers.
“I feel like I’ve had enough water,” he said.
“Hush your mouth. What would your wilderness instructor say? Drink it and rest. I’ve got a camper to hot-wire.”
“I’ll help you.”
“Do you know how to do it?”
“No, but I know enough about cars to figure it out.”
“Leave it to me.” How was she going to fiddle with the ignition? She tried to tuck her hands under her thighs and sit on them, but there was so little of any kind of heat in her body, it was virtually useless. She finally realized Gideon was saying something.
“Visor.”
“What?”
“Check under the sun visor.”
It took a few seconds for her to understand, but she finally reached up to flip down the visor. A set of keys dropped onto her lap. She gaped.
Though she didn’t turn to look at Gideon, she heard the smile.
“Country people are trusting. Easier than cutting wires, right? Work smarter, not harder. That’s an unofficial SERE motto.”
She pawed the key, and it required four attempts before she got it into the slot. “Start, you awesome camper,” she whispered. One attempt, and on the second, the engine coughed to life.
“Atta girl,” Gideon crowed. “You got it, Zee.”
“And there’s a half tank of gas.” She hardly dared believe her eyes. She immediately wrestled the unwieldy camper into drive and rolled out of the yard.
“No—”
“Headlights, I know,” she said through chattering teeth.
“Sorry, backseat driving.” He startled her by staggering close, sliding the packs off, and collapsing in the passenger seat with a moan.
“You should be lying down.”
“I know, but I need to sit up here to avoid being that nagging backseat driver.”
She didn’t like the gravel in his voice, or his slight breathlessness, as if it hurt too much to fill his lungs properly. But she knew there was nothing short of physical force that would compel him to return to the makeshift cot, and she had no strength to spare.
“Make yourself useful then. What’s the best way to get to a passable road?”
He pointed. “Follow the drive and we’ll recalculate when we get to a better line of sight.”
Sticking to the roads would make them easier to spot, but there wasn’t any choice except to keep the unwieldy old vehicle on paved surfaces.
Though she desperately wanted to turn on the heater, neither of them could stand to have cold air blown on them. “In five minutes, we blast it,” she said through gritted teeth.
“Four and a half.”
The graveled path was the tiniest bit luminous as it wound through the trees, as if it caught and held on to the sickly rays of remaining daylight that managed to penetrate. It was near sunset, so that advantage would go away quickly. At least they’d caught a stoppage in the rain.
But that meant Al and Jerry had too. And they were in an ATV, faster and more agile than an aged RV. Take it up a notch, Mackenzie. She tried, but the waterlogged road and gloom made her keep to a crawl.
Gideon reached forward and cranked the heat lever.
“I think that was only four minutes,” she said.
“Close enough.”
The heater blew the faintest puff of lukewarm air until she’d rolled another quarter mile.
Then it blasted out the most glorious warmth she’d ever experienced.
The forceful stream of heat warmed her face.
A measure of circulation returned to her hands with a mingling of pain and pleasure.
Her rigid cheeks melted into pliable flesh again, burning and tingling.
“Should I turn the heater down?” Gideon said.
“Don’t even think about it.”
He laughed. “I was hoping you’d say that. Whoa.” He suddenly clutched the dash.
She slammed on the brakes.
Part of the road in front of them had disappeared into a water-filled sinkhole. The rippling surface made it impossible to judge the depth. Traversing it was out of the question.
“Do I have room to go around?”
He cranked down the window, letting in a cold blast of air as he craned a look out. “Yes, but we’re talking inches of clearance, no more.”
Would the rest of the road disintegrate under the weight of the vehicle and swallow them? Neither one of them wanted to voice the question.
Jaw clenched, she guided them around in a space so tight the side scraped the bark of the overhanging trees. It was an excruciatingly slow process, but inch by precarious inch they squeezed past the obstacle.
Gideon blew out a breath. “Good driving. They work on that in cop school?”
“My brother taught me.”
“I remember. For all his wildness, he was an extremely cautious driver, most of the time.” Gideon went quiet. “I offered to help with your lessons, but he declined every time. He said, ‘She’s my responsibility.’”