Page 10 of Deep Within Me
Come on,her mind pleaded.Hurry up.
Even if there was no one nearby at the moment, she sensed Carreon’s lieutenants moving closer, prepared to pounce. They’d take Zeke prisoner.
Worse, they’d send for Roberto.
At thirty, he was a man to fear, though the casual observer would never suspect that by his demeanor. Exceedingly handsome, Roberto had a calm, almost-gentle manner despitehis powerful body sculpted by exercise. Even with his muscular frame, there were no bulging biceps for him like Arnold Schwarzenegger or the Hulk. In a suit, he looked like a rising young star from Wall Street. A broker. Or perhaps an attorney.
The little finger on his left hand contradicted that notion. It was the only part of him that was physically flawed, the portion above the joint missing. Rumor had it Roberto had chopped it off with garden shears when he was only sixteen, wanting to prove to Carreon’s father that he could take anything. He wasn’t afraid of pain or death.
Torture was Roberto’s specialty. He had no qualms about using his skill on a woman or even a child. Making Zeke scream in agony wouldn’t bother him a bit. He’d force Zeke to reveal what the future held so Carreon could use the knowledge for his own purposes. Annihilating Zeke’s people, taking their land, enriching himself even further.
“I saw you bleeding, killed in the crossfire,”Zeke had said.“Your father too. Neither of you able to save the other. My vision showed Carreon’s men taking me prisoner, torturing me so I’d tell them the future. Do you want that?”
She wanted out of here. Now. She sank her teeth into her bottom lip, tasting blood.
“He’s going to be fine,” her father said and touched her shoulder.
Just as he had when she’d been so focused on her memory of healing his ankle, reliving that moment repeatedly. Why? It had been a minor injury, certainly nothing like bullets near a man’s heart or in his gut. Yet her concentration on that one event had been so acute, Liz hadn’t responded to Zeke shouting her name. She’d heard his worry but hadn’t said anything.
Because she hadn’t wanted to or couldn’t?
Apprehension kept Liz from asking. She rested her hand on her father’s. “I can’t lose him, Papa.”
“You won’t.”
Liz squeezed his fingers, wanting to feel relieved, unable to do so. As long as Carreon lived, there would always be danger.
To the right, something caught her attention. Liz stiffened, expecting the worst.
It was only dirt spiraling in place, driven by the wind. A moment passed before she remembered to breathe. The dust devil hit and shook the Jeep. Its spray of pebbles and sand sounded like muted gunfire striking the vehicle.
Liz gripped the dash and turned back to Zeke. What was taking so long?
He leaned toward the passenger seat, fooling with something on it. She tried to recall anything being there, but—
Her thoughts paused at Zeke dousing the dashboard’s light. On his run back to their vehicle, he concentrated on the area surrounding them. His expression said they were still alone. For the moment.
Liz leaned over as he opened the door. “Did everything go all right?”
“Yeah.” He tossed the other vehicle’s keys next to his two-way radio. “All the data’s gone.” Once he’d secured his assault rifle, Zeke pulled away.
Only thirteen miles separated this location from his stronghold. Liz prayed they’d make it this time. She kept scouring the landscape, waiting for something awful to happen.
“We’ll be there in a few minutes,” Zeke said.
Liz nodded absently. They’d just reached the vehicle with Carreon’s lieutenants inside. Several animals, possibly coyotes or maybe wild dogs, were crouched a distance away. Their eyes glittered in the available light. No doubt, they were waiting for the Jeep to pass so they could investigate the carnage undisturbed.
Without meaning to, Liz moaned.
“I had to do it,” Zeke said.
Beneath his apathetic tone, she heard soul-deep sorrow and guilt. He’d never wanted any of this. He’d told her how he hated his gift…how he wished only to live his life in peace. Something Carreon and his kind wouldn’t allow.
“I know.” She rested her hand on his forearm. “I don’t blame you. Please don’t blame yourself.”
He pulled in a deep breath that seemed to sap his strength then sighed it out. “I don’t.”
Liar. He was a good man, generous and kind, risking his life repeatedly to protect those he loved. If he’d been born into different circumstances, he may have been a star athlete, his powerful build dominating the football field. Or he might have gone into law enforcement, pursuing his sense of justice that was as much a part of him as his coppery skin and dark eyes.