A Moment in Time (55 page)

      
"Where are we going?"

      
Luke looked at her and shook his head. "Away. Who gives a shit?"

      
She gave him a look of disbelief. "I didn't know p–"

      
"Enough talk."
 
He'd wasted too much precious time already, though every indication told him there was no reason to hurry. None at all. "Weird."

      
"What's weird?"

      
"Nothing."
 
He took her hand and started downhill, though there wasn't even a trail to follow. All he could do was hope he'd find a parking lot soon with a Chevy to match the priest's keys.

      
The altitude stole his breath, and sweat did nothing to ease the sting of his skin, but he kept walking. Somehow, miraculously, the woman kept up with him, though he knew she must be even worse off than him. She'd lost a lot of blood.

      
"How much farther?" she asked at the base of the hill.

      
Luke shot her a side glance and noticed her flushed face and rapid breathing. He probably looked even worse, especially with his head shaved and his skin fried. "You okay?"
 

      
She nodded. "But how much farther to the car?"

      
"How the hell should I know?" Why hadn't he left her behind? She would've been all right.

      
"You don't know where you parked your car?"

      
"
My
car?" He chuckled in disbelief. "Lady, I've never owned a car."

      
Furrowing her brow, she looked beyond him. "Maybe we should go up that hill and have a look."

      
That made sense. If he could find a highway to follow... Of course, he'd have to be more careful about staying hidden once they reached civilization.

      
Without comment, he started up the hill, dragging her by the hand. By the time they reached the summit, they were both gasping for breath and they collapsed at the base of a tall pine.
      
After a few minutes, Luke managed to stand, using the tree for assistance. When he looked down, he saw the doctor holding her hand out toward him in a silent plea for help.

      
"God, I'm such a fool," he muttered in disgust, even as he pulled her to her feet.

      
The clouds were thicker now, covering the tops of the higher peaks in the distance. He shivered as the air cooled his skin.

      
"Over there."

      
Luke looked where the woman still pointed, squinting to see. "What?"

      
"I saw some buildings, but the clouds moved again."

      
Shaking his head, Luke slowly surveyed their surroundings. He released her hand and walked around the tree, looking as far as possible in every direction. Trees, mountains, and one stream. No roads, cars, or buildings.

      
"Where the hell are we?"

      
"There, I told you so," she said, drawing Luke's attention back to where she'd pointed earlier. "See?"

      
The clouds at this altitude were more like fog, shrouding mountains and trees in white. He looked where she continued to point, waiting as the clouds grew more dense, then gradually parted.

      
"See?" she repeated. "Over there."

      
"Yeah."
 
Several buildings were clustered on the side of a mountain.
 

      
"It must be a town," she said.

      
Luke nodded, then looked back from where they'd come. There was no evidence that a prison had ever existed. None at all. "I don't get this."
 
He remembered being escorted into a brand new facility, with every possible convenience. Where the hell was it now?

      
Government buildings didn't just vanish. There should be tons of rescue equipment up here now, digging for survivors from the bombed building.

      
What building?

      
"Come on, let's go," she said, tugging on his sleeve.

      
The woman didn't seem the least bit concerned about their peculiar situation. "All right."
 
So much for the priest's car, wherever it was.

      
After they'd walked for what seemed like miles, she stopped and looked at him. "You look tired, Father, and my feet are killing me."

      
Father
? Luke froze in mid-step to stare at her. "What'd you call me?"

      
"Father. You are a priest, aren't you?" The look on her face screamed sincerity. "Should I call you something else?"

      
"Uh..."
 
Luke remembered the priest's Bible in the pouch at his waist. The robe. The crucifix.
Go with God
. "Father is fine."
 
He swallowed hard. If she didn't remember who he was, then...

      
She didn't know he was a condemned man. Luke's heart slammed into his bruised ribs and he drew a deep breath. "We'll stop and rest here."

      
She sat cross-legged on the ground, only a few feet away. The expression on her face was one of complete innocence. Bewilderment. Forgetfulness?

      
Thank God.

      
Still, just because she didn't know who he was didn't mean others wouldn't. He had to put some distance between himself and the law. Maybe he'd go to Central America.

      
"Ready?" he asked, suddenly eager to start his new life. Her memory lapse was a gift. Another one.

      
They both stood and looked toward the town. It didn't seem nearly as far now, and the clouds had thinned somewhat, enabling Luke to make out the definite shapes of a few buildings. None of them looked big enough to be a hospital, though.

      
Once he knew she was safe and being cared for, he could walk away with a clear conscience. At last.

      
"Father, before we go..."

      
"What is it?" Luke tried to hide his impatience, reminding himself that she thought he was a real priest. With any luck, she wouldn't remember his true identity until he was hundreds of miles from here.

      
"Could you answer one question for me?"

      
"I'll try."
 
Did she remember watching them strap him into that horrible chair? Did she remember his screams of agony? He closed his eyes and swallowed hard. Her tug on his sleeve made him open his eyes to meet her gaze.
 

      
Her eyes were large pools of blue, their intensity rivaled only by the purpling at the side of her head. "What is it?" he asked. They needed to keep walking. "Your question, I mean."

      
"Father," she said quietly, "who am I?"

Excerpt from

Mulligan Stew

The Mulligans
: Book One

by

Deb Stover

Prologue

Perched high atop a craggy cliff, the black castle loomed over the rocks and shore below with an imperious air. It seemed almost human, some claimed, though most God-fearing souls believed whatever force troubled those halls descended not from this earth, but from the shadows of darkness. Indeed, within the boundaries of cold, forbidding stone, something sinister surely lurked.

Something evil.

Along the passageways and battlements of the forsaken tower, in the dank shadows of haze-veiled belfries, timeless injustice, tragedy, and passion clung like mist to the forsaken walls. Fog, turned blood red by the distant sun, shrouded the parapet, issuing a silent warning to any who dared approach. The massive doors remained closed, and no hint of welcoming light shone from the leaded windows.

A lone figure stood in the long shadow cast by the tower as the sun sank into the sea beyond. The breeze whipped his shaggy dark hair about his shoulders, revealing a face square of jaw and nearly as complex as the decaying castle. He cocked his head at an angle, his expression so intent it seemed he strained to hear the voices of the past.

As if part of the land itself, a magnificent black horse stepped up to his side and nuzzled his shoulder. The man's face softened as he stroked the exquisite animal and a ghost of a smile tugged at his full lips.

With a longing glance at the castle, he gave an emphatic nod. In one fluid movement, he swung himself onto the beast's bare back and urged it into a reckless gallop.

Like the wind, man and horse vanished into the ripening shadows of dusk, leaving
Caisleán Dubh
alone again with its secrets.

For now.

Chapter 1