Behind the Lies (A Montgomery Justice Novel) (21 page)

Could nothing be easy?

The rope hung about five feet away. Zach eased to the ledge and reached out his hand. Just a couple of feet too far.

He studied the suspect rock face. Too many opportunities for the surface to crumble away. He glanced up at the tree, grabbed a thin limb, and twisted and tugged until the green wood gave way. After several thrusts, the leaves caught the line and Zach slowly pulled it toward him.

He secured the tubular rappelling device and looked up. He could barely see the side of the mountain. Going by memory, Zach planted his foot against the side and began the climb. His movements careful, he eased up to only a few feet from the top. He squinted, but couldn’t make out his target, consisting of a small island of hard rock surrounded by crumbling sandstone and dirt. Saying a quick prayer, Zach carefully placed his boot.

Rocks poured down like waterfall.

He tightened his grip and shifted his feet to the right.

Wrong choice.

The wall disintegrated beneath his feet.

Zach shoved away from the edge.

Time slowed down.

He couldn’t stop the fall.

J
ENNA CRADLED
S
AM
in her arms and stared, unblinking, at the shadowed cliff.

The line leading to the edge suddenly went taut.

She jumped up, her heart racing, the staccato beats thrumming against her chest.

“What’s the matter, Mommy? Where’s the Dark Avenger?”

“I don’t know, baby. Stay there, all right?” Jenna dug into the backpack Zach had thrown next to the pine and pulled out a flashlight. Sweeping the beam across the area, she walked to the line still anchored to the tree. She gave it a small tug. No slack, just scarily taut. “Zach,” she shouted.

“Stay back,” his voice filtered from the crevice. “I’ll be…right up.”

She recognized the strain in his voice. Something wasn’t right. The flashlight caught the line shifting, scraping back and forth against the rock. A rope would have frayed, but Zach’s equipment was clearly high-tech.

Sam hobbled next to her and whimpered. “Where is he?”

She hesitated. “He’s climbing.”

“It’s a long way down.”

An arm reached up and over the rock. Red spots splattered his dusty sleeve. A grunt sounded. The other arm flung up.
Muscles strained. Zach heaved himself onto the granite, his chest and waist lying on the stone. He took in a deep breath. A two-inch cut slashed at his temple. Blood trickled down his check.

She started toward him. He lifted his head. “No! Stay away!”

Jenna skidded to a halt, every instinct urging her to go to him, to help him, but she fought the impulse. Sometimes brains had to overcome the heart. Now was one of those times.

Sam gripped her hand tight, sniffling.

Rolling to his side with most of his weight resting on his right arm, Zach crept from the cliff’s edge. He looked like he’d been to war with the mountain. She shone the light on the ground to show him the way, trying to keep it out of his eyes. Finally he reached the large boulder. He stopped and collapsed onto his back, flinging his right hand over his eyes.

Jenna let go of Sam, lunged to Zach, and knelt at his side. “You’re hurt. Let me see,” she said softly, reaching into Zach’s pack for the first aid kit.

Sam handed her the case.

“How you doing, buddy?” Zach asked, his breathing slowing.

Her son hid his face into Jenna’s jacket. She propped the flashlight between two rocks so she could see what she was doing and dabbed at his cut with a bandage. “A twisted ankle and a new appreciation for the mountains.” She couldn’t stop the intense gratitude from rising into her throat. She wanted to throw herself into his arms and thank him, but there were no words, nothing she could ever do to repay him. “You saved his life. How can I even—?”

“Don’t.” Zach clasped the hand tending to him. “Anyone would have done the same.”

“But not everyone could have.” She turned his palms over, wincing at the scrapes and scratches on his hands. “You should see a doctor.”

Zach sat up. “It’s nearly dark. We have to find shelter. No way we’re walking at night. Even with my imager.”

He rose, groaning as he stood. In the eerie reflection of the flashlight, his left arm hung oddly at his side.

She reached out to him. “What have you done?”

“Banged myself up a bit.”

She touched him. He winced and shut his eyes. His knees gave way and he collapsed onto the ground. “Damn.”

“Dark Avenger,” Sam cried out.

“Stay back, baby. Why don’t you hold the flashlight for me?” Anything to distract him.

Sam nodded and clutched the plastic yellow tube in his hands, shining the beam on Zach.

“Not in his eyes.”

Quickly Sam lowered the beam.

“You dislocated your shoulder.” She should’ve seen it immediately. When she was about ten, one of the kids on her block had run to her house crying, his arm dangling at his side just like Zach’s. Her dad had taken him to the hospital, then slugged the boy’s father.

“We have to get you to the clinic in Hidden Springs,” Jenna said, packing up the first aid kit.

“That’s partly how we ended up on the side of this mountain,” Zach muttered, sucking in a few deep breaths.

He didn’t have to add if they hadn’t been delayed, she and Sam would already be on the road to their new life, away from Zach.

“Just give me a second,” he breathed. He rolled over onto his back. “I need you,” he said softly, “to help me set the shoulder back into place.”

Jenna swallowed. He had to have heard the gulp, but he didn’t give her away.

“You’re not going to run into a tree or something to shove your shoulder back into place?” she asked.

He quirked a grin. “Nah. That’s in the movies. They aren’t real, honey.”

“The last two days feel like fiction.”

“Ever hear that truth is stranger? Well, they were right.” He let out a slow stream of air. “Raise my arm up to ninety degrees.”

The beam of light dropped.

“Sam, keep the flashlight pointed this way, baby.”

“OK, Mommy.”

The illumination spread across Zach’s torso, lighting his face. Jenna clutched his warm hand in hers and slowly moved him into position.

“Good. Now, turn my arm so my palm is facing toward my head.”

She watched every facial expression as she turned the limb, but couldn’t read a thing. He set his jaw and looked straight ahead, completely still.

He blinked once and bent his knee. “Now, I want you to put your foot where my collarbone is.”

She shook her head. “I could hurt you.”

“Right now it hurts. I need you to do this for me. Take hold of my hand and pull.”

“Zach—”

“Brace yourself. Be firm, but do it slow and easy. You’ll feel my shoulder slip back into place.”

She followed his instructions. She couldn’t help but wince when she practically stood on the bone. “Are you sure?”

“Do it,” he ordered through gritted teeth.

She grabbed his arm. Slowly, she pulled. His arm moved. Nothing shifted. She eased her grip.

“More,” he ground out. “Again.”

She closed her eyes and heaved harder. Suddenly, the bone shifted against her.

“That’s it. You did it.”

His eyes cleared a bit.

“Position my arm as if I were wearing a sling,” he said.

She removed her foot. With the greatest care she knelt next to him and placed his hand against his belly. He didn’t move it. She let her hands linger on his arm and raised her gaze to his, gnawing her lip with worry.

He nodded with approval. “Not bad for the first time.”

Her entire body sagged with relief. She bowed her head and sank closer. He caressed the back of her neck with his left hand. “Thank you,” he whispered.

“Are you all right, Dark Avenger?” Sam said. “I didn’t think you could get hurt.”

“Everyone can get hurt, Sam. How’s your foot?”

“Mommy told me I can’t run around the mountains anymore ’cause I twisted my ankle.”

“Your mommy is a very smart lady.” Zach shifted and came to a sitting position. “Jenna, grab a long bandage out of the first aid kit. We need to immobilize my arm.”

Within moments, he’d talked her through bandaging. He tested the ties. “Something else you’re a natural at,” he said. Zach rose and reached for the backpack.

“You might be indestructible in the movies, but this is real life, Dark Avenger. No way are you carrying anything heavier than Sam’s flashlight after I nearly pulled your arm off.” She shoved his hand away. “I’m carrying this.”

He opened his mouth to argue, and she glared at him, giving him her best
I’m serious
look. It worked with Sam. Zach’s brow arched. Jenna simply ignored him, heaving the pack with both arms. She planted her feet and gripped the straps tight. “Which way?”

“Fine,” he said. “Can I have the flashlight, buddy?”

Sam handed it over.

“At least someone around here does what I tell them,” Zach groused. “There’s a cave a few hundred yards away. I’ve used it as shelter during a summer rainstorm.”

Zach led the way, and by the time they reached the dark hole in the side of the mountain, the moon had risen enough to light their path a bit. “Get behind that boulder,” he said, and stood to the side of the entrance.

Jenna pressed Sam to her side, peering into the inky blackness. Zach tossed a rock into the opening. It clattered inside and rolled to a stop. He repeated the action three times before motioning them out.

“No one’s home,” he said. “I’ll go first.”

He ducked his head and stepped through into the cave. The flashlight swept around. “It’s clear. Bring Sam in.”

Jenna helped her son through the darkened entrance. They picked their way into an eerie combination of dampened walls and a strangely glittering floor as Zach’s beam of light sliced through the shadows.

“Look, the ground sparkles, Mommy.”

“It’s called granite,” Zach said. “There are crystals in the rocks.”

Sam crouched down and ran his fingers along the ground. “How did they get there?”

Zach stared at her son as if he were a strange alien, then let out a laugh. “I don’t have a clue, buddy. Maybe you’ll be a geologist when you grow up and teach me.”

Sam scraped at the sparkling floor and Jenna set the pack down. She rubbed her hands together. “It’s getting chilly.”

“You wait with Sam. I’ll get firewood.”

“With one arm?” Jenna said.

“Sam needs you,” Zach said quietly. “It’s been a rough afternoon.”

Jenna searched his eyes, recognizing the stubbornness. Reluctantly, she nodded.

“You’ll come back, right?” Sam asked.

Zach knelt in front of her son.

“I promise, Sam. I won’t let you down.”

Each thud of Farzam’s feet on the dusty road pounded another nail of hate into the coffin of his life. He held a bag in his hand, all that was left of his menial job.

Khalid and his terrorist contacts worked fast.

Farzam stood outside the hovel he called home. The wretched place would be too expensive now. He didn’t know how he would tell his wife how far they’d truly fallen. He’d be lucky if she didn’t leave him and beg her parents to take her back.

He pushed open the door.

His wife sat on the dilapidated couch and stared up at him, her eyes wide with fear. She blinked.

Farzam shoved away the panic that squeezed his lungs. He whirled around. A man stepped back, hands up in a peaceful gesture. “I am here to help.”

His accent was unusual. As if he knew numerous languages but owned none of them. With a glance up and down the man’s shabby clothing, Farzam let out a snort. “What can you possibly do? You’re worse off than I am.”

“Looks can be deceiving.” He took a step toward Farzam. “You lost your position today.”

His wife gasped, and Farzam glared at the man. “This is my business. Not yours.”

A woman wearing a full
chadri
stepped from behind the man, her movement confident. The netting across her eyes hid their color from Farzam, but he could tell from her demeanor she was foreign.

“You’ve been asking about Zane Morgan,” the woman said, her voice soft, but her accent clearly American. “Why?”

Farzam rubbed his tired eyes. He’d gotten nowhere in his search, and without any income, he wouldn’t be able to buy information, let alone have enough to survive. His son was lost. His shoulders slumped under the burden. “If you’re going to kill me, don’t bother. We’ll starve to death in a matter of weeks and save you the trouble.”

The woman stood quiet and still, then tilted her head toward the door. Without hesitation, the man Farzam assumed to be in charge obeyed the silent order and left. Odd.

“Your son has been taken. Your job has been taken. Your sister is dead. Your life is over,” she said.

“Get out,” Farzam ordered. No way would he let a
woman
steal what little remained of his dignity.

“Zane Morgan caused your downfall,” she said. “His death could rebuild your life, correct?”

Farzam paused. “Perhaps. If I could start again somewhere Khalid has no reach.”

“That can be arranged.”