Captive (20 page)
“You wouldn’t have what? Taken me with you?”
He didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. She could see in his eyes he thought bringing her along had been a huge mistake.
She set the prenatal EpiPen on the counter. “It’s not like they weren’t going to notice us missing at some point. Besides, just because they’re looking for me doesn’t mean they’re looking in the right place. The first thing they’ll search is the Yard. That could take hours.”
So get over yourself,
she thought, but didn’t say for fear he’d draw his weapon and slay her now. Or worse, trade her for the .38 special.
“No. The first thing they’ll do is LoJack your shock collar. When it doesn’t respond, they’ll know something’s up. Hell, they could be tracking us right now. He swore again and removed his hand from the hilt.
A silence broke between them as he paced the small bathroom, doing a mighty fine impression of a caged lion. He was probably scheming a way to ditch her. She would have left the room, but his very large, very angry body blocked the door and she didn’t dare squeeze past him.
Instead, she tried looking busy rearranging the hanging clothes. At least in this oven of a room, they were sure to dry before the louvers opened.
Max picked up her gladiator boot from the counter and studied it. “You ever snowshoe?” he asked in a normal conversational tone.
“What?”
He leaned his face toward her and spoke slowly, as if it was the English she didn’t understand and not his one-eighty attitude change. The beast within him had evidently calmed, and the man returned. “Have you ever snowshoed?”
“Yes.” What the heck did his brain do, channel-surf his moods? A minute ago he was so pissed he could have pummeled her. Now, he was acting like her buddy. Either the guy was bipolar or he had already figured out how to ditch her.
She studied him. Whatever his plan, she’d be ready for it.
Turning the boot on its side, Max slid open an inconspicuous tab on the instep revealing two tiny levers beneath. She hadn’t noticed the tab before—probably because her boots were buried in smelly trash the whole time she wore them. Using his finger and thumb, he squeezed the levers together.
Ten serrated spikes sprung from the thick sole. Addy jerked back, banging her hip into the counter.
“You okay?”
“Lost my balance,” she lied.
Nice prowess, Dawson. Idiot.
She swallowed. “Please tell me those are used for traction on ice.”
“That’s one use for them.”
Her stomach turned. Maybe his mood hadn’t changed after all. Maybe he was going to slash her apart with the boot. Then again, wouldn’t it have been easier to run her through with the sword?
“To disengage the crampons, flip the levers the other way. Like this. Here, practice.” Max thrust the disengaged boot in her hands. He picked up the sewing kit.
The switches were easy enough to manipulate. “These are so cool. Who designed this gadget? Q Hyborean? Where’s the button for the rocket boosters?”
“Don’t I wish.” Max pushed the needle and thread into the strap of his torn backpack.
Maybe she was wrong about him. He wouldn’t have shown her how to use the boots if he were going to ditch her. Right? Or was he more cunning than she realized? Maybe he wanted to lull her into a false sense of security.
Hmm, whatever ideas were rattling inside his head, she knew one thing for certain: when the louvers opened, Max would not be sneaking through them alone.
M
ax and Addy crouched by the open louvers watching Lucky scout his frozen backyard, his body a dark contrast to the snow-blurred air. The constant wind launched the powdery top layer skyward, making it appear as though a blizzard had started from the ground and stormed upward.
With any luck, the whipping snow and their white and light gray thermal suits would be enough to camouflage their escape. Of course, the poor visibility meant a greater chance of getting lost. Addy pulled her goggles over her eyes.
Wind whipped through the slats. Steam hissed through the pipes. Garbage vessels clanked behind them. But none of these sounds drowned out the jackhammering of her heart.
“On your mark,” Max whispered.
Every motor neuron was positioned to fire at their lookout’s signal.
“…set...”
Lucky waved them outside.
Go.
Squeezing through the slats, they crawled to the outside and raced through calf-deep snow. As he passed Lucky, Max thrust the three bullets into the older man’s hand.
“Good luck,” he called after them.
Icy nettles stung her cheeks, and arctic air chilled her lungs until adrenaline flooded her veins and she felt no more.
Sprinting on Max’s heels, she quieted her breathing—inhale...stride, stride, stride...exhale...stride, stride, stride—and listened. Not for the breaths or footfalls of other competitors or even the voice of her coach in the crowd. This time she listened for the sound of a Hyborean vehicle. She listened for the telepathic “voice” of anger or surprise indicating they've been spotted. She listened for the hounds she imagined were chasing them. And for the crack of a rifle.
She heard nothing. She sensed nothing. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw nothing.
Lucky and the incinerator plant had been swallowed by the blizzard. With each step, Hyborean civilization fell behind, and her heart grew lighter and her feet faster.
God, it felt great to be outside. Really outside. In the elements. Not some artificial climate-controlled Yard. The freedom of it overwhelmed her, and she could barely contain her urge to whoop with joy. She could race across this flat, frozen planet forever. But sprinting had quickly given way to running. Running gave way to jogging. Jogging gave way to walking. And after five hours, her quads screamed to stop.
Max seemed quite comfortable, though. He had settled into a comfortable hiking pace and hadn’t spoken since they left the incinerator building. Not that she’d be able to hear him with the wind howling in her ears. Still, she wondered if he realized she was even behind him. He never said a word. Heck, he never even looked back. He focused his eyes ahead, as if he could actually see something through the whiteout.
How did he know where to go? Addy possessed a good sense of direction and knew they hadn’t backtracked.
“Max,” she shouted between breaths.
He didn’t look back. “What?”
“Do you know where we’re going?”
“Yes.”
“How can you be so sure? Everything looks the same to me.”
“Just keep the peak of the Ice Mountains southeast of you.”
“What mountains?”
“There. In the distance.”
She narrowed her eyes but saw nothing except snow and loose strands of hair whipping across her goggles. “I don’t see anything.”
“Look at the horizon. See how it’s gray compared to the ground and sky? That’s the Ice Mountains.”
When the wind died down again, she concentrated on the horizon. Were there mountains there? Perhaps in all the time Max lived as gladiator, he had trained his eyes to see something she couldn’t. Like when she had first looked at those hidden 3-D pictures in the mall and didn’t see anything. After she had stared long enough, her eyes had crossed and—boom—the image had finally appeared.
In this case, staring didn’t help. She blinked before her eyeballs froze. “I see gray haze. Are you sure it’s a mountain?”
“You leave your glasses on Earth?”
“My vision is twenty-twenty.”
Max stopped and she nearly slammed into his shoulder. He studied her. “You really can’t see the Ice Mountains?”
She shook her head, grateful to rest her legs.
“Huh,” he said thoughtfully before he shrugged and started hiking again.
Her legs cramped. Damn. She shouldn’t have stopped. She couldn’t regain the pace she had kept up before, and now Max started to pull ahead. There was no way she’d let him leave her behind in this frozen wilderness. This was one race she could not lose. Pumping her arms until her legs caught the faster rhythm, she jogged to catch up and drafted off his shoulder again.
* * *
Who would have thought the woman would have kept pace with him? When he had sprinted out of the louvers at top speed, he figured he’d lose her quickly through the snow and ice. She’d be too slow, too out of breath, too scared, and turn back to the incinerator plant where he had no doubt she could handle herself with Lucky. There she’d be safe...as long as her master didn’t come looking for her.
If he hadn’t known she was an athlete from the first time he’d caressed her firm, muscular body, he should have when those shapely legs powered her climb in HuBReC’s ductwork. And when she clung to him in the garbage truck with that death grip, he should have known her strength wouldn’t fatigue easily.
Who the hell was he kidding? He knew. In fact, he had counted on it.
It wasn’t merely that she was an athlete, though. Athletic ability alone wouldn’t deliver anyone to freedom. The perils of this journey required courage and determination. It required a fighter.
Whether due to stupidity or guts, she
had
stood her ground with both him and Regan. Remembering the way her body pushed and writhed under him in the breeding box both pleased and angered him. His chest tightened as “pleased” and “angered” engaged his heartstrings in a tug-of-war.
She had wanted him. He’d been with enough females to know when their bodies answered his. But she wouldn’t give in. Not even under the influence of the aphrodisiac fire. She knew she wasn’t an animal and wouldn’t allow herself to be treated like one. Weak as she was against him physically, she had stood strong on her principles. He could have overpowered her and taken her, yet his brute strength or the fear he detected in her eyes didn’t shake her standpoint.
She definitely had courage.
Once upon a time, he did, too. But that was a lifetime ago. Hell, more like eight lifetimes ago.
He stopped his thoughts from bringing back memories of his old life. No point in thinking about it. He wasn’t a man anymore. He was a beast. That truth tasted bitter in his mouth. He turned his head and spit.
Still, walking five hours through arctic winds was no easy task. She should have fatigued a long time ago. He had waited for her pleas for a break, but she never said a word. When she would fall back, he’d hear her breathing change and she’d catch up and use him to block the wind.
The woman had grit.
The rhythm of her footfalls changed again. Was she limping? She was definitely sucking in air too fast. He slowed. When she didn’t catch up this time, he stopped. “What happened?”
“Nothing. I’m fine.”
Liar.
By her hunched shoulders and her deliberate long, deep breaths of air, he knew she had cramped up. His gaze searched the desolate terrain. “We’ll take ten minutes.”
“I’ll hike my ten.” She passed him, her hand stroking her abdomen.
One swift tug of his heartstring and the war had ended. His heart had sided with “pleased.”
A smile cracked his chapped lips. The woman was a fighter.
Too bad he’d have to leave her at the ice caves.
L
ittle white pinholes pierced the darkening sky. With the appearance of each star, temperatures plummeted as though what little warmth this planet held drained through a sieve in the heavens.
Hopefully, they would finish digging their shelter before the heat in her thermal gear surrendered to the bitter night. With gladimort and Flesheater in hand, Max and she hacked away the surface hoarfrost and packed snow.
“How did you come to Hyborea?” she asked to break up the monotonous sound of arctic wind and chopping.
Max scooped the loose snow and ice from the shelter.
“Were you taken from California, too?The patch on your backpack may be worn, but I’d swear it looks like Donald Duck.”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
By his tone, she must have hit a sore spot. “Why not?”
“That life’s gone.”
“How can it be gone? That life helped mold you into the person you are. It will always be with you.”
He cocked his head toward her. Behind his goggles, his eyes appeared cold and hard. “Take my advice. Forget your family. Forget your life. Forget Earth. It will do nothing but torment you.” He went back to work scraping a wall with his sword.
How could she ever forget the people who helped her become the person she was today? Even her messed-up relationship with her mother had made Addy a strong and independent woman. Heck, if they’d had a great relationship, she probably wouldn’t have had the fortitude to escape HuBReC. “Is that what you did?”
“I’ve even stopped dreaming about it.”
His flat, emotionless voice hit her in the heart. Her throat thickened as if an onset of tears would soon let loose. A quick throat clearing stopped the sensation. “What a sad and sorry thing to say. Forgetting where you come from is like letting a part of you die.”
“I’m used to dying.”
“Well your Earth life isn’t completely dead in you.”
“Yes, it is.”
“Nuh-uh. I distinctly remember you singing a Guns N’ Roses song in the breeding box. Albeit, you whistled the beginning, skipped the whole song and went right to the end, but still, it proves you haven’t let go of home altogether.”
“That was strategy.” He removed the chunks of ice.
“Right. You were trying to have patience with me.”
“No. I was trying to act like I did in college so you’d have sex with me.”
She saw a flash of dark sky when her eyes rolled. “Max, the big college stud.”
He jerked away from her. “I wasn’t a stud until HuBReC.”
A weight fell on her heart. Here she was trying to breath some life back inside him. But instead of helping him find good memories to grasp hold of, she had to remind him of being an animal. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that. I just wanted to know—”
“Hell, woman, I don’t want to discuss it.”
“I have a name.” Her temper met his by throwing two handfuls of snow in his face. “And it’s not Hell Woman.”
With the tips of his fingers, Max raked the snow from his goggles. He offered no apology. He merely finished sweeping out the rest of the snow debris from the shelter. “It’s done.” He gathered up his sword, knife, and backpack.
