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Authors: Iris Johansen

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BOOK: And Then You Die
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“Where are you going?”

“We didn't finish searching. There might be someone else.”

“There're only three more blocks. The percentages are against it.”

“Babies don't know about percentages. Maybe that's why this one lived.”

Emily smiled. “Not logical. Be sure you're back in forty minutes. I want to get Josie out of here.”

“Josie?”

“We have to call her something besides ‘that one.'” She began to strip off her shirt.

Bess walked out the door and braced herself. She was probably going to find nothing but more horror.

Unless there was another Josie.

So don't think about it. Just do it.

She clenched her hands into fists and started down the street.

 

No more Josies.

Just death. And the howling of the dogs.

She stopped on the porch of the last house and took a deep breath.

That's when she saw the string of lights coming down the hill.

Cars? No, the vehicles were too large. Trucks, then, coming fast. They would be here any moment.

Thank God.

Rico must have reached someone. But had there been time for Rico to make contact and mobilize help? Not likely.

Three trucks roared by her, army trucks heading for the plaza. Fear iced through her. There had been army trucks in Danzar too.

She was being paranoid. It could be help. Or it could be––

Emily. She had to get to Emily.

She flew down the steps, out the gate, and down the block.

Emily looked up as she ran through the door. “What is it? I heard the––”

“Get out. You've got to get out.” She hurried to the crib and threw up the mosquito netting. Josie beamed up at her. “Take her away.”

“What the hell do you mean?”

“Army trucks have arrived. But it's too soon.” She scooped Josie up and wrapped her in a blanket. “They shouldn't be here yet.”

“You shouldn't be touching––”

“Then you take her. Just get out. Those trucks shouldn't be here yet.”

“You don't know that. They could be––”

“It's not
right
. It doesn't feel right.” She thrust Josie at Emily. “Leave now. Go out the back way and run up to the foothills. I'll go to the plaza and check the situation out. If everything's okay, I'll come and bring you back.”

“Are you crazy? I'm not going to leave you here.”

“You've got to go. You've got to take Josie away. She's only a baby. She's helpless. What if–– They could hurt her, Emily.”

Emily looked down at Josie in her arms. “No one would hurt her.”

“They could. They might.” Tears were streaming down her face. “You don't know what–– Oh, Christ, get out of here.”

“Then you come with us.”

“No, one of us has to see what's going on.”

“Then let me do it.” Emily started for the door.

“No!”
She grabbed Emily's shoulders. “Listen to me. You're a doctor. You have a child of your own. What do I know about babies? It's only logical that you be the one who––” Emily was shaking her head. “Don't risk Josie because you want to protect me. I won't have it, Emily.” She pushed past her toward the door. “Don't be an ass. Do what I tell you. I'll come for you when I know it's safe.” She could feel Emily's stunned gaze on her.

“Bess!”

“Don't you dare follow me. Get
out
.” She ran toward the plaza.

Don't come after me, she prayed. Run, Emily. Be safe, Emily.

Men were pouring from the army trucks. Men dressed in white decontamination suits and helmets, gleaming in the darkness like ghosts. One man was moving toward the fountain. The others were fanning out, entering the houses on three sides of the square. One man stood silent, watching, beside the back of a truck.

Bess took a deep breath. It could still be all right. “You've come too late,” she called as she hurried forward. “They're almost all dead. Everyone is––” The man who had reached the fountain was pouring something into the water. “What are you doing? It's too late to––”

The man by the truck turned toward her.

She inhaled sharply as the headlights illuminated his face behind the transparent visor. She instinctively whirled away to run.

His gloved hand fell on her shoulder. “You're right, it's too late.”

The last thing she saw was his fist arching toward her face.

Three

White walls. The strong smell of antiseptic.

The same smell that had assaulted Bess when she woke up in the hospital after Danzar.

No.

Panic raced through her as her eyes flew open.

“Don't be afraid.” A man was smiling down at her. Fortyish, dark skin, Indian features, a hooked nose, faintly gray at the temples. She had never seen him before.

She started to sit up and then collapsed back on the bed as dizziness overcame her.

“You mustn't move too quickly,” the man said soothingly. “You've been very ill. We're not sure the fever is gone yet.”

“Fever?”

Was he a doctor? He was wearing a gray military uniform. Decorations beribboned his chest. “Who are you?”

He bowed slightly. “Colonel Rafael Esteban. I've been put in charge of this unfortunate situation at Tenajo.”

Tenajo.

Sweet Jesus, Tenajo.

He considered what happened unfortunate? What an understatement. “Where am I?”

“San Andreas. A very small military medical facility.”

“How long have I been here?”

“Two days. You were brought here directly when my man found you at Tenajo.”

“Your man?” Memory flooded back to her. Cold blue eyes, high cheekbones, and a face that was hard, ugly, brutal. “He hit me.”

“Kaldak has been disciplined. You were running toward him and he was afraid you'd contaminate him.”

He hadn't been afraid. And she had been running away from him, not toward him. “I wasn't ill. He knocked me unconscious.”

“Yes, it was after you woke up that he realized you were ill. You were screaming and out of control. He had to give you a shot and brought you here. You don't remember?”

“Of course I don't remember. It didn't happen. If he told you I was ill, he lied.”

He shook his head.

“I tell you, he deliberately attacked me. And contaminate him against what? What happened at Tenajo?”

“Cholera. A particularly virulent strain.”

“You're sure? Emily said the symptoms were––” Terror surged through her. “Emily. Where's my sister? Is she ill too?”

“Yes. She's not doing quite as well as you, but don't worry. She'll soon be on her way to recovery.”

“I want to see her.”

“That's not possible,” he said gently. “You're too ill.”

“I'm not ill. I feel fine.” It was a lie. She felt sluggish and lightheaded. “And I want to see my sister.”

“Tomorrow or the next day.” He paused. “In the meantime, I have a great favor to ask of you. You can imagine the panic that would ensue if news of what happened at Tenajo got out before we could complete our investigation.”

She couldn't believe what he was implying. “You're saying you want to cover it up?”

He looked shocked. “Certainly not. We merely need a little time. Water samples were taken and are on their way to the Centers for Disease Control. As soon as we have results we'll be able to take appropriate action.”

She supposed that made sense. Damage control was common in government and military circles. Esteban's request wasn't really that unusual. And maybe she had been ill and was just being paranoid.

But Esteban had said they'd taken water samples. Yet she had seen something put
into
the fountain. What if the Mexican government had committed some sort of environmental foul-up and was trying to cover it up? “And what do you want from me?”

He smiled. “Nothing very much. Just your patience and your silence for the next few days. Is that too much to ask?”

“Maybe. I want to see my sister.”

“In a few days.”

“I want to see her now.”

“Be reasonable. Neither of you is well enough.”

She tried to think through her growing uneasiness. That he didn't want her to see Emily could mean one of two things. Either Emily and Josie had escaped, or Emily was a prisoner. “I want to speak to someone from the American embassy.”

He clucked reprovingly. “You don't seem to realize your position. You're very ill and in no shape to have visitors.”

“I'm not ill and I want to see someone from the American embassy.”

“In time. You really must be patient.” He went to the door and motioned someone to come in. “It's time for your shot now.”

“Shot?”

“You need to rest. Sleep is so healing.”

She went rigid when a white-coated orderly entered the room carrying a hypodermic tray. “I don't need to go to sleep. I just woke up.”

“But sleep brings wisdom,” Esteban said.

“I don't need––”

She jerked as the needle entered her right arm.

 

The next twenty-four hours were lost in a haze.

She woke, she slept. She woke again. Sometimes Esteban was there, looking at her. Sometimes she was alone.

Emily, where was Emily? She had to find––

The needle again.

And darkness.

 

Esteban was standing over her. He wasn't alone.

That hard face, those blue eyes gazing down at her with dispassion––they were familiar.
Kaldak.
The man in Tenajo. The one who had hit her. Esteban had said he had been disciplined, but that was a lie. This man wouldn't tolerate being disciplined.

“You can't put it off much longer,” Kaldak said. “She's a witness.”

“Don't be so eager. There's still a little time. Habin is uneasy about disposing of an American citizen. I can wait.” Esteban smiled down at Bess. “Ah, awake again? How do you feel?”

Her tongue felt thick, but she managed to form a word. “Bastard.”

His smile faded. “Actually, I am, but how unkind of you to comment on it. Maybe you're right, Kaldak. Perhaps I've been indulging Habin.”

“Emily . . . Have to see Emily.”

“Not possible. I told you that she was still ill. Though she's being much more polite and cooperative than you.”

“Liar. She's––not––here. She––ran––”

He shrugged. “Think what you like. Come along, Kaldak.”

They were gone. Darkness was closing in again.

She had to fight it. She had to think.

What Esteban and Kaldak had said meant something.

Disposing of an American citizen.

They were going to kill her.

Kaldak had wanted to do it immediately, but Habin had objected to––

Who was Habin? Didn't matter. Only Esteban and Kaldak were the threat.

What had she witnessed? A cover-up?

That didn't really matter either. Keeping herself alive mattered. And keeping Emily alive.

Esteban wouldn't let her see Emily, so she must have escaped. Dear God, she hoped her sister had escaped.

But he might already be searching for her. She had to get to Emily and warn her, protect her . . .

She was so weak, she couldn't even lift a finger.

But she wasn't ill. Esteban had lied. She had a sore jaw where Kaldak had hit her and a Band-Aid on her arm covering the needle punctures. She'd be as strong as ever if she could shake off the sedatives.

Fight the sedatives.

Think. Plan.

There had to be a way out.

 

It was nearly sunset when Esteban came back into her room. She quickly closed her eyes.

“I'm afraid you'll have to wake up, Bess. You don't mind me calling you Bess, do you? I feel very close to you.”

She kept her eyes shut.

He shook her.

She slowly opened her lids.

He smiled. “That's better. Those drugs are so annoying, aren't they? I know you must feel dreadful. Do you remember who I am?”

“Bastard,” she whispered.

“I'll ignore that insult, since our time together is rapidly drawing to a close and I don't want to part on a sour note. I need some information. We've had to be extremely careful about tapping into our usual sources, and Kaldak has unearthed practically nothing of value about you. I tried to tell my associate, Habin, that such painstaking methods weren't necessary, but he believes it's unsafe to take any action blindly.” He gently touched her cheek. “I hate to make Habin unhappy.”

She wanted to bite his hand. One twist of her head would put her within range. No, that would be futile. That wasn't what she had planned.

“You won't mind me asking you a few questions, will you?” he asked. “Then I'll let you go back to sleep.”

She didn't answer.

He frowned. “Bess?”

“When you let . . . me see my sister.”

His frown cleared. “Oh, is that all? After you tell me what I need to know.”

Bullshit. “You . . . promise?”

“Of course,” he said. “Now, you came here to do a travel article.”

She nodded.

“Who hired you?”

He was almost on top of her. That wouldn't give her a chance; he'd easily overpower her. Take a few steps back, she prayed. “John Pindry.”

“You knew him before?”

“I did an article about San Francisco for him a few years ago.” She kept her voice slurred. “Now may I see my––”

“Not yet. Tell me about your family.”

“Emily.”

“Your parents?”

“Dead.”

“When?”

“Years ago.” She faked a yawn. “Have to go to sleep . . .”

“Soon. You're being very good.” He moved away from the bed and strolled toward the window.

Yes.

“No husband? No other close relatives?”

He was trying to find out if her next of kin were going to be a problem for him. “No.”

“Poor child, you must be very lonely. A roommate?”

“No. I'm never in the U.S. long enough to share expenses.” She'd have to be careful. That sounded a little too coherent.

“You travel extensively?”

His back was still turned to her. The arrogant son of a bitch thought she was too weak to pose any threat to him.

“It's my job.”

“And what is the––”

The metal bedpan hit the back of his head. He slumped to his knees.

“Bastard.” She jumped on his back and hit him again. He fell to the floor and she straddled him. She hit him again. His head was bleeding. She hoped she'd cracked his skull open. “Who's your next of kin, you sleazy––”

Arms encircled her rib cage from behind. She was jerked off Esteban's back.

Kaldak.

She struggled wildly.

“Don't fight me.”

The hell she wouldn't fight him. She kicked backward at his shin.

“Stop it.”

“Let me go.”

Esteban was stirring. She hadn't killed him after all.

Panicked, she fought frantically against Kaldak's grip. He muttered a curse and one hand moved from around her body to her neck, beneath her left ear.

Darkness.

 

She woke a few minutes later and discovered she was strapped to the bed.

Her heart was beating so hard, she could scarcely breathe. She tugged upward. No use. She was pinned down.

Kaldak was helping Esteban to his feet. Blood was running down Esteban's temple, and he swayed on his feet. He looked down incredulously at the bedpan on the floor.

“Come on,” Kaldak said. “I'll bandage you.”

Esteban stared at Bess. “The whore hit me with that goddamn bedpan.”

Fear knotted her stomach. She had never seen such hatred in anyone's face.

“You can punish her later,” Kaldak said. “You're bleeding.”

“I'm going to kill her.”

“Not now. You've attracted too much attention already.” He was guiding Esteban toward the door. “I strapped her down. She's not going anywhere. We'll take care of her later.”

Later.

Esteban was going to kill her. Nothing could be more certain to Bess. She had humiliated him and she was going to die for it.

Esteban jerked away from Kaldak and lurched across the room toward her.


Puta
. Bitch.” He raised his hand and slapped her. “Did you think you could kill me? You know nothing about––”

“I know you're a weakling and a coward who beats up helpless women.” Her head was ringing from the blow, but the words tumbled out. Why not? She had nothing to lose. “I know you're a stupid man. Emily is too smart for you. She'll get away and show them all what an asshole you––”

He slapped her again, harder.

She glared up at him.

He leaned over the bed, so close she could feel his breath on her face and see the urine from the bedpan running down his cheeks. “You think so much of that sister of yours, don't you?”

“I know she's more clever than you'll ever––”

“Did you really think she got away from Tenajo?”

Terror seized her.

“We captured her shortly after Kaldak brought you in. She's been here at San Andreas all the time.”

“You're lying. She got away.”

“No.” His gaze was narrowed on her face, drinking in her fear and uncertainty. “She's here.”

It couldn't be true. “Prove it. Let me see her.”

He shook his head.

“Then you
are
lying.”

“It would only distress you to see her. It's such an unpleasant place.”

“Where?”

“Four floors down in the basement.” His lips curved in a malicious smile. “She's lying in a drawer in our morgue. Just as you will be soon. Your sister is dead.”

He walked out of the room.

Pain crashed through her.

Emily dead.

She didn't know it was true. The sadist enjoyed hurting her and she was sure he had lied about other things. Why should she accept what he said about Emily?

But it could be the truth. Emily could be dead.

She's lying in a drawer in our morgue.

The hideous picture was like a knife twisting inside her.

It wasn't the truth. He had just wanted to hurt her.

Emily could be alive.

Her fingernails dug painfully into her palms as her fists clenched.

Four floors down in the basement. She's lying in a drawer in our morgue.

 

“Is it the truth?” Kaldak asked as he bathed the cuts on Esteban's head. “Is the Corelli woman here?”

Esteban ignored the question. “I want that Grady bitch dead. I'm through with her. To hell with Habin.”

“As you like.”

“Now.”

Kaldak nodded. “But not here. It mustn't be connected directly with you. Some of the hospital personnel aren't in your pocket, and the orderly saw us leaving her room.”

Esteban's head was pounding with pain and fury . . . and humiliation. He felt as helpless as when he was a boy, before he had discovered how easily he could change his life.

BOOK: And Then You Die
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