The Empty (34 page)

“Dolnaraq is not of my pack!” shouted Tresset as he drew close to his adversary.

“Yet you come running to protect him,” smiled the young Noavor as he made his way down the uneven slope to meet his foe.

“No, I came to see a pup who fancies himself a chieftain,” answered Tresset. Already, he’d pulled the disinfectant cloth from his pocket.

Noavor swaggered forward, his lieutenants close behind. “I’m young. So what? Can your old brain even remember your youth?”

“I remember being a fool.”

Noavor laughed. “Then, maybe you haven’t changed as much as I thought.” Noavor’s companions howled in exaggerated laughter at this middling joke.

Tresset glared at the other. “Dolnaraq was right in one aspect. If we are to survive, the reyaqc do need to unite. I offered an alliance. You responded with a raid.”

Noavor chuckled. “That’s a simple way of looking at it.” He stepped to within ten feet of Tresset, stood straight, his head cocked just slightly to the left. “In your plan, you became the leader and I the follower.”

Tresset squeezed his cloth. “My experience is far greater than yours, my long-term strategies sound.”

“My drive and energy make you look old and pathetic. Look at this place, oh great strategist. Your pack is beaten. For every minute we stand here yakking, more of your people die.”

“As do yours, Noavor. Look closer. It is not we that near defeat.”

The young chieftain chuckled.

Dolnaraq lifted his head. It seemed a great effort for him to draw breath, but with obvious pain, he hauled himself up and shouted, “Stop the fighting! While you’re negotiating, stop the fighting.” Then he slumped down again, his lungs heaving, bloodied spittle dripping from swollen lips. It seemed that in such a position, arms extended, head down, his entire weight supported by his wrists, that breathing had become an extreme burden.

Tresset despised weakness, and surely asking a favor of his enemy would be just that. But Dolnaraq suffered, and despite all that had come between them, this agonized the senior chieftain at a level much deeper than conscious thought. “Release Dolnaraq. He has nothing to do with this.”

Noavor smiled. “I thought you said he was not of your pack.”

“He came only earlier today on another matter. Release him. His wisdom may not be as infallible as he would like to believe, but he’s done much for the reyaqc. There’s no need to make a spectacle of him.”

Noavor seemed to contemplate this for a moment, and then, smiling, he turned, strolling up the dusty incline to where Dolnaraq hung, and before Tresset realized what he was doing, he’d freed his claws, raking them across Dolnaraq’s chest.

With a roaring howl of utmost agony, Tresset burst through Noavor’s startled lieutenants and fell upon the smarmy chieftain.

CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

Julia cradled the infant as she and Charles slinked through the shadows along the southern end of the compound. Though Charles urged her to leave the child behind, she staunchly refused to do so. He’d grumbled and groused, but he knew her well enough to realize she wouldn’t be persuaded on this. But the addition of the child negated his Ninja as a means of escape. There was no way she could hold the infant while squeezing against Charles’ back as they road over rough terrain.

Charles found the keys to the Hummer in Shane’s pocket. They crept through darkness, moving past the multiple animal cages. The beasts were in a state of panic. As yet, no fire had reached them, but ash-filled smoke filled the air and each breath burned as it went down. The caged creatures raced about their confines, pawed at the walls, growled and whimpered. A spider monkey clung to the wire bars of its pen, shaking furiously and screeching in a terrified falsetto. A red fox paced one direction then another, back forth, back forth, its nose twitching, its tongue hanging limply out of one side of its muzzle. Julia felt bad for them, and if there had been time, she might have even released the non-threatening breeds.

She looked away from the caged beasts and into the smoke filled night. The moon glowed red as its rays pierced the fiery sky. The smoke irritated her eyes, dried them, caused them to feel scratchy each time she blinked. The baby stirred in her arms and she pulled Charles’ jacket back to peek at the strange child she’d claimed as her own. Her life was suddenly inverted. This was now her first responsibility, the safety of the child. All else was secondary.

They made their way past the cages. There was a small wooden shed just ahead and then, just beyond, a larger building, single-story, old and surely rotted. Their plan was to skirt the southern end of the compound and then sweep north, working their way along the western outskirts of the place and toward the vehicle.

In truth, Julia was amazed that Charles had found her, or, if not that he had found her, that he had gone to such great lengths to find her. He hadn’t yet had the opportunity to share the details, but clearly he’d expended some effort in locating her. When they got out of here—if they got out of here—then what? Charles wanted another chance with her, that much was clear. But did she want him? Was there anything left of the love they’d shared, or had the twenty-pound sledgehammer of his sudden rejection shattered all hopes for them? Could the relationship be repaired, and maybe even more importantly, should they even try?

Charles paused, cautioned her to stay low. There was some sort of commotion up ahead. They were behind the tiny shed now, and she peeked around the corner to the southwest. A cluster of reyaqc stood there, three held torches, illuminating the scene. Two beastly creatures rolled about the rocky ground slashing and biting at one another as the others stood watching the brawl. Another form, perhaps fifteen feet further up the rise, hung strapped to wooden planks—crucified. Julia squinted, attempting to draw the figure into focus, but the torches caused him to appear more as a silhouette than anything else. Though every few seconds, each time the breeze moved from east to west, it seemed a truer light flashed across his face. All at once, the features seemed familiar.

Remaining firmly in the shadows, Julia stepped around Charles, attempting to gain a clearer view of the scene.

“Julia, what are you doing?” Charles’ voice was a sharp hiss.

“The man on the cross, I need to get a better look at him.”

Charles cursed as she stepped further from him, crouching beside a ten foot high mound of gravel to her left. Gaining a different angle, she hoped to achieve a clearer view. Charles had followed, and probably for fear of discovery remained silent. Still, Julia sensed his anger. Of course, he thought her foolish. Perhaps she was. But she had to know. Moving just a little further now, she peeked around the gravel mound and up to the left…

It was him.

Donald Baker.

Julia held the infant closer, her arms trembling as she considered the situation. She’d not cared for Donald. He’d proven devious, single-minded, and outright criminal. Kidnapping, after all, was a federal offence. That said—everything he’d done was to the goal of aiding his species. He wasn’t antagonistic to Julia, or to any humans. As far as she could tell, it was simply that he had a burning passion to aid the reyaqc. Based on the deference she’d witnessed the reyaqc showing him, she surmised that he had a certain clout among them, and without a doubt he was the most civilized reyaqc she’d encountered. She clutched the infant closer. What would happen should Donald be killed? What other reyaqc could she trust to guide her in raising this child? What other reyaqc would even allow her to keep the baby? As illogical as it might seem, she was keeping the child. Minya had given her that charge, and Julia accepted. She believed Minya wanted more for this baby than life in the barren desert, that she saw in Julia a greater hope for that child. Likewise, Julia saw Donald Baker as her only means of succeeding in this mission. She might be wrong on this last count, but she didn’t think so. Donald was key, both to her adopted child, and to the survival of these other reyaqc.

“We’ve got to rescue him.”

Charles jaw nearly dropped to the dirt. “Him? The guy on the cross? Julia that’s insane.”

“That’s Donald Baker.” Julia said this as if this information alone was all Charles would need.

“Okay, that’s Baker—so what? Didn’t he kidnap you? Isn’t he one of
them
?” With the last word Charles waved his arm in a wide arc, indicting the entire compound.

Julia turned to face her husband. “Charles, we need him. He’s important, both to the reyaqc as a whole and to the safety of this baby.”

Charles stared at her, his expression one of exasperated disbelief.

Julia glanced up at Donald again. His chest heaved. His limbs quivered. “I know this is insanity to you. It is to me too. But our chances of survival are much greater with him than without him.” She paused, scanning the shadows, surveying the terrain. “Even without Donald, we can’t continue in this direction. We’d be walking right in front of that brawl.” Julia pointed to her left. “If we swing around this way, behind the cages and then up the back side of that rise, I think we can sneak up behind Donald, untie him, and then maybe slip down the back. After that, we can make our way to the Hummer.”

Charles stared at her for a moment before speaking. His Adam’s apple bobbed, his jaw tightened. She was asking him to further risk his life. “You sure you want to do this?”

Julia gazed down at the infant in her arms, at the two pearl-like eyes staring up at her in perfect innocence. As strange as it seemed, Donald Baker was the only one she trusted where this child was concerned. “I’m doing it, Charles, whether you come with me or not.”

He nodded. There wasn’t much else for him to say.

CHAPTER FORTY-TWO

Donald gritted his teeth, flexed his biceps, and arched his back, pulling himself up in order to gain a gulp of fiery air. It seemed the stuff was mostly soot, but still, it filled his lungs, eased the need for breath. Relaxing now, he allowed his head to slump forward upon his chest. Breathing was near impossible with his arms spread to support his entire weight on this rotting wooden structure. In another thirty seconds or perhaps a minute, he would pull himself upright again in order to gain his next gulp of life. He would again feel the muscles of his upper arms tear, would endure the coarse and splintering wood scraping against his bare back, would suffer the ropes rubbing against his wrists wearing the skin raw and bloody.

His gaze fell upon the scene several yards below. Tresset and Bytneht Noavor thrashed and rolled about, each injuring the other with every slash and bite. Noavor was larger, younger. He was defter of movement. His agility far surpassed that of his opponent. But Tresset was tested. He possessed a patience born of experience. His instincts were sharp, his every strike masterful. Still, he tired. Even through the smoky haze, even amidst his own suffering, Donald saw his age-old companion faltering.

Donald lifted himself once again, gathered a breath, and attempted to shout to the combatants. “You are not so different as you think. Talk! Not battle!” But his warnings were naught but the feeble croaking of a used-up reyaqc tied to a wooden frame. It was doubtful that any heard his words. If anyone had, well, not one pair of eyes turned in his direction.

As Donald watched through bleary eyes, Tresset kneed Noavor in the groin, and then quickly tossed him to the left. Springing to his feet, Tresset huffed, his lungs heaving at the exertion. But still he leaped forward just as his opponent sought to right himself. But Noavor anticipated the lunge, sidestepping Tresset and gaining the upped hand.

Donald tensed, once again lifting himself to breathe.

There was a sound from behind. Whispered voices. He turned his head but could see nothing from his angle. Yet, there was a scent on the air—two actually. Humans. “Julia?”

“Yes.” Her voice was but a whisper. “Don’t draw attention to yourself. We’re here to free you.”

Who was the other one, the male that he smelled? Clearly he was not one of the pack’s givers. His scent was too civilized. Even through the perspiration, Donald smelled musky cologne and the sweet odor of hair product. Not Shane. The scent was different. Who was this man?

The frame shuddered. He’d been crucified upon an x-shaped structure. Support beams ran from the ground to the top of each arm of the “x” where Donald’s hands were strapped. Another plank rose to the center point where both lines of the “x” converged. These boards were being pulled free, one at a time. The male supported the structure with his back as Julia pulled and twisted at each support until the nails were freed and she could drop the boards carefully to the ground. Now, as Julia held the board on Donald’s left, the male inched to the right, clasped the plank just above Donald’s right hand, and they lowered the frame. Donald now laid on his back staring into the smoke filled sky.

“Hurry. I must intervene before Tresset is killed.”

“We’re doing what we can,” said the male. “Just stay still while I untie these straps.”

Julia’s face loomed above Donald. She’d just retrieved something that had been lying perhaps five feet off to the side. She cradled a lime green and black riding jacket. Donald smelled the infant reyaqc within. “The girl, Minya, her child?”

Julia nodded. “We need to get the baby to safety. We’re going to take the Hummer. Come with us. After the battle’s done, we can return.”

Donald’s right arm and leg were free. He took a deep breath. His lungs still ached, but breathing was easier now. “I can’t leave, Julia. Not now. Take the car. Gain some distance from the battle. But don’t stray too far. That baby needs the care of a reyaqc.”

“I promised Minya I’d raise the child.”

Donald stared at her for a long moment. There was a determination in this woman, a will that he’d sensed earlier and now proved strong and unshakable. He nodded. She offered a weak smile.

An agonized screech pierced the night air. At the same time loping footsteps drew near.