Page 85 of Hunter

“A time to kill. A time to mourn. A time for every purpose under heaven,” he crooned.

When she opened the back door and picked up the blankets she found on the seat, he stood with his legs stiff, his shoulders rigid.

“Get on the floor,” she told him.

He made a strangled sound but obeyed, and she pulled the covering over him, eying the camouflage critically. In the dark, it might work.

Inspecting herself in the mirror she adjusted her cap so that the visor hid most of her face. Then she started the engine. Hunter was still mumbling under the blanket as they pulled onto the road.

God, she needed help. Even if they made it off the base, Emerson would send men after them. They needed a place to hide. If she called some of her friends, could they tell her where to hole up?

At that moment, the phone on the seat beside her rang. Startled, she stared at it. The caller ID said Decorah Security, emergency line.

God, what was that? Some place called Decorah Security was calling the doctor. She hesitated for long moments, as the phone kept up its insistent ring. Finally, because it wasn’t an internal call, she took a chance and answered it.

“Hello?”

“Who is this?” a deep male voice answered.

“Kathryn Kelley.”

“Kathryn, this is Jonah Raider of Decorah Security. We’ve been trying to contact you. Why are you on Dr. Kolb’s line?”

Blocking out Hunter’s rambling speech from the back seat, she answered, “He’s been shot. I’m trying to get Hunter out of here.”

“Who is Hunter?”

“The man I was hired to work with. It’s a long story. Why are you calling the doctor?”

“He’s the only one in there we thought might be willing to help you. All calls are blocked, but we figured out how to get through to him.”

“He’s still on the base. I have his car. I’m driving toward the gate now. He gave me a pass that should get us through.”

“Good. We have a unit stationed in your vicinity. We can’t go in because if we got caught on the grounds of a U.S. government preserve, we’d risk getting shot and branded as traitors or saboteurs. Our agents are in position a couple of miles down the main road. Turn left when you leave the grounds.”

“I understand,” she whispered.

She felt like a drowning swimmer who had just been tossed a lifeline. “You . . . you have men up here?”

“Yes. Standing by.”

“Okay, I’m in a silver Honda. Could you have a doctor available?”

“What happened? Are you all right?” She glanced at the back seat, seeing the large bulk under the blanket shaking. A shiver of fear went through her as she lowered her voice. “It’s Hunter.”

“Is he wounded?”

She gulped, gripped the wheel, fighting not to let the fear swamp her. “Shell-shocked or something like it. I can’t say any more.”

“I understand. Good luck.”

“Thanks.” She was overwhelmed as she hung up.

Hunter was still talking to himself in the back seat.

“We’re almost to the guard station; you’ve got to be quiet,” she told him. “And don’t move.”

Thankfully, he stopped his babbling as the car slowed.

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