Page 35 of Alien Mine

“Mr. Dyuvad?” Kelly said. “Is something wrong?”

“It’s nothing, sweet.” Nothing for her to worry over, anyway. He pulled her into a hug, kissed her forehead, and hoped he hadn’t just lied to her in the worst way possible. “Are you familiarwith the location where the goat van is parked?”

She nodded, swishing fine strands of hair around her sun kissed face.

“Good. Call your uncle and tell him to go there as quickly as he can. Describe the scene for him. Can you do that?”

“Yessir, I can do that.” She hopped off the couch, took off his com, and handed it to him. “You reckon Mama’s ok? I mean, them men was only checking on her, right?”

He hadn’t the heart to tell her any differently, yet couldn’t bring himself to lie to her. “Call Fate, sweet.”

She opened her mouth, closed it again, and her lips thinned into a firm line. “Yessir.”

Dyuvad didn’t wait to see if she obeyed him. He cradled Tiny in his arms and carried her to her room, tucked her gently into bed under a thin blanket, then stalked into his own room through the opening between it and Rachel’s, refastening his com as he walked. He hated it, but if jumping was the only way he could protect Rachel and her daughters, he would by Wode do it.

And hope by Fryw’s mercy he didn’t pass out in the doing.

The rain continued through Rachel’s meeting into the lunch hour, drenching her when she exited Jude’s office. A quick check of her phone and she sighed. Yasmin had messaged and canceled their lunch plans, adding a promise to drop by after work with an explanation.

Rachel tousled the wet strands of her hair while her van’s finicky engine warmed. It was just as well Yasmin had had to work. Rachel’s carefully selected outfit had been soaked in the twenty or so feet between Jude’s office and the parking lot. Summer rain did that to a body.

Resigned to a cold sandwich at home, she fastened her seatbelt, shifted the van into gear, and carefully navigated out of the parking lot onto Main Street. It wouldn’t be so bad. The girls would be napping by the time she got home. Dyuvad would likely be puttering on some project or other, and Fate would’ve runhome at the first drop of rain. She could settle down at the kitchen table with a library book, a ham on rye, and a tall, frosty glass of lemonade, and enjoy the rare reprieve from family and work.

The scenario was so pleasant, Rachel allowed it to distract her from the winding drive home on rain slicked roads. The traffic had thinned during the worst of the storm and was reduced to the odd farm truck whishing by in the other lane on its way into town. The rain was steady here, a light drizzle drenching the summer green trees and parched grass. Cows sloshed through fields, bowing their heads as they nipped wet greens out of the ground, and houses hunched under the dark sky like sullen children waiting for the sunshine to reappear.

A mile away from Warwoman Dell, three motorcycles passed her on an infrequent straight section. All three riders wore helmets and not a stitch more of protective gear over their soaked t-shirts and baggy shorts. Rachel clucked her tongue, aghast at their lack of regard for their own safety. What was it about young people these days? Did they all think they were invincible? Didn’t they know better than to drive a motorcycle helter-skelter during a rain shower?

She shook her head. Not a lick of sense between the three, she’d wager.

The rain finally sputtered out just as she was slowing down ahead of the curves in the Dell. She glanced at her rearview mirror, did a double take at the black sedan riding her bumper. Where in the world had that come from?

As soon as she thought it, a second car sped by her, passing her illegally at the head of a sharp curve. It swerved back into the lane ahead of her, barely clearing her front bumper. Rachel inhaled sharply and tapped her brakes on the slim hope she could slow enough to keep from hitting the dingbat or, worse, fishtailing off the road into the forest surrounding it.

The car in front of her tapped its brakes. Lights flared brightly across the back end under a rear spoiler, a close match to the lurid red paint job. Rachel gritted her teeth against the irritation jerking her heart into erratic beats. What in the goodLord’s name was that driver up to?

It didn’t take her long to figure it out. The car in front of her kept slowing. One of the motorcycles she’d spotted earlier doubled back, flying through the curves, then did a u-ee in the middle of the road behind them and finally came alongside her.

She was cinched in, bracketed by the three vehicles and the forest. The first hint of fear skipped into her stomach. She swallowed and focused on the road, her hands tight on the steering wheel as a million thoughts flashed through her mind. It could be anybody in those cars, anybody at all, but a nasty feeling joined the fear in her gut, and with it a growing certainty.

It was Miguel Ramirez’ boys, had to be. Nobody else would risk turning the top heavy van over on a dangerous stretch of highway. Nobody else wanted something out of her she wasn’t willing to give or barter for.

Her breath choked in her throat and sweat broke out on her skin. Dear Lord, why hadn’t she brought Fate or Dyuvad along? Why did she have to stick so stubbornly to her independence now of all times?

The car in front of her slowed to a crawl, then stopped just past the entrance into the Warwoman Dell Recreation Area. The motorcycle pulled up beside her and stopped. The driver turned a helmeted head toward her and gestured toward the entrance, and Rachel’s mind swirled to a stuttering stop.

In the Dell, she’d be mostly out of sight of the road. Cell reception was spotty at best, thanks to the natural granite bedrock underlying the soil and the National Forest cushioning the Dell from civilization. Even if she could call for help, nobody would get here in time to save her.

From what, she couldn’t say for sure, but she had a couple of ideas, none of them pleasant to dwell on.

She eyed the car in front of her. If she waited long enough, surely another car would come along and see her and Miguel’s dang fool henchmen sitting in the middle of the road.

On the other hand, the van was bigger than the dinky, souped up car blocking the lane. She could push it out of the roadand make a run for the house. Not quickly. The van wasn’t very powerful. On a good day with a tail wind, it might hit fifty-five. There was no tail wind today, but she had to try, didn’t she?

Before she could make up her mind, the motorcycle rider leaned toward her and popped a balled up fist into the driver’s side window. Rachel yelped and pressed a damp palm to her pounding heartbeat. No choices, then. Please God, let Dyuvad get curious about what was taking her so long and round up Fate to come find her.

She turned the steering wheel hard and eased the van onto the Dell’s access road, then scrounged inside her purse for her cell phone as she drove one handed. The signal icons dotting the phone’s glowing face were blacked out. As she’d thought, there was no cell service. She was alone with these goons, alone and dang near helpless. Too bad she hadn’t thought to bring her bat with her on the trip or a gun. One of Fate’s pistols sure would come in handy right about now. Who could’ve predicted that Miguel would extend his bothering outside her property?

She parked in the uncharacteristically empty gravel parking lot, locked her door and the passenger’s side door, then switched the engine off while the motorcycles and cars parked around her. It’s not like she could go anywhere, but she didn’t have to make it easy for them, either.

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