Page 66 of Fear and Desire

“No, I don’t think that’s such a good idea.” He refused to meet her gaze again as he pushed her back to lie down. She resisted.

“I want to sit up!”

Now he did look at her. “Young lady, you almost died. You will lie down, now, and stay that way until Anders thinks it’s safe for you to get up.” The tone of his voice was quiet and determined, and exactly what Laura wanted to hear. She melted back down onto the mattress.

Then the moment vanished. He stood up abruptly. “Oh, hell. Who am I to tell you what to do? Obviously, I don’t know how to take care of you, or anybody else, or we wouldn’t be sitting out in the middle of some godforsaken Russian forest trying to sneak back over the border to Latvia! You should do whatever the hell you want. It’ll probably end up better for you anyway.” He turned away and jumped out of the truck.

Laura watched him walk away, stunned. What had just happened?

Sinclair appeared out of the woods, running hard towards the truck. Dan swerved to meet her and after a hurried conversation, put his fingers to his mouth and uttered the strangest bird call Laura had ever heard. Everyone appeared out of the woods and headed back to the truck at a run.

Anders and Dan catapulted into the back almost simultaneously. Anders gave Dan a questioning look.

“There’s multiple Russian Tigers headed up the road this way. I have a feeling our soldier friend called the hospital in Pskov and when we didn’t arrive, they started looking for us.”

“Shit! How far behind?”

“About a half a kilometer from the sound of the vehicles, but they’re made for traveling fast over rough terrain. And this truck might break apart if we push it too hard.”

Dan grabbed Laura and hauled her off the mattress to the end of the truck bed, ordering her to stay below the level of the tailgate. He threw the mattress over the top of her. The truck careened over the rocky and uneven ground, and more than once she was thrown hard against the metal. The air was stifling, and she was thinking of peeking out to get a breath when a loud voice broke through the air.

“Nemedlenno ostanovite gruzovik!”

She didn’t know the words, but the intent was clear. The truck didn’t pause. The voice repeated itself and then gunfire pierced the air. A tire blew under the truck and it swerved. Sinclair fought for control and kept heading forward. There was more gunfire, and this time it struck the truck near where Laura was crouched. She screamed, but the sound was lost in the chaos.

Suddenly, there was a jolt, and the shriek of metal striking metal from the front of the truck. It didn’t pause.

“Shit!” Dan yelled. “They aren’t stopping!”

“Guess an international border isn’t a good enough reason to call off a chase.”

The tense flight continued, the truck’s back end swerving left and then right. They swung around a curve and seconds later, ground to a halt.

Dan chuckled. “The border might not be enough to stop them, but armed civilians are.”

She dared to peek her head up. They were in an open field. The forest they’d just emerged from was about a half a kilometer behind them. Between the truck and the woods was a line of civilian vehicles, blocking the Russians, and standing behind the vehicles was a group of men and women, armed with an assortment of shotguns and semiautomatics. They stared down their uninvited and unwelcome neighbors. A Russian commander stood next to an armored personnel vehicle, yelling. One of the Latvian citizens yelled back. The commander spit on the ground. Then he turned on one heel, motioned to his vehicles, and disappeared inside the APV. One by one, they turned around, their tires digging deep furrows into the dirt as they swung wide circles. Eventually, they disappeared back into the woods, the noise of their retreat audible for a long time.

When the sound finally faded, the civilians turned to the Americans. Big smiles appeared as their guns disappeared. There was a lot of back-slapping and laughter between the two crowds. The trucks and cars started up and escorted the Americans to a small town. Most of the cars veered off to park in front of a bar, but the truck and one other car pulled up a few minutes later at a small, neat house with a bright flowerbed in the front.

As soon as the truck stopped, Dan picked Laura up and swung her over the tailgate into Anders’ waiting arms. Anders carried her towards the house.

“I’m fine!” She wiggled to get down.

“Stop, Laura.” Dan’s voice was flat and serious. She wanted to protest, but she glimpsed the fatigue lining his face, and held her tongue.

As they reached the front door, an older woman pushed the screen open. She caught sight of Laura and began firing rapid questions in Dan’s direction. She didn’t wait for the answers, though, before ushering them into the house. She pointed towards a door and Anders carried her into a bedroom. He deposited her on a brightly colored bedspread, pulled a blanket up over her, and left.

As she dozed, she listened to the animated conversation in Latvian and English between the woman, a man who was translating, and Dan. Dan kept his voice low enough that she couldn’t hear what he was telling them, but from the outrage in the woman’s voice, it seemed she was hearing at least part of the story.

When Laura woke, it was dark outside. The cheerful woman was coming into the room.

“Tu esi nomoda!I am Darya Vasilyeva.” She beamed, her accent thick but understandable.

“Hello Mrs. Vasilyeva. I’m Laura Hurst.”

“Please. I am Darya. I have some food for you.”

“Real food?” Laura struggled to sit up. How long had it been since she’d eaten? A week?

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