He signaled to Jacob and Kele. They raised their assault rifles in concert with him. However, they’d promised not to fire unless Zeke gave the signal. No way was his vision going to play out with bullets striking this man in his belly and heart. Even if that happened somehow, Liz would never know. Zeke would see to it, not allowing her to reanimate this guy or anyone else.
“Show me your hands or you’re dead,” Zeke said.
The young man turned and stared at the three rifles pointed at him. He raised his hands as he pushed to his feet.
The wind pulled at his hair just as it had in Zeke’s vision. Dust coated his clothing as though he’d been out here awhile. Why?
“I mean you no harm,” he said.
Sure. “Drop your backpack.”
He did instantly. It landed on the ground with a muted whap, dirt scattering around it.
Zeke gestured to Jacob. His brother grabbed the rucksack. When he was a safe distance from the young man, Jacob opened the top flap and examined the contents.
“It’s just water and food,” the intruder said.
Jacob nodded. “He’s right.” Leaving the item, he went to the man. “Hands behind your head.”
Immediately, the intruder assumed the position. Jacob patted him down. He even checked his socks and shoes, then stood. “No weapons.”
That should have been a good thing, but it didn’t ease Zeke’s tension. If this man was nothing more than a hiker or grad student, letting him go could prove problematic. Back home, he’d talk about being threatened by a group of people with weapons. He might interest the cops in why anyone was in this particular location. The authorities might believe drugs were involved and could possibly investigate.
To avoid that, they’d have to keep the young man here as their newest prisoner. Surely he had a family, possibly a wife and maybe even a kid. What would they think when he didn’t return? What would they do?
Shit. “Why are you here?” Zeke asked.
The young man lowered his arms, then froze as though he realized the movement might get him shot because he hadn’t obeyed. When that didn’t happen, he blurted, “I’m looking for Liz.”
Of course he was. Carreon had sent him after all. That made all of this so much easier than having to keep him from a normal life, a wife and child that certainly didn’t exist.
With the mention of Liz’s name, Jacob had grabbed his two-way radio. He spoke into it. “What are the cameras showing?”
“Nothing,” the voice crackled back. It sounded like Ike’s.
“How far away are you looking?” Jacob asked.
“As far as we can go. No one’s out there. No vehicles are headed this way.”
Zeke didn’t get it. This guy was alone and unarmed but was still looking for Liz? “Check the food,” he said, half expecting some toxin or explosive to be inside.
“I’ll do it,” Kele offered.
She sniffed the bottled water, then poured it out and waited. After several seconds, she said, “The ants are still alive.” She next opened the candy bars and trail mix, showing both to Zeke.
The food proved to be exactly what the packages said.
“Hidden compartments?” Zeke asked.
“There are none,” the intruder said.
Kele checked anyway. “Nothing.” She held the backpack at an angle so Zeke could see there wasn’t anything inside.
“How do you know Liz?” Zeke asked.
“All of our clan knows who she and her father are. That she’s healed for Carreon.”
“Your leader,” Zeke said.
“No.” The young man matched Zeke’s frown. “My half brother. I’m his oldest sibling, Diaz.”
Chapter Nine
Unable to tolerate the unacceptable, Liz left her father’s room.
She heard him scrambling to his feet behind her, the bedsprings creaking as he left the mattress. He called from the doorway, “Liz, don’t. Zeke wants you in here.”
Zeke wanted a lot of things she didn’t agree with, couldn’t accept.
She walked backward, away from her father as she spoke. “I’ll be fine. There’s nothing to worry about.”
“Liz!”
He wasn’t young enough to catch up with her. Liz used that to her advantage and roamed the stronghold, searching for Zeke. She had to convince him that he and her father were wrong. There wasn’t anything the matter with her.
So what if she’d fainted in the Jeep—something she still couldn’t accept. Anything could have caused it. Exhaustion. Continuing terror at what Carreon would do. Any freaking thing.
Even if it were more than that, she had to heal no matter the consequences. She couldn’t just let the people she loved slip away while she remained safe. How could she live with herself after that? Losing her father was unthinkable. Never seeing Zeke again was a possibility she couldn’t endure. There was no way she wanted to go on without him.
There had to be a solution to this. If she began slowly, tending to a small cut perhaps, then working her way up to more serious injuries, surely nothing bad would happen. Zeke would see that she remained alert and alive. He’d stop this nonsense, no longer keeping her from fighting at his side to insure his safety.
In the kitchen, women and men were preparing food. Upon seeing her, they exchanged glances, then stared without offering any greeting or challenge. Liz couldn’t recall which of these women had voted for her and her father to leave the stronghold.
“Hi,” she said, having no other choice than to speak first.
No one offered a greeting in return.
Liz hadn’t really expected one, but there had still been some hope, which she dismissed quickly. She spoke on a sigh. “I’m looking for Zeke. Do you know where he is?”
Each of the women and the few men shook their heads.
Whether they were lying or not wasn’t something Liz could determine.
She checked the dining hall next. Not there. Nor was he in the large communal room where the youngest of the children sometimes played while the adults relaxed nearby.
Liz recalled the last time she’d been in the bosque, an area of thick vegetation hidden between the mountain’s many peaks. There the older children had a chance to play outside, run off their energy. Salt cedar trees and cottonwood provided shade and some relief from the blistering temperatures.
Today, no one was out here. Leaves rustled in the scant breeze, parting momentarily to allow the brutal sun to shine through.
After returning inside, Liz went down countless halls and finally ended up in an area with a long table and numerous chairs, reminiscent of an office’s conference room. It was also empty.
Where was everyone, aside from those in the kitchen? Especially the men? Did Zeke have them on guard duty to make certain the stronghold was safe since Carreon’s last attack? Had they holed up in some hidden room, while they planned an assault on him? What if Zeke got injured…or killed…during the strike? What if Jacob or the other men couldn’t retrieve his body and bring it back for her or her father to reanimate?
How many hours or days after death would it be possible to bring Zeke back to life? The time limit wasn’t infinite. If his people were anything like hers, his body would retain its heat, there’d be no decay, making him seem as though he were only sleeping. However, within weeks he’d crumble to dust.
Taken from her forever.
Liz wrapped her arms around herself and gasped at the sudden pain in her belly, driven by intolerable sorrow. She tried to calm down but couldn’t. Her thoughts…her worries…continued to bombard her.
Even if her father could save Zeke dozens of times, that couldn’t last forever. When her father passed, she’d be the only one who could heal Zeke, Jacob and their clan.
And she would. If anyone tried to stop her, she’d fight them. What other choice did she have?