“We’re almost home, baby,” she said, between deep breaths. Her legs were beginning to wear and her tongue felt like the entire Russian Army had marched across it in their socks. There had been cases of bottled water lying among the mounds of medical equipment. She’d have given up her house in Albuquerque for a single liter right now.
They were crossing the crest of the third set of dunes, when Leah heard the heavy thud of attack helicopters as they began sweeping the desert. They must have assumed she’d stick close to the paved road, since most of their efforts seemed to be in that direction, at least for the moment.
“Got to keep going,” she said, willing her aching legs to continue carrying them across the dunes.
To Leah’s dismay, when she reached the summit of the next mountainous dune, the sea of sand seemed to stretch right to the horizon. The fantasy of crossing two or three sets of dunes before running into national park facilities or personnel had been only that — a fantasy. These dunes ran for what looked like at least twenty miles in each direction, with nothing but barren sand beyond.
Forty minutes later, she’d crossed three more dune summits and — working in her favor — the helicopters had suddenly ceased their search, disappearing into the distance. She couldn’t believe they’d give up that easily.
It seemed like she’d only made it across two more dunes when her worst fears were realized: helicopters were again sweeping in low over the desert; they banked toward the dune sea. She couldn’t escape the helicopters; they’d be on top of her in minutes.
Leah looked every direction, hoping to find some cover, any cover. The green flight jacket would stand out like a beacon, identifying her and K’aalógii from miles away.
Leah stood with her legs spread wide, breathing heavily, wondering which of the two helicopters would spot them first.
She was so focused on the weaving helicopters that at first she didn’t feel the tug on her jacket. It was only after she heard, “Anihiilaaigii!” repeated for the second time that she looked down.
K’aalógii’s eyes were opened wide and she was pointing toward the deadly ballet as the helicopters worked up one set of dunes and down another.
“Anihiilaaigii,” she repeated pushing herself out of Leah’s grasp and falling to the sand.
Leah had to think for a moment.
Anihiilaaigii.
That’s what she’d asked Leah when she’d been revived.
Gods, or the Creators — her abductors. To K’aalógii these were no mere flying machines; they were the enemy, reborn above her.
Before Leah could explain, K’aalógii squirmed out of her arms and began digging a hole in the sand with energy that a minute before Leah would have thought impossible.
She stopped for a moment and turned toward Leah and said something in rapid Navajo that Leah couldn’t understand. But the message was clear. If she wanted to live, Leah should help K’aalógii dig a hole deep enough that they could hide.
Leah nodded and then began digging furiously alongside the girl. When the hole appeared halfway done, K’aalógii tugged on the thermal blanket.
Leah looked at the child in amazement. She’d figured out that the silver thermal blanket was a nearly the same color as the glistening white sand.
If they got into the half-dug hole and covered themselves with the blanket, they’d have a chance.
Leah dropped down and drew her legs up, pulling K’aalógii in beside her. Just as the helicopters were flying up the backside of the nearest dune, Leah flung the blanket over their bodies.
The ruse would have worked, except that the lead helicopter was flying so low over the sand that the intense rotor blast took the thermal blanket and swept it off, even though Leah was holding it down with all her strength.
Leah didn’t see the second helicopter as it flared and hovered, the sand from the first had blown into her eyes, monetarily blinding her. The sound of the blades cutting air deafened her and the sand whipped up by the rotors abraded the skin on her face.
Leah half covered her eyes and watched as the helicopter landed in the valley between the dunes.
K’aalógii tried to flee, but Leah held her tight. Leah whispered in Navajo that she should not be afraid. It was a mother’s instinct, a mother’s words, useless in the extreme.
It was over.
Crew exited the aircraft and waited. A moment later, Stanton Fischer jumped clear of the helicopter’s door.
To Leah, he didn’t resemble in anyway the arrogant jerk she’d first met with in Antarctica. This man looked beaten, literally and emotionally. His jaw was swollen, blackened, and off-kilter, his lower lip cut and still bleeding. He looked down at the sand as he walked; he wore the emotional exhaustion in huge creases that crisscrossed his face.
Leah looked for the thermal blanket. It had come to rest perhaps fifty feet away. She held K’aalógii’s hand while retrieving the blanket, then wrapped the child.
The excitement of trying to hide from the helicopters had taken its toll. The girl’s eyes were glassy; as her body shut down, she struggled to remain conscious. As soon Leah had her rewrapped in the blanket, she passed out; Leah scooped her up into her weary arms and held her tight.
Fischer stopped when he was about ten feet away. “It’s over, Dr. Andrews.”
“You’re going to have to kill us right here, Fischer. I’m not getting aboard that helicopter.”
Fischer looked momentarily shocked, before regaining his composure. “No, you don’t understand. Your husband has negotiated your release.”
“Bullshit. You’re not getting me that easily.”
Fischer slowly reached into his jacket.
Leah expected to see the black barrel of a handgun pointed at her chest, but when he removed his hand, Fischer was armed only with a sheet of white paper.
“Mr. Hobson said you’d resist. He asked that I give you this.” He walked over and laid the note on the sand five feet in front of Leah, and backed away.
She bent down, keeping her eyes on Fischer the entire time. The note was handwritten in Jack’s unmistakable chicken-scratch:
Leah,
First, I want to let you know that I love you, and that we are safe.
It’s critical you accompany Fischer, as much as I’m sure it pains you.
I’m at the old man’s airport.
Time is short.
Love,
Jackson
She felt the tears flowing down her cheek. Jack hated his given name of Jackson. She used it on occasion, jokingly to get under his skin. It was a sure sign that Jack had sent the note out of his own free will.
Leah wiped at the tears, without much success and then shook her head. “Okay, Fischer let’s go.
Without another word, Fischer turned around and walked back toward the helicopter.
The crew offered to take K’aalógii from her, but Leah refused. She climbed aboard with the child in her arms.
Fischer was preparing to get back aboard the chopper when the crew chief held out his gloved hand. “I’m sorry, sir. The second helo will pick you up and secure the area.”
Fischer looked at Leah, then nodded and stepped back away from the door.
The crew chief spoke into his microphone.
Seconds later, Leah heard the turbine engine spooling up and the helicopter took off. She looked out the opened door, K’aalógii still wrapped in the thermal blanket and held tightly in her arms, and watched Fischer until he became an insignificant black speck on the dune.
Leah looked out a side window and had to smile. The second helicopter, now in tight formation with hers, hadn’t stopped to pick up Fischer at all.
CHAPTER 128