She hadn’t gotten enough sleep. She was a pro at taking cat naps. She’d done it since med school. Being an intern could be a sleepless existence. She had learned to sleep under extreme conditions. She just hoped that training helped her survive on so little sleep and the grueling pace they needed to keep to stay ahead of the men hunting them.
* * * * *
“Don’t make a fucking sound.” Something jabbed hard into Trisha’s stomach.
Her eyes flew open and she stared in fear at the hairy man wearing fatigues who stood over her. His shotgun shoved tighter against her waist, digging into her stomach, and his feet were planted wide apart above her. She stared right up between his spread legs and couldn’t miss the fact that he had a tear in the seam of his pants to reveal a section of red underwear.
“Where’s the animal man?”
Trisha met the man’s gaze as her heart began to pound from terror. He means Slade. Obviously the men who’d tried to kill them were definitely anti-New Species. She breathed hard, terrified. He’d shoot her in the gut if he pulled the trigger and that would be a horrible death. If he fired, she hoped he hit major arteries to make her bleed out quickly. With the gun pressed into her skin at that angle, she figured the hole the weapon blast made would finish her off quickly.
“You deaf, bitch? Where is the animal-man?”
“He abandoned me,” she lied. “I slowed him down too much.”
The man leered at her breasts. “Stupid fucking animals. I would have at least fucked you first. Get up slow. You’re the doctor, right?”
She managed a nod despite her shock that he’d know anything about her. “I’m Dr. Trisha Norbit.”
“You a vet or a real doctor?”
“I’m—”
“Doesn’t matter,” he cut her off. “Get your ass up. One of my boys is hurt and it’s your lucky day. Usually we kill traitors of our country but I need you. Guess it don’t matter what kind of doctor you are as long as you know how to set a bone and stitch up the skin.”
Traitor of their country? She gawked at him. The guy was obviously a fanatical freak. Great. She sat up when he pulled the gun a few inches from her shirt and he took another step back. Trisha carefully rose to her feet and put her arms up.
“You got any weapons besides your tits?”
“My…” She stammered and glared at him. “No.”
The man shifted the shotgun, kept it cradled inside the crook of his arm, but trained on her. “Lift your shirt slowly and show me you don’t got a gun hidden in your waistband.”
She did it, pulling her shirt up to her ribs and slowly turned until he could verify she wasn’t armed. She met his gaze when she’d done a full circle. It took a lot of control not to glance around to see if she could spot Slade but she didn’t dare. She prayed he’d see the man with the gun and not walk back to her.
“Let’s go. Bill? Tom? You still got my back?”
“Yes, sir,” a male called out from the left.
“Sure as shit, Sully.” The voice spoke from the right.
Trisha glanced around her but she didn’t see anyone but the man in front of her with the gun. He grinned, revealing yellowed, crooked teeth.
“Some of my boys are with me. We usually travel in packs of four. It will be the last thing animal-man ever does if he decides to save you. He won’t be back for you though unless he gets an itch in his dick.”
Trisha refrained from curling her lip in disgust. He was the lowest form of humanity, in her opinion. From the sound of his voice and the things he said, he honestly thought very little of Slade. He didn’t even know him and it had to be his prejudice against all New Species. He might be a moron but unfortunately he held a gun on her.
“Move it.”
A plan struck Trisha. She took a step and limped badly, dragging her foot a lot, and made a big production of wincing. The man with the gun uttered curse words that made her wince.
“You’re injured? Goddamn it!” He roared the words.
Trisha had to resist smiling at the idiot. He’d been worried she’d make a loud sound but he’d just shouted. Slade would have heard that for sure. Hell, anyone within a mile heard him, she guessed. She bit her lip hard and watched him as she paused limping.
“It happened when you guys caused the SUV to crash.”
He looked furious. “Tom? Get out here.”
Tom probably didn’t have to shave yet from the looks of his pink skin and he had the narrow body of a pre-teen. He stood nearly as short as Trisha’s height of five-foot-three. He gripped a handgun and a large knife had been strapped to his camouflage clothing, making him appear as if he were a twelve-year-old dressed up as an Army guy for Halloween. The faint lines displayed near his mouth were the only signs that gave away his true age, putting him in his mid-twenties.
“Yes, sir?” Tom’s voice came out unusually deep, probably something he did on purpose to sound more masculine. Green eyes fixed on Trisha, lowered to her breasts, and that’s where his attention stayed.She wanted to cross her arms over them but was afraid to move for fear of being shot. The jerk leered at her. She glared at him but he didn’t seem to care since he probably didn’t notice her anger. He wasn’t looking at her face. That would mean he’d have to stop gawking at her breasts.
“How far is Pat from us?”
“A mile, sir.” Tom licked his lips and rubbed his free hand on the top of his thigh. “That the animal lover, sir? Bet she did him.”
“Shut up,” the man in charge ordered. “Look at her. She’s pretty. She isn’t some ugly no-account who can’t find a real man like us. Get on the radio and tell him that we’re coming in slow with her because she’s limping.”
Tom finally dragged his attention from Trisha’s breasts to look at the older man. “Sure thing, Sully.” Tom appeared anything but happy as he disappeared into thick brush.
“Let’s go.”
Trisha remembered their names. Sully. Tom. Bill. She could identify two of them so far if she lived long enough to reach the authorities. She really wanted them arrested. She concentrated on that silent plan as she slowly limped along, purposely dragged her foot, and made a show of nonexistent pain. If she slowed them down it would give Slade more time to get away. He could look for help and send back the police to her.
They mostly traveled downhill. She stumbled a few times but Sully never lifted a finger to help her. He kept the gun trained on her, followed close behind, and didn’t say a word. Trisha guessed that if Slade didn’t get her help she probably wouldn’t be alive much longer than the time it took for her to patch up the injured man. They’d probably shoot her the way they had Bart when they no longer had a use for her.
They left the thick brush finally and she spotted a clearing with a tent set up and the fresh remains of a small fire. Trisha smelled food and her stomach rumbled. A coffeepot sat in the dead ashes of the crude fire pit they’d built with stones in a circle. Trisha paused, turned her head, and met Sully’s mud-brown eyes.
“He’s inside the tent so get your ass in there and help him. Pat, we’re here and the doctor is coming in. Don’t go blowing her brains out before she can tend you.”
Trisha limped toward the tent but nearly screamed in real pain when a fist grabbed her hair from behind and yanked her body back. She stumbled and collapsed to her knees, forcing Sully to release her. Tears blinded her for seconds as she grabbed the back of her head, guessing he’d torn out some of her hair. She looked at Sully in shock when she could see him past the tears.
He had his gun pointed at the tent. “Pat? Call out now.”
Trisha shifted her attention to the tent when no one answered. The tent door had been zipped closed. Sully inched forward and leaned down. He unzipped the tent flaps and jumped back, shotgun pointed inside as he eased back a little more.
“Pat? I want you to call out now.”
Silence.
“Bill? Tom? Call out now,” Sully roared.
“Here, sir,” Tom yelled. He stepped out of the woods about twenty feet from where Trisha and Sully were.
Another man, in his forties, balding, with a pot belly, stepped out from the woods across the camp. Trisha guessed that had to be Bill. He nodded at Sully. The three men glared at the tent. Sully nodded to Tom and jerked his head at the tent, keeping his shotgun trained on the opening.
Tom moved forward, shoved his handgun into his shoulder holster, and unfastened the large hunting knife on his thigh. He gripped it firmly and crouched to the side of the tent. He reached out with his left hand and jerked up the zipper, opening the flap to peer inside.
“He’s gone.” Tom gasped.
“Didn’t you raise him on the radio?” Sully sounded pissed.
“No, sir. He didn’t answer. I thought maybe he was sleeping or taking a shit. He can still get around pretty good even with his arm all busted.”
Sully spun to point his gun at Trisha. “When did the animal abandon you?”
She swallowed. “He took off sometime during the night. I fell asleep with him there but when I woke right before the sun rose he’d abandoned me.”
“He’s far from here.” Bill had a deep voice with an accent that hinted at him being Texan or maybe Southern. It was hard to nail down. “As soon as he stopped carrying her he would have taken off like the wind. They can move, Sully. He’s probably put ten miles on us by now. Another team will get him for sure though.”