The Edge

Chapter Twenty-Three

There were mountains in the distance, their tops shrouded with clouds.

There was no sign of people, of any habitation at all. We'd stepped out of a green world filled with more creatures than anywhere else on the planet into desert terrain. The sun dried our clothes in less than fifteen minutes. It also made us thirstier than hell.

"We need water," Laura said. "Then some shelter." She pointed toward a copse of trees not too far away. The copse was on a small hill. From there we might see some sign of life, perhaps even the compound.

"Listen," Laura said. She pointed up. Above, a small plane was coming closer.

It was then I saw the empty airstrip a few hundred yards from where we stood. A four-seat Cessna was coming in.

We ran back into the rain forest until we heard the plane land, then slowly eased out on our bellies. We could barely make out three people getting off the plane, walking to a jeep, and getting in. Men or women, we couldn't be sure. The jeep drove off, due east from the airstrip.

To my disappointment, the Cessna was in the air and gone beyond the mountains in a matter of minutes.

"I wish," Laura said, "that the plane had hung around. We could have persuaded the pilot to get us out of here."

"All we need is Savich," I said. "He's got a license. He can fly anything."

Laura and I walked slowly out of the rain forest again. The dry air felt wonderful on my face. I saw Laura raise her face to the baking sun high overhead.

"It's around midafternoon," I said. "At least four and a half hours until it gets dark."

"We can scout around, try to see the best way to get back into the compound."

"I'm hungry," I said, and rubbed my fist against my belly. My hand stopped. I saw her eyes follow my hand, then widen with alarm. Coming from nowhere, just suddenly upon me, I felt a bolt of incredible lust. I was almost instantly as hard as the rocks I was standing on. Jesus, I was losing it. Laura was staring at me.

"Mac, what's wrong?"

I grabbed her, flattened my hand over her mouth, and said in a raw voice, "Laura, there's time for us to make love. Let's do it right here, right now. I've got to-"

"Mac, stop it!"

I heard her voice, but what she said made no difference. There was only one thing I wanted, only one thing I was going to do. I was trying to pull her shirt off and unzip my pants at the same time. I didn't even think about touching her, no, I just had to get inside her, right that instant. She twisted away from me.

I grabbed a moment of reason and choked out, "It's hit me again, Laura. I don't know if I can control it.

I'll hurt you. Get the hell out of here, now. Run!" "Mac, you can control it, you did it before!" "Please, Laura." I was on her again, knocking her backward. She hit a tree but didn't fall. Instead of running, she stepped forward and kicked me in the balls. My breath whooshed out. The pain blanked anything in my brain. And I stood there, bent over like an old man, knowing the pain was going to get worse, much worse. And it did. I moaned, clutched myself, and folded over. I waited for the god-awful agony to lessen. I simply tried to breathe and not fall on the ground and weep like a baby. Laura was standing not three feet in front of me, not saying a word.

"Good shot," I said when I could get the words out. Neither of us moved. I just stood there, still hunkered over, trying to get hold of myself.

"It's not so bad now, thank God," I said, slowly straightening. "Jesus, I can't believe a drug can do that.

You feel like an animal in pain, and just have to get out of it. You might have had to kill me to stop me if you weren't so smart. You knocked every thought, every urge, out of my brain."

"I didn't know what else to do. You sure you're all right, Mac?"

"You don't have to kick me again, at least for the moment. I'm back together again. It was just there for a moment that I wanted sex more than I wanted life. Hell, I thought having sex at that very moment was life. How can there be people who would pay for this drug?"

She lightly touched her fingertips to my mouth. "Just let me know if I have to kick you again."

"I don't think so," I said slowly. We sat down and leaned against a scrubby tree I couldn't identify. It gave about as much shade as a single leaf on one of the trees I couldn't identify in the rain forest.

"They didn't kill us, Mac. They brought us down here and they haven't done anything but play with us, ugly games, but no torture. Drug dealers don't do that. Drug dealers eliminate anyone they perceive as a threat to their operation. When they fired on us at Seagull Cottage, they weren't trying to kill us. They just wanted us under wraps, inside the cottage, so they could use the ice acid and bring us to wherever we are."

"Maybe they took us because they wanted guinea pigs for the drug."

"They can pull people off the street to experiment on. They wouldn't take four federal agents to do that."

She took my hand. "I know this is tough, Mac. But someone gave them orders not to kill us. The only person I can think of who cares whether or not you live or die is Jilly. If you weren't involved, I think we'd be dead."

"No," I said. "It had to be Paul. He gave the order because he knew how much Jilly would be hurt if I was killed."

She swatted an insect off her knee. "I'm sorry, Mac. But you've got to think objectively about this. Four federal agents are in Edgerton, Oregon. Things are getting too hot. It's Jilly, Paul, Molinas, and Tarcher whose butts are on the line. They've got to buy some time so they can shut things down and clear out before the cops come to get them. There's another guy I told you a little about: Del Cabrizo, the head of the Maille cartel. We believe he's the kingpin behind the development of this drug. John Molinas is just one of his flunkies. He probably used Molinas just to get to Tarcher and to Jilly and Paul.

As to Alyssum Tarcher's exact role, I'd say he cut himself in by getting Paul and Jilly out to Edgerton.

"But I do know that Jilly is the only one who has the power to keep us alive. She's the only one with the leverage. We're kept alive or the problems getting the drug ready for the streets won't get solved.

"She left the hospital to get away from you, Mac. She knew you wouldn't stop pushing. She had no choice but to leave and hide out, and hope you just went home."

"My sister, no matter whatever else she possibly could have done, wouldn't drug me and set me over you like a dog in heat. She hates you because you betrayed her, not me."

"Jilly doesn't have a clue what they'd do to us. She's in Oregon, not here. But I'll tell you, Mac, she knows what kind of people they are. She had to have guessed they wouldn't treat us as valued guests."

She knew I didn't want to hear this. Bless her, she didn't say anything more about Jilly's role in all this mess. She knew I'd think about it.

"Who is that bald man in the compound?" I asked.

"I've been thinking about that. From your description, I'd say it has to be John Molinas. In the photo I saw of him he had a lot of thick black hair."

"I guess he thinks the shaved head is more intimidating."

Laura said, "If it is Molinas, I think he's here to make sure no one kills us. Maybe Jilly demanded insurance, insisted he be here to run the show. She wanted to make sure that Del Cabrizo wouldn't just have our throats cut. Maybe it was her way to protect you."

I rested my head on my crossed arms. I felt a huge wave of fatigue wash over me. No sex in this, no prodding lust, just sudden, utter exhaustion. "Laura," I said, trying to raise my head. "Laura, what the hell am I feeling now?"

I heard her voice, thin, far away, calling my name. I tried to look up but I didn't have the strength to lift my head. I clearly saw the terrorists in Tunisia, heard their voices, wondered if I would ever escape this mess alive, then there was the car, driving toward us, only there was no driver, and then it was a ball of flame and I was gone. Unholy fear ate into me. It seemed stronger, more corrosive now than when it had actually happened.

It was the effect of the damned drug again, I thought, but it didn't make any difference. The sun grew hotter, the air even drier. The heat was inside me, filling me. There was desolation everywhere and I was part of it. I had flown to the sun and fallen in.

"Mac!"

Laura's voice was high, terrified.

I tried to look at her, but her face blurred, then faded into a strange sort of gray whiteness that seemed endless and cold, but it wasn't any of those things, and on some level I knew it. I just didn't know what it was, and I didn't care.

I was floating now, and it was very strange to be staring down at a large man, and I knew the man was me, only he was just lying there, his eyes closed, his chest heaving with the effort to breathe. Then I knew he was me because suddenly I couldn't breathe. I was dying.

Then there wasn't any more pain, just a gray-white void that didn't go anywhere. I was cold. That made sense, I was naked. I wanted covers but couldn't seem to move my arms.

I felt fingers on my forearm, soft fingers, loving fingers, fingers so gentle I wanted to see who they belonged to. It became more than that. I had to know who was touching me like that. I forced my eyes open, forced myself to look through the gray-white, to find the person whose fingers were so gentle, so tender.

I saw Jilly standing over me, looking both frightened and angry. Why would she be frightened? Or angry?

It made no sense at all. I had to know. I concentrated with everything in me and whispered, "Jilly? You're all right. Thank God. I've been so worried about you. Why are we here, Jilly? Where are we?"

She just smiled down at me and lightly touched her fingertips to my cheek. "It'll be all right, Ford. Listen to me now. You're coming out of it, very soon now. No, keep your eyes open, Ford, listen to me. You mustn't drink or eat anything. Do you understand me? Don't even drink out of the tap. Nothing."

"Laura, Jilly? Where is she?"

"It will be all right, Ford. Laura's here. Get strong, Ford. Just lie still and get strong."

And then her fingers left my arm. When I looked up, she was gone. The gray-white void thickened around me until I disappeared into it, just eased into it and let it swallow me. I wondered why I wasn't cold any longer.

I opened my eyes and realized that no one was standing over me. I felt clearheaded, but so hungry I could have eaten just about anything. I shook my head. What had happened? "Laura?"

I saw her lying on her side on a folded blanket on the floor beside the bed I was lying on. She was naked, just like I was. I was down on the floor next to her in an instant, panicked. "Laura?" I lightly pressed my fingers against the pulse in her throat. It was strong and steady.

I knelt over her, wondering what the hell to do, then wondering where we were. Something was very wrong here but I just didn't get it yet. I lightly stroked my hand over her shoulder and turned her onto her back.

"Laura," I said again, and leaned down to kiss her mouth. Her lips were dry. She was so pale. "Laura," I said, and watched her eyes slowly open.

I saw the scream in her eyes and quickly pressed my palm against her mouth. "No, be quiet. I don't know what's going on here yet. Are you all right?"

She looked confused, her brows drawn together. Her long hair was in tangles around her head. "Mac," she said at last, and her voice sounded beautiful to me.

"It's all right, sweetheart. We're both alive. I just don't know where or why. Somebody stripped both of us naked."

She didn't move, didn't try to cover herself. I saw her draw in a deep breath and knew she was searching for control, for something to latch onto, something that made sense.

"I saw a man, standing behind you. He was just there, suddenly. I never heard him coming. And he sprayed something at me. Before I went out, I saw him strike you on the back of your head. I don't remember anything else. I want to get up now, Mac."

I gave her my hand. She was looking at me and I realized that I was hard again. I was embarrassed and frightened as hell. Pain was one thing, but not knowing what was real and what wasn't, that was beyond anything I'd ever experienced in my life. God, I hated it.

I turned away from her, grabbed a blanket off the bed, and wrapped it around my waist. There was only a dingy sheet for Laura. I pulled it off the small bed and handed it to her. She wrapped it around herself, tucking in the ends over her breasts.

She sat beside me on the bed. "I'm dying of thirst," she said, not looking at me but down at her bare feet.

I said without thinking, "We're not going to drink anything at all. Not even tap water." "Why?"

I turned to face her. I lifted her hand and held it between mine. She leaned forward until her cheek was touching my shoulder.

"Listen, Laura. Jilly came to see me. She's here. She seemed upset. She told me not to eat or drink anything."

"Jilly, here? But when could you have seen her, Mac?"

"I don't know but it makes as much sense as you and me being here, wherever here is."

"It means she is involved," Laura said finally. "You see that now, don't you, Mac? If she was really here, with you, then she's in on all of this, somehow." "Yes, I know," I said. "They've got us again, haven't they? What are we going to do?"

But how did they have us again? They just walked up to us and turned off the lights? What was going on here? Was it all somehow planned with a drug whose effects diminished, then came roaring back?

I stood and began pacing the twelve-by-twelve room. "We've got to find Sherlock and Savich," I said over my shoulder. "We know they're real."

It was odd but even though I was walking around and speaking to Laura, I knew that somewhere inside my brain something still wasn't right. I remembered reliving that horrible few moments in Tunisia, how it had somehow been magnified.

I looked over at the tap in the small sink. Neither of us was going to touch another drop of water, at least not in this place.