Выбрать главу

Gremlin’s labored breaths were close on his heels, just yards behind him.

Now!

Blade spun, the M-16 held waist high, and began firing before he completed his turn.

Gremlin, only four yards away, was caught by surprise. Several of the slugs caught him and lifted him off his feet. He fell to one side, landing partially in the cold waters of Flathead Lake.

Blade ceased firing and cautiously approached the creature. He felt a twinge of guilt at killing it. Gremlin wasn’t responsible for his actions.

They were controlled by the Doktor.

Was it really dead?

Blade paused, his moccasins inches from the water, and leaned over for a better look.

Gremlin surged out of the lake in a raging rush, hissing, his clawing hands grasping Blade’s shoulders and pulling him off balance, toppling him forward into Flathead Lake.

Damn!

Blade released the useless M-16 and struggled against Gremlin’s iron grip. Was the thing trying to drown him? The water closed over his head as Gremlin drew him under the surface.

Gremlin’s clammy hands slid from his shoulders to his neck.

Blade thrashed and struck at the creature’s face, to no avail. The water impaired his strength and reduced the effectiveness of his powerful blows.

They tossed and twisted and alternately rose above the surface as they rolled into ever deeper water.

Blade took a deep breath and went under for the fifth time, trying to dislodge Gremlin’s hands from his throat. How could something so skinny be so strong? What could he do to hurt it? Angier’s words came back to him. “If the collar senses someone is trying to take it off, there’s a crackling and a burst of white light and the creature’s head is fried to a crisp.”

It was his only real chance.

Blade kneed Gremlin in the groin, gratified when he doubled over and his hold slackened slightly. In that instant, Blade clasped the collar in both of his brawny hands and exerted his formidable muscles, striving to pry the collar apart.

He was completely unprepared for what transpired next.

His hands and arms began tingling, and before he could release the collar, as Gremlin reached for his arms, there was a loud popping noise and the water in their immediate proximity was illuminated by a brilliant white flash.

Blade jerked as a tremendous shock jolted his body, propelling him away from Gremlin and toward the beach. His senses swirled as he staggered from the lake, gasping for air, and fell to his hands and knees.

Damn.

So much for his bright ideas.

He passed out on the rock-littered shore.

Chapter Eighteen

“Mommy, I think Geronimo is waking up.”

“Good.”

“Not good! You should have let me finish the creep off!”

Geronimo kept his eyes closed, listening to the conversation. A throbbing headache racked his forehead, and his left side was a pool of agony. He experienced the sensation of moving.

“All in good time.” The voice was Rainbow’s.

“Why not now?” an angry male demanded.

“I told you before,” Rainbow responded impatiently, “we need him for now. He knows this vehicle better than we do. We might need some of his knowledge.”

“But the bastard wasted Spotted Elk and Buffalo Grazing! We should kill him now! He deserves it!” the irate man urged.

“Are you disputing me?” Rainbow asked icily.

“No,” the man hedged. “Of course not. It’s just…” he said, and let the thought trail off.

Geronimo opened his brown eyes and slowly gazed around. He was inside the SEAL, propped in a corner of the back seat, behind the driver.

His shirt was gone. It had been used to construct a crude bandage for his left shoulder. Star was seated beside him, and a tall Flathead sat on the other side of her. Another Indian, the angry speaker, was in the passenger-side bucket seat. Rainbow was behind the wheel.

“He’s awake,” Star announced, smiling at Geronimo. Her features became downcast when he refused to reciprocate.

“Welcome back to the land of the living,” Rainbow said, greeting him cheerily, glancing into the mirror.

Geronimo heard a scratching sound and twisted his head.

Another Flathead was in the rear section of the transport, lying amidst the equipment salvaged from the Kalispell Regional Hospital. At least they hadn’t tossed it out. Yet.

“How are you feeling?” Rainbow inquired.

Geronimo watched the scenery pass by. From the position of the sun, he knew they were bearing in a southeasterly direction.

“I asked you how you’re feeling?” Rainbow reiterated.

“Do you make it a practice of specializing in stupidity, or is a natural knack you have?” Geronimo said, goading her.

“Let me smash him!” the one in the passenger seat heatedly requested.

He was short in stature and had a ragged scar on his chin.

“Do you see what you’ve done?” Rainbow said to Geronimo. “Now you’ve got Lone Cougar all upset.”

“Pardon me all to hell,” Geronimo retorted.

“Be nice,” Rainbow warned, “or I’ll let Lone Cougar have you.” She paused and tapped the steering wheel. “What do you think of my driving?”

“I’m impressed,” Geronimo admitted. “I had no idea you could drive.”

“I couldn’t,” Rainbow stated. “But I’m a fast learner, and I had plenty of time to watch Blade on the trip to Kalispell. It’s a lot easier than I expected.”

“Mind if I ask where we’re heading?” Geronimo queried.

“Not at all,” Rainbow answered. “The Citadel.”

Geronimo sat erect, forgetting his wound, the motion aggravating the discomfort. “You can’t be serious!”

Rainbow laughed. “But I am.”

“Why are you going there?” Geronimo demanded. “It’s suicide.”

“Oh, we’ll take good care of your vehicle, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Rainbow said. “I need to find out what happened to my people, and this is the fastest way to get us there.”

“Is that the reason you shot me?” Geronimo needed to know.

“Of course.” Rainbow slowly negotiated a curve. The road was sandwiched between rolling hills of pine forest. “Nothing personal, you understand.” She grinned.

“I’m really sorry my mother shot you,” Star chimed in sorrowfully. “I didn’t want her to do it. I like you a lot, Geronimo.”

“Don’t get to liking him too much, little one,” Lone Cougar told her. “He won’t be with us much longer.”

“That’s enough!” Rainbow snapped. “I don’t want you upsetting my daughter!”

“Your wish is my command,” Lone Cougar stated, somewhat sarcastically.

“Be respectful when you talk to her!” the Flathead on the other side of Star barked.

Lone Cougar glanced at the speaker, amused. “Why, Tall Oak, you know I mean no disrespect. It is bad form to treat the wife of a chief with anything less than total sincerity.”

“The wife of a chief?” Geronimo repeated, surprised.

“She didn’t tell you?” Lone Cougar asked, feigning amazement. “She’s so proud of the fact, I thought she told everyone.”

Geronimo saw Rainbow glare at Lone Cougar. If looks could kill, Lone Cougar would be Skewered Pussycat.

“Rainbow is the wife of Golden Bull, the chief of all the Flatheads,” Lone Cougar was saying.

Golden Bull. Lone Cougar. Tall Oak. “I take it the Flatheads don’t use names like George and Fred anymore?” Geronimo asked.

“We have reverted to the practice of our illustrious ancestors,” Rainbow stated proudly. “Our parents name their children after natural things, or something they might see in a vision, or a special omen.”