"I guess it wasn't very smart," Selena said, looking contrite. Carter caught her glancing at him from the corner of her eye. She was enjoying it, playing the dumb blonde.
"I guess you'd like a glass of something," Shotgun Man said. He lowered the shotgun all the way. The dog stopped growling and began to look interested instead of threatening. "Come on upstairs. This will be a hell of a story to tell down at the It'll Do."
Shotgun Man's name was Ed. He offered a shot of Crown Royal and a lift back to the house. Nick figured that whoever threw the grenade would be long gone and would have cleaned up the carnage. He wasn't worried about stumbling over a couple of dead bodies.
They climbed into Ed's pickup. Ten minutes later they stood on the front porch of the house. There was no sign of the shooters. Nick's watch showed midnight.
Ed drove off with a promise from Selena that he could come back with his metal detector and search the town site. They watched his taillights disappear. High overhead in the warm, June night, an airplane left a long, silver trail across the star-filled sky. A soft breeze carried the sound of crickets singing to each other.
"Feels good to have all that space above you, doesn't it?"
"I didn't think we were going to get out of there," she said.
"The spiders got to me."
"And the rats. Don't forget the rats."
She turned to him and wrapped her arms around him. He held her for a long moment, felt the warmth of her body in the cool night air.
"Let's go inside."
Selena turned on the lights. The contents of her purse were scattered on the floor and the couch. The back door was open where they'd run for it.
Selena gathered her things back together. Nick called Harker. It was three in the morning on the East Coast. The day's events were enough reason to wake her up.
Harker picked up her phone. Her voice was thick with sleep.
"It better be good, Nick." She coughed.
"You might say that. We have the book."
He filled her in on what had happened. There was a long pause.
"I'll get a cleanup team out there to process the place. No sign of the shooters?"
"It's dark out, so I can't look for bodies, but no, no sign. My guess is whoever threw the grenade took the others with him. He was in the house and got into Selena's purse, so he knows who she is and where she lives. But after that cave in, they have to think we're both dead."
"This local man, you think he suspects any of this?"
"No. He just thinks we're dumb, exploring old mines. I told him we'd reimburse him for damages, he's fine with it. I don't see any problems. Maybe another contribution to local bar lore."
"Grenades and Uzis mean serious backing. Did you get a good look at any of them?"
"I'm pretty sure they were Chinese. The big one is ugly as hell. I'd recognize him if I saw him again."
"Maybe the Bureau can help."
"If Ugly has anything to do with Wu, they might have a shot of him."
"I'll see what they've got. There have to be more photos than the ones they gave us. What's your plan now?"
"I haven't thought about it. Get some sleep, I guess."
"How's Selena?"
"She's fine."
"Tell her she is now under Federal protection and direction regarding her activities."
"Yes, Director."
"And Nick…I'm glad you both made it out safe."
She hung up.
Carter turned to where Selena was sitting on the couch, exhausted, beat up, filthy with mine dirt. She looked a little rough around the edges. He wanted to hold her. He wanted to do more than that. It had been a long time since he'd wanted to hold any woman.
"The Director said you're now under Federal protection. It means the government will be controlling your life for a while, what you can and can't do. It's the trade off."
Selena nodded, a gesture of resignation.
"Harker's sending a team to check this place out," he said. "What do you want to do?"
"I want to get cleaned up and sleep. But I don't want to stay here."
"I've got a place not far away. Why don't we go there? I can sleep on the couch."
She considered a moment, gave him a thoughtful look.
"Sounds better than a motel. You have a shower or a bathtub?"
"I do."
"Let's go."
She got up, took the book and her purse, turned everything off and locked up. Carter opened the passenger door for her. The glove box was open and he hadn't left it that way. The insurance slip was gone. He closed the glove compartment without mentioning his thoughts to Selena. The address on the slip was a P.O. Box, so they didn't have a physical location yet. They were safe for the moment.
In less than an hour they pulled up at the cabin.
While Selena cleaned up he got the book and placed it in a gun safe at the back of the bedroom closet. He sat down and leaned back on the couch, waiting for her to finish, and closed his eyes. What a day, he thought. Why were these people so anxious to get the book? He fell asleep.
He dreamed.
He was running in a twilight land, with something close behind. He ran through a bleak landscape with high mountains and large black animals in a rocky field. The sky was sickly yellow and there was a bad smell in the air.
He heard a helicopter. He was looking for Selena, but couldn't find her. He saw a cave in the side of a mountain and then he was inside. A dark figure dressed in a long robe stood in the shadows and watched him. The figure held something white in his right hand. There was a flash of light and rocks began falling. He was going to be buried alive.
Then he was standing in a crowd of people with Megan. He was naked, exposed. He was looking for his clothes.
"I don't know where my socks are."
"It's all right, Nick. But you need your parachute."
Then he was dressed and they were standing on a beach, looking out at the Golden Gate Bridge
"I love you," he said.
"I love you, too, but I have to go. Aren't the mountains beautiful?"
Towering, snow-capped mountains were right up against the bay behind the bridge. Somehow it made sense in the dream.
Then the sky turned dark and a cold wind began whipping up whitecaps on the bay. Megan was gone.
He woke stretched out on the couch under a blanket. Everything ached. The dream stuck in his mind. At least it wasn't the Afghan village again. At least it wasn't that kid again.
Carter's Irish Grandmother sometimes dreamed of things to come. He'd inherited the ability from her, a psychic quirk that opened doors he wished would stay closed. The dreams always foreshadowed something that hadn't happened yet. It was never anything pleasant. She'd called it a gift. He thought it a curse.
This dream was one of those, but he couldn't figure out what it meant. Those black animals weren't cows, or anything like that. If it was like the other dreams he wouldn't know what it meant until he ran into it headfirst.
Chapter Eighteen
Selena had dressed in black running shorts with yellow stripes down the sides, a yellow sport bra with a black Nike swoosh on it and running shoes. A bright yellow headband kept the hair off her forehead. The only signs of yesterday were the shadows under her eyes and the scratches on her face.
The outfit showed off her trim body. "Good morning," she said. "How are you feeling? Want some coffee?"
"Morning. Yeah, coffee's good. I feel like I went ten rounds with the wrong guy."
She brought him a cup. Black and hot.
"I thought I'd go for a run and work out some of that mine."