She didn’t dare show herself. If they saw her, then she’d never have time to get the baby into the Desert Runner she’d taken out that night on patrol.
She was in the middle of a nightmare she couldn’t have imagined. Even her deepest, darkest fears didn’t hold anything this horrific.
Demonic yips and howls filled the night with terrifying sounds. They were merely tormenting the little baby, keeping her little heart beating fast and hard, her blood seeping steadily from her wounds.
So much evil. The creatures pushing the child through the night were hellish. Only hell could conceive monsters such as the ones trailing after the child.
Right here, baby. Come on, Louisa, you’re almost safe. Let’s go find Momma . . . She kept her eyes on the child, willing her to come to her, to sense her waiting in the shadows, ready to scoop her up and race her away from this nightmare.
“Momma, help me.” The night carried the hoarse, dazed little voice clearly to where Chelsea hid. “Momma, help me.” Over and over the ragged plea filled Chelsea’s soul with agony and threatened to pierce the layer of ice covering her emotions.
If she let the fear free now, then she’d lose her mind, Chelsea knew. There would be no way to function, to think.
She took her eyes off the child only long enough to check the distance between the enemy and the little girl stumbling through the dark.
The Coyote soldiers were keeping Louisa in sight. If Chelsea just waited, remained out of their field of vision, then she’d have Louisa and be gone before they could get close enough to stop her. Then it would just be a matter of staying ahead of them until she got to safety.
She’d glimpsed their Runner, but she knew hers would be lighter, the motor modified to get an edge on the ones being used by the soldiers. The Breed Underground modified their vehicles for speed rather than defense or heavy weapons. Still, the Coyotes’ Runner would be hard to get away from without a good head start.
It wouldn’t be easy.
Watching the little girl, Chelsea gritted her teeth and made herself wait. Just a little more.
That’s it, Louisa. Come this way. I’m right here, baby.
“Momma. Help me, Momma.” The little voice was so weak, the night so cold, and time was running out.
Holding the blanket she carried ready, Chelsea kept a wary eye on the Coyotes and waited, still, silent. The body-warming technology of the covering would hopefully keep the little girl warm enough and protect her from further chill as they raced through the cold night; the open design of the Runner would do little to stave off the chill.
The Coyotes paused, yips and laughter filling the desert as Louisa headed straight for Chelsea, her dazed eyes staring unseeing into Chelsea through the darkness of night.
She could do this. Louisa was almost in place. Just a little closer.
The kids’ parents were about thirty minutes away, their desert estate well armed as they waited for word of their daughter. Search efforts were being concentrated in the opposite direction; the report of Coyote soldiers closer to Window Rock had drawn searchers there.
It was that odd piece of information Chelsea had collected the day before that placed these creatures closer to Pinon and already had her in the area when the report went out. She was turning around and heading toward Window Rock when she’d heard the Coyotes.
The child stumbled to her knees and Chelsea felt her breath catch. She was so close.
“Come to me, Louisa,” she whispered, a breath of sound she prayed the Coyotes didn’t catch.
Louisa made it to her feet, jerky, uncoordinated, but she made it to the edge of the rock.
Chelsea moved.
Snapping forward, she wrapped the dark blanket around Louisa’s slight body, lifted her into her arms and ran the ten feet to the Runner she’d left on standby. Before she could jump into the Runner, the night went silent. Totally, completely silent. There was no time to secure the little girl into the opposite seat now.
No time.
It had just run out.
As she latched the restraining harness around both of them, the feel of Louisa shuddering and the sound of her gasping breaths filled Chelsea with dread.
Enraged howls filled the night as Chelsea slammed the Runner into gear and the desert vehicle shot forward. The deep tread of the tires bit into dirt, sand and gravel, then all but picked up and flew through the night.
Thirty minutes.
Thirty minutes to the Cerves estate, and she was on her own until she got there. The radio had gone out, refusing to work, but there was also a chance the Coyotes’ Runner was equipped with a jammer. And she wasn’t far enough away from them for her radio to work yet.