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Charlie snorted. "You said a mouthful."
"Let's hope the stampede drives 'em all inside. If it does, we shouldn't have to worry about snipers. Charlie, if there are any, they're your responsibility."
"Right."
"Collins, I'm more experienced at this than you are. Cover my back and shoot anything that shoots back."
"Got it."
"Good. If anybody screws up," he added cheerfully, "then probably we all die. Including the hostages."
Nobody said anything.
Logan sent the truck full tilt after the stampeding mammoth herd. He gri
Charlie gave one snort of laughter. "Lunatic."
"That's what they tell me."
Collins just grunted.
Up ahead, the shaggy brown wall parted. The stampede flowed around a low, squat obstacle. The glare of headlights picked out a dingy concrete-slab structure. Logan laughed out loud, earning dour glances from Charlie and from Collins. He waggled his eyebrows and laughed again. He hadn't felt this good since the early days in Ethiopia.
"Hold onto your butts, gentlemen. Here goes nothing."
Chapter Twenty
Francisco was just about to call the others for di
"Major Valdez? What's that sound? I can feel it right through the floor."
He listened. "I don't know. I can't hear any—" Francisco paused. There was a sound. Low, rumbling, like... thunder? Somebody else coming through?
The outer door slammed open with a blast of icy air. Joey yelled, "Stampede!"
Nelson roared to his feet. "What?"
"Mammoths! Crazy, stupid elephants are headed right for us!"
Nelson swore. "What spooked them? Doc, you and the kid, get into the back. Now."
"Come on, Da
Nelson herded them into the makeshift sickroom. "Bill," Nelson growled, "you're in no shape, but Joey and I are go
Nelson dragged him into a sitting position against the wall. Bill groaned. The pistol Nelson gave him shook in his hands.
Mother of— Nelson's a fool. Bill can't even see us without double images. He'll blow a hole through one of us by accident.
Francisco edged his way between the concussed guard and the women. Da
"Don't nobody move," Bill groaned. "Sit."
Francisco said quietly, "Lucille, I want you and Janet and Sibyl to sit in that corner over there. Janet, take Zac with you."
They moved. Bill squinted at them, evidently trying to decide which of the double images he was seeing was the ghost and which was real.
"Da
He obeyed. That got the women, Zac, and Da
"Siddown," Bill muttered.
He sat. On the floor between Bill and the others.
Then he just waited and listened. The rumble grew into a thundering wall of sound. Occasional blasts from trumpeting mammoths reminded him of old Tarzan movies. The floor shook. His medical bag vibrated on one of the cots.
The stampede swamped across them. Francisco braced. He realized he was waiting for something to crash right into the building. The door slammed open, causing him to jump. Bill fumbled the pistol on his lap, then regained control of it. Nelson and Joey retreated into the shelter in white-faced terror. Francisco caught a glimpse of massive shapes moving in the near-darkness outside.
Then the rumbling stampede was past.
For an instant, Francisco's ears registered another, incongruously loud sound in the darkness.
Nelson blinked—
A low, black shape hurtled in through the partially open doorway. It opened fire. Bill yelled and started shooting wildly. Somebody screamed. Francisco launched toward Bill and his gun. Hot pain flashed through his ribs. A brutal kick caught his side. Then he was grappling with Bill. Gunshots ripped through the main room.
Lucille screamed, "Janet!"
Bill's fingers tightened down across the trigger. Five shots blasted out of the muzzle. A shrill scream cut off behind him. Francisco twisted. He rammed an elbow into the guard's face. Bone crunched with a shocking sound. Francisco smashed his elbow into Bill's nose again and again. The bastard finally went limp.
It's over.... Relief swept through him, followed instantly by intense, gut-churning nausea. Francisco retched, then tried unadvisedly to get up. He retched again, bringing up clear fluid. C'mon, doctor, someone was hit, got to find out what's happened.... He sagged forward, instead, and fought the topsy-turvy rebellion in his gut. Wet, sticky pain clogged his side. Dimly, he saw Da
"Da
Something dark loomed above him.
"Don't move!"
The voice was male, angry, scared...
Francisco couldn't have moved, even if he'd wanted. So he didn't. Whoever it was, they rolled him onto his back. An involuntary cry broke from his lips. Then he blinked groggily up at Dan Collins.
"Dan..."
"Frank?"
From across the room came a single, explosive syllable.
"DAD!"
Dan vanished from view.
Francisco tried to lever himself onto one elbow. Vertigo seized him, but the room steadied down after a moment. The sight that greeted him left Francisco cold. Janet Firelli lay sprawled against the base of the wall. Lucille was down, too, dead or unconscious. Da
Francisco grunted against pain and dragged himself up. "Dan—give me a hand—"
Dan Collins' face was ashen. His friend hauled him bodily across the room, without regard for his cry of pain.
"She's alive, Frank, she's still alive... ." Tears clogged his voice.
"Gimme the kit." His hands were badly unsteady.
"Janet?"
Her voice, whispery soft, said, "I'm okay. Just winged me, is all, nothing but a scratch. Lucille's hurt bad."
A bullet had struck Lucille high in the chest. The exit wound had missed her spine by an inch. The bullet had dislocated her shoulder blade two inches outward. Massive tissue damage in there. Clean it out, Francisco. You've got to pull your shit together, right now, or you'll lose her.
Francisco's hands were so unsteady he couldn't even hold a swab. Pain rushed through him, receded like the waves at Malibu, crashed back stronger than before. His own pulse was racing, unsteady. Shock, he self-diagnosed, blood loss...
From out of the grey fog surrounding him, Sibyl Johnson said steadily, "Let me." She pulled the swab out of nerveless fingers, then swore under her breath. The next moment, she'd wrapped something tight around his torso to control bleeding down his side. "Dammit, don't faint on us! Tell me what to do."
Francisco shut his eyes, fighting darkness. "Dan, get the hell out of here. Sibyl, get an alcohol prep..."
Under Francisco's guidance, Sibyl cleaned around both wounds, then taped down plastic to create an airtight seal in case she'd punctured a lung. Without X-ray equipment or ultrasound it was impossible to determine the full extent of damage and cracking her open under these conditions would kill her.
"Turn her onto her side, no, so the gunshot wounds are down," Francisco instructed, trying awkwardly to help. "If she's bleeding into a lung, she'll fill up both lungs with blood if you turn the other way. Can't do a damn thing about that dislocated bone... . Going to hurt like a mother. Don't want to hit her with a painkiller yet, not while she's unconscious." Sibyl dragged a blanket up across her. "Good, that's the best we can do." He clutched the edge of the cot, fighting the need to faint. "Now start an IV; she's in shock, her electrolytes will be messed up something terrible."