Midnight Rainbow by Linda Howard Read Free Book Online Page B

her
with a quick grab. She gave him a tired smile of thanks, but when she tried to
step away from him he held her. He stood rigid and it frightened her. She
jerked around to look at him, but his face was a cold, blank mask, and he was
staring behind her. She whirled again, and looked down the barrel of a rifle.
                  The sweat congealed on her body. For one
moment of frozen terror she expected to be shot; then the moment passed and she
was still alive. She was able then to look past the barrel to the hard, dark
face of the soldier who held the rifle. His black eyes were narrowed, fastened
on Sullivan. He said something, but Jane was too upset to translate the
Spanish.
                  Slowly, deliberately, Sullivan released Jane
and raised his arms, clasping his hands on top of his head.
                  "Step away from me," he said
quietly.
                  The soldier barked an order at him. Jane's
eyes widened. If she moved an inch this maniac would probably shoot her down.
But Sullivan had told her to move, so she moved, her face so white that the
small freckles across her nose stood out as bright dots of color. The rifle
barrel jerked in her direction, and the soldier said something else. He was
nervous, Jane suddenly realized. The tension was obvious in his voice, in his
jerky movements. God, if his finger twitched on the trigger…! Then, just as
abruptly, he aimed the rifle at Sullivan again.
                  Sullivan was going to do something. She could
sense it. The fool! He'd get himself killed if he tried to jump this guy! She
stared at the soldier's shaking hands on the rifle, and suddenly something
jumped into her consciousness. He didn't have the rifle on automatic. It took
her another moment to realize the implications; then she reacted without
thought. Her body, trained to dance, trained in the graceful moves of
self-defense, went into fluid motion. He began moving a split second later,
swinging the weapon around, but by then she was close enough that her left foot
sliced upward under the barrel of the gun, and the shot that he fired went into
the canopy over their heads. He never got a chance at another shot. Grant was
on him then, grabbing the gun with one hand and slashing at the man's unprotected
neck with the side of the other. The soldier's eyes glazed over, and he sank
limply to the ground, his breathing raspy but steady.
                  Grant grabbed Jane's arm. "Run! That shot
will bring every one of them swarming down on us!" The urgency of his tone
made it possible for her to obey, though she was rapidly depleting her reserves
of energy. Her legs were leaden, and her boots weighed fifty pounds each.
Burning agony slashed her thighs, but she forced herself to ignore it; sore
muscles weren't nearly as permanent as being dead. Urged on by his hand at her
back, she stumbled over roots and through bushes, adding to her collection of
scratches. It was purely a natural defense mechanism, but her mind shut down
and her body operated automatically, her feet moving, her lungs sucking
desperately at the heavy, moist air. She was so tired now that she no longer
felt the pain in her body.
                  The ground abruptly sloped out from under her
feet. Her senses dulled by both terror and fatigue, she was unable to regain
her balance. Grant grabbed for her, but the momentum of her body carried them
both over the edge of the hill. His arms wrapped around her, and they rolled
down the steep slope. The earth and trees spun crazily, but she saw a rocky,
shallow stream at the bottom of the slope and a small, hoarse cry tore from her
throat. Some of those rocks were big enough to kill them and the smaller ones
could cut them to pieces.
                  Grant swore, and tightened his grip on her
until she thought her ribs would splinter under the pressure. She felt his
muscles tighten, felt the desperate twist he made, and