When Sydney finally came to and struggled to clear the cobwebs out of her mind, she became acutely aware of three things: intense pain, insane thirst, and a chattering noise she couldn't quite place. She slowly sat up and looked around, trying to get her bearings. She had been hidden from view in tall weeds under a piece of sheet metal leaning against a brick building. It took her a moment to remember what happened. She recalled walking up the steps to her back porch, opening her kitchen door, and then all hell had broken loose. She pushed the sheet metal away, scaring the rat that had been the source of the chattering noise. Syd jumped. The sudden movement reminded her again of the piercing pain in her head and in her side. Dear God, what happened to her?
But pain was a good thing. It meant she was alive. As she surveyed the damage across the alley, that was a blessing. A huge blessing. What she saw across the alley looked nothing less than a war zone. Her burned-out Jeep, what was left of it, lay on its side. One house to her left looked all askew, its windows dark and hollow, its roof sinking in on itself. One house to the right, a burnt frame. Puddles of water and piles of smoldering debris lay everywhere. And in the middle, where her house should have been, was a smoking pile of ash and nothing. She sighed deeply and the pain in her side nearly blinded her. Not good. There had to be a broken rib or two in there. Slowly, she tried to make it to her feet. That brought on an entirely new wave of pain, this time from her leg. She looked down to see a piece of metal lodged in her left thigh, the surrounding fabric of her jeans soaked in blood.
She instinctively reached for her cell phone in her back pocket and found it there. Finally, something was going her way. She pulled the phone out of her pocket, hoping for the screen to light, but the screen was shattered. She touched at the screen hopefully. Even if she could get the phone to do something, she might be able to get some help. Nothing. The phone was useless. She threw the phone at the scurrying sound in the weeds and held her aching head in her hands. She had to get help, but first, she had to try to wrap her ribs and her leg. She limped along the garage's cinderblock wall to the open door and disappeared into the building's darkness.
Syd slowly made her way through the garage searching for rags or anything she could use to wrap her ribs and make a tourniquet for her leg. As she searched, she thought she heard voices. She eased her way back to the garage opening and saw two figures standing in the shadows in the alley. She tried to call to them but her parched throat wouldn't let her voice go above a whisper. Then she heard what they were saying.
"You're sure the bitch is dead?"
"I'm telling you, Victor, the stuff we got from the Iraqis was good stuff. Primo. Better than C-4. And I used more than what they said to use. She was dead the second she walked through her front door."
"Well, she better have been. I need to send those rangers a message for what they did to my father."
"Sí, Victor, but only she killed your father."
"Because she was the one my father wanted and she insulted him. Humiliated him. And then killed him. Killing her is a lesson to all those filthy rangers. You just need to be sure she's dead."
"Sí, Victor."
"I want you to lay low here Marco, check all the hospitals, make sure nobody found her. And if they did find her, if she's still alive, I want you to kill that bitch and all the rangers. Walker and his wife and kid. His partner and his wife. And the bitch's boyfriend. Especially him. You kill him nice and slow. No. No, you bring him back to me and I'll kill him nice and slow. That will be my pleasure."
Sydney gasped, the pain in her ribs reminding her it was still there. She pressed herself against the wall, making herself as small as she could in the darkness of the garage. Whoever was out there wanted her dead, and they were going to be checking to make sure she was.
She listened for the two pairs of footsteps to disappear down the alley and in the distance, a car engine started and faded away. She was in so much pain, but going to the hospital was not an option, they'd be looking for her there. If they found her, there was no question what they'd do to her friends and to Gage. The idea sickened her. She had to find help, but she couldn't let anyone know she was alive and put her friends and the love of her life in danger.
Sydney felt around her in the garage, her hands finally touching on soft fabric. She felt over her find for a moment and discovered it was a hooded fleece jacket. She started to tie it around her ribs but stopped. A hood. That might help disguise her until she could get somewhere to get help. She shrugged the jacket on and flipped the hood over her long, dark hair. She knew she'd attract attention if anyone saw her wearing a jacket on such a warm evening, but it might help her attract less attention from the two men she heard talking in the alley, should she see them again. Slowly, she eased into the alley, and, staying in the shadows as much as she could, limped toward the street.
Walking was much more difficult than she expected. Every breath sent a new pain ripping through her side, and her leg throbbed in protest with each step. Syd decided it was easier to stick to the alleyways where there were garages and trees to hide behind to rest.
Sydney made it eight blocks and found herself behind the HOPE Center. She was drenched with sweat and exhausted from pain. The wound on her leg had started bleeding again about three blocks back and she was getting too weak to continue, and she was so, so thirsty. She decided to try to break into the back door of the center. She knew it wasn't the wisest choice, but it was doubtful the men who wanted her dead would look for her there and maybe she could just rest there for a few minutes, get something to drink, and think about where she could go next.
Alex Cahill-Walker knew she should be home with her husband and daughter. It had been an awful, awful day – losing her closest friend in a horrible accident three days before her wedding. She promised as she left the ranch that she'd be back in no more than an hour. She had grant paperwork for the HOPE Center that had to be in the mail the next day, otherwise the center stood to lose much-needed funding for the next year. She felt terrible leaving home after what happened earlier in the day, so she decided to just grab the files she needed and take them back to the ranch.
As she was searching her desk for a report she had to send with the grant papers, she heard a noise at the back door. It stopped, and then she heard it again. Alex pulled the small pistol Walker had long ago convinced her carry from her purse and eased her way to the center's back door. The thumping noise stopped again, and then there was a loud thud as something or someone hit the bottom of the door.
"Who's there?" Alex called. "Who is it?"
From outside, she thought she heard a very faint call for help. She slowly pulled back the curtain on the back door window with the barrel of the pistol and looked out and saw nothing. There was one more thud against the door. Holding the pistol with one hand, Alex flipped the latch and opened the door with the other to find Sydney on the door step, clutching her side. Her leg was bleeding and her hair was sweat-soaked and matted around her face.
"Syd! Oh, dear God, Syd! You're alive! We all thought –"
"I know, and I need you to keep it that way," Syd struggled through pained breaths. "Someone tried to kill me and they're looking for me."
Syd told Alex what she heard from the two men in the alley as Alex helped her to a chair and got her a glass of water.
"But Syd, you need to get to a hospital. And we need to let Gage know you're okay. He's out of his mind."
"No. They're watching the hospitals. And we can't let anyone know I'm alive. Not yet." Sydney grabbed Alex's hands. "Promise me, Alex. You can't tell Gage. They'll kill him, too. I can't let that happen. I couldn't live with myself. Promise me. Promise," Sydney pleaded.
"Well, we at least need to tell Walker. Will you let me do that much?" Alex asked, her voice and eyes full of concern.
Sydney agreed.
When Walker arrived at the HOPE Center with a sleeping two year old on his shoulder, Sydney told him what she'd heard in the alley.
"You're right," Walker spoke thoughtfully. "We can't get you to a hospital, and I would bet money that they've been keeping a close eye on Gage, too."
"So where do we take her?" Alex questioned. "She needs help, Walker. She's lost a lot of blood from that leg wound."
"I have an idea. Remember my cousin David Jackson? Little Eagle? He's a doctor on the reservation. He can help Syd, and she'll be safe on the reservation until we can figure out who these people are and what they want."
"Alex, take Angela and go back to the ranch. I'll take Syd to see David. I'll be home as soon as I can. And Alex, don't tell anyone you saw Sydney here."
Walker kissed his wife and daughter and then carried Sydney out to his truck. They drove through the night to the Cherokee reservation, arriving at David Jackson's office, which was nothing more than a converted storefront on the dusty main street. David met them at the door and Walker carried Sydney inside, giving David a rundown of what happened to her as he did.
After about an hour, David came back out of the examination room. "How is she, David?" Walker asked.
"Well, considering what she's been through, she's surprisingly good," David replied. "She has a concussion, but no skull fracture, and two broken ribs. And she was very lucky. That piece of metal in her leg looked pretty bad, but it wasn't embedded deep enough to puncture her femoral artery. She has a few stitches, but she'll heal up quickly enough. I gave her something for the pain, too, so she ought to sleep comfortably tonight."
"Thank you, David. Now, I need one more favor. Is Uncle Ray's cabin still up in the woods?"
"It sure is. I go up there quite a bit. Just had electric run to it back in the spring."
"Good. We need to hide Sydney there for awhile until we can figure out who is after her."
"No problem, Walker. We can take her up there now and I'll stay with her tonight. She'll be safe there."
"Thank you, David," Walker shook his cousin's hand and went back to the examination room to collect Sydney.
Sydney was lying on an examination table with her eyes closed. She looked worn out.
"Syd. Sydney." Walker reached over and shook her arm. Sydney slowly opened her eyes.
"David and I are going to move you to a safe place here on the reservation. You're going to stay here until I can find out who is responsible for all this."
Walker and David helped her to the truck and they drove through the main part of town onto a dirt road that led into the woods. The rough road made Sydney catch her breath in pain more than once. Finally, the woods opened into a clearing with a small cabin.
"This is it," David said, jumping out of the truck and going ahead to unlock the cabin door. "It's not much, but it is warm and clean."
"Just so there aren't any rats." Sydney replied groggily. "Not a fan of rats."
"No rats," David laughed. "Plenty of squirrels and deer, though. It's quiet and you'll be safe here. There's some food and there's electricity and running water, but you'll need to use the outhouse out back. It's warm enough you won't need a fire, and I'll get you some clean clothes tomorrow when I go back to town."
"I'll be back tomorrow," Walker said. "Right now, let's get you something to eat and then you can get some rest."
"Not too hungry," Syd yawned. "I just want to sleep." She curled up on the bed and within moments was sound asleep. Walker threw a light quilt over her.
"Don't worry Walker," David reassured. "This is safe territory. There are good spirits here who will keep watch over her."
"I'm sure of that, Little Eagle," referring to David by his Cherokee name, "I'm sure of that," Walker tipped his hat to his cousin and slipped out the door.