Page 39 of Deadly Strain

Her eyelids sagged, as if his giving her permission was the one thing she needed to succumb to the exhaustion attempting to pull her under. There was one thing she wanted to do first, though. Something important.

Grace put her hand over Sharp’s where it curled around her waist, tangled her fingers with his and squeezed. The last thing she remembered before sleep rolled over her was his hand squeezing back.

***

“Grace.”

She came awake all at once, but not in a panic. Lately, she woke ready to go down fighting. Her nightmares, filled with explosions and gunfire, following her into wakefulness. Not this time. Her sleep had been deep and dreamless.

“Grace.”

“I’m here,” she whispered.

Sharp withdrew his arm from her waist in a slow slide that made her want to catch his hand and hold it. As if they were two lovers, waking to do normal things on a normal day.

What was normal anyway? A home in a place where you didn’t fear bullets coming through the door of your vehicle or explosions bringing down the roof?

Would she ever have that? Would her nightmares ever retreat to a point where loud noises didn’t make her want to hide under a rock?

She sat up. The cave was as dark as when she’d lain down. “What time is it?”

“About zero two hundred.” He sat up next to her, took a drink out of the water bottle she’d opened, and handed it to her.

The water was warm, and she sipped it slowly.

“We slept about four hours,” he told her. “How do you feel? Wounds bothering you?”

“Not really. Yours?”

“Nope. You tie a mean bandage, Doc.” He sounded so cheerful it was irritating.

“Yeah, I’m sure that’s what you really wanted while I was down there.” Shit. Why had she brought that up? She was the one leading the charge on pretending it didn’t happen.

His body shook with a silent chuckle. “I plead the Fifth.”

She waited for him to push, to make a suggestive joke, but none came. Instead, he offered her a granola bar and busied himself with folding the blanket they’d slept on.

Was she ever going to understand this complicated man? It would take a lifetime, but they only had weeks left in their Afghan training mission. After that, she’d be heading to the base in Bahrain.Ifthey survived and got back to Bostick.

It took them only a minute or so to eat, pack up, and crouch at the entrance of the cave to see if it was safe to leave.

“We’re going to move like we did before,” he told her. “Follow me, stay close, and keep watch around and behind us. I’ll worry about what’s in front.”

“Got it.”

“If you need my attention for anything, put your hand on my back.” He glanced out again. “It’s clear out there and the moon is about half-full, so we’ve got enough light to see. If it’s too dark for you, though, you can hang on to my belt.”

She nodded.

Sharp slipped out with all the noise of a wraith, and she followed. How did a man his size move so quietly?

They made their way steadily west through dry gullies, over deserted plateaus, and around coulees of prickly brush. They encountered no people or animals beyond the sort that scurried away from their faint moon shadows.

It seemed like they walked for days when the horizon turned a deep azure, signaling dawn’s arrival. Sharp drew her close to speak his dead-whisper in her ear. “We’re still a quarter mile away and there may be people between us and the pickup site.”

“What do you want to do?”

“Hide.”