The Storm (NUMA Files 10)

He nodded.

“Are you sure?”

“Don’t I look it?” he managed.

“Not really,” she said.

“I am,” he insisted. “I swear.”

“I haven’t known you very long,” she said, helping him to a sitting position, “but you’re really not normal. Are you?”

Even through the exhaustion Kurt had to laugh. He was hoping for something like I don’t want to lose you or I’ve started to care for you or a similar sentiment along those lines.

“What’s so funny?” she asked.

“I really thought you were going somewhere else with that,” he said. “But that doesn’t make you wrong.”

She smiled.

“How far did I get?” It felt like he’d climbed Mount Everest with a heavy pack on his shoulders.

“All of two feet,” she said.

“That’s it?”

She nodded. “The whole thing lasted only a couple of seconds.”

It had seemed like an eternity.

Around them the other beams shut down. Tautog came to see them, arriving as the first undisturbed wave lapped the beach.

“I agree with her,” he said. “You are not even close to normal.”

Kurt felt his strength returning. “Well, as long as we’ve settled that question, my next request shouldn’t come as any surprise.”

Kurt put out his hand. Tautog grabbed it and pulled Kurt up to his feet.

“And what request would that be?”

“I need a boat,” Kurt said, “a dozen rifles and one of these machines.”

“You are planning to rescue your friends,” Tautog guessed.

“Yes,” Kurt said.

Tautog smiled. “Do you really think we will let you go alone?”

CHAPTER 49

SINCE FINDING THE GUARD SHACK AT THE TEMPLE OF Horus, Joe Zavala’s luck had turned decidedly sour.

First, it proved an epic undertaking to get anyone from the military out in the pouring rain to speak with him. When they did come, they arrived with no interpreter, forcing the temple’s part-time security guard to act as the go-between. Despite his valiant effort, Joe was certain that important details were being lost in translation.

With each attempt at clarification, the military men went from looking perplexed to incredulous to annoyed.

When Joe insisted that their delay was only increasing the danger, they began shouting at him and pointing fingers as if he was making threats instead of bringing a warning.

Maybe this was how messengers get themselves shot, Joe thought.