Читать книгу Bathed In Blood - Alex Archer - Страница 9

4

Annja’s heart leaped. She reached out and felt for a pulse.

It was weak and erratic, but it was there.

In that instant, everything changed.

Time became the enemy, a crushing weight on Annja’s shoulders. The woman probably had internal injuries, and exposure to the wind and rapidly falling temperatures wouldn’t help. Every minute counted now. Annja needed to get the woman covered up, back to the top of the ledge, then off to a medical facility as fast as possible.

“I don’t know if you can hear me, but I’m going to try to get you out of here. Don’t struggle—just lie still and let me do all the work. Understand?”

She leaned in close but didn’t hear anything. The woman’s fingers might have twitched again in response.

“All right. Hang on. I’m going to free your arm, then roll you over.”

Moving slowly and carefully, Annja put one hand beneath the woman’s left armpit—the arm that wasn’t trapped—and used her other to grasp the woman’s wrist just above the spot where it had become wedged between the rocks. She braced her feet as best she could and then, before she had time to worry about it a second longer, hefted the woman upward just enough so she could free her arm from the rocks.

No sooner had the arm come free than the woman’s body began to slide downward. Annja had already worked out what to do. She didn’t hesitate, grabbing the woman about the torso while pushing against the rock beneath her to stop their slide.

For one heart-stopping moment Annja felt the two of them sliding toward the drop below as the debris shifted in response to the added weight. Annja held the woman tightly against her chest. The anchor she’d placed would stop their fall, but Annja might drop the woman when the device jerked them to a halt. Thankfully the rocks were only settling into a new position, and they stopped moving just a second or two later. Annja sat with her back to the rock face and the injured woman held securely in her arms.

Annja looked down at the woman she’d come to rescue. Her face was as pale as the rest of her, but even in her present state Annja could see she was beautiful. Her slim face, high cheekbones and full lips were framed by long dark hair that was almost, but not quite, black. It didn’t take much to imagine what that face would be like animated by even the slightest bit of personality. Annja had no doubt the woman had been targeted for that very reason.

Beauty, true beauty, always brings the predators out of the shadows.

One of the woman’s eyes was swollen shut but the other slipped open, and Annja found herself staring into her brilliant blue iris. It seemed to focus on her.

“Don’t worry. I’ve got you. You’re going to be all right,” she told her. “I’m going to get you to the hospital.”

The woman blinked—which Annja hoped was a sign she understood—then moved her mouth slightly.

Was she saying something?

Annja bent closer until her ear rested less than an inch above the woman’s lips.

The woman tried again, her breath tickling Annja’s face.

“Krv...Grófka.”

Startled, Annja pulled back and stared down at the woman.

That was one Slovakian phrase she did understand. Krv Grófka—Blood Countess.

“What did you say?” Annja asked, not believing she’d heard correctly, but whatever it was would have to wait; the woman had slipped into unconsciousness.

If she didn’t have hypothermia yet, she would soon unless Annja did something about it. Bracing the woman with her knees, Annja stripped off her coat, then gently lifted the woman and wrapped the jacket around her torso.

Now all she had to do was climb out of here while carrying the injured woman.

Get a move on, she told herself. Time’s a’wasting.

It only took her a few seconds to figure out how she was going to manage the woman’s weight while climbing. Taking a few slings from her belt, she fashioned a rudimentary harness and secured it around the woman’s body. Keeping her cradled against her chest, like a mother carrying a child, Annja clipped the rigging into her harness.

If she slipped, at least they’d fall together.

Try not to slip.

Right. Gotcha.

Holding the woman against her chest with one arm, Annja got to her feet and began carefully moving back to the spot where she’d anchored the rope.

Csilla must have been watching what she was doing, for the light moved with Annja, lighting the way. It was full dark now so Annja was glad for its presence; it kept her from feeling alone. Once she reached the anchor, she swiftly unclipped it and stowed it back on her belt. With the rope now free she immediately began climbing upward.

Annja pulled on the rope while powering herself up the slope with her legs. Step by step, she made her way up the slope to where Csilla waited.

At the top, Csilla stepped forward and took the injured woman out of Annja’s arms, allowing Annja to clamber over the edge and back on solid ground. Once there she unclipped from the rope, left it and the rest of her gear right where it fell and hurried over to her SUV, Csilla close at her heels. Between them they lay the injured woman across the backseat, and then Csilla climbed in back with her while Annja got behind the wheel.

“Hang on!” Annja cried as she started the vehicle, threw it in gear and stomped on the accelerator, sending a stream of gravel flying out behind them as they shot down the road in the direction of Nové Mesto nad Váhom.

The village of Čachtice was closer, but it didn’t have a hospital. Nové Mesto might be a few miles farther, but it had three separate hospitals, one of which wasn’t all that far from her hotel. That was where Annja headed.

Knowing time was critical, Annja kept the accelerator mashed to the floor, rocketing down the narrow road as fast as she dared. She was betting they had two and a half, maybe three miles before they hit the town limits, and she let the SUV eat up the distance like a hungry beast, racing through the night.

A gentle melody broke into her train of thought, and when Annja glanced in the mirror, she found Csilla singing softly to the woman cradled in her arms. Annja didn’t understand a word, but the tune and the tone of the lyrics was soothing, making her think it might be some kind of Hungarian lullaby. Csilla must have sensed she was watching, for she looked up and caught Annja’s gaze with her own, then shrugged, as if to say, What else can I do?

Annja nodded back at her, understanding exactly how Csilla felt, and then focused on the road once more, demanding that the car go faster, as if by force of will alone they could beat the clock that was silently ticking down around them.

It wasn’t long before they hit the town limits. Nové Mesto was nearly ten times the size of Čachtice and had the corresponding increase in traffic as well, but Annja didn’t slow down as Csilla leaned over the front seat and said, “Siet!”

Annja didn’t need to be told twice. She leaned on the horn and began weaving in and out of traffic, shouting at people to get out of her way despite the obvious fact that they couldn’t hear her. It didn’t matter; the yelling helped release some of her stress, which, at the moment, was a welcome relief.

By the time they hit the town center they’d picked up a police escort. Annja barely heard the warbling of the siren—she was completely focused on keeping them alive long enough to reach the hospital. When the white multistory structure with a big red cross on the front appeared, she gave a shout of victory and roared into the parking lot, the police close behind.

Annja slammed the SUV into Park and jumped out, hands in the air, as the police car braked nearly on top of her. As soon as the officer managed to extricate himself from the car, he ran for the hospital doors. By then Annja had the door to the SUV open and was taking the still form of the injured woman from Csilla’s arms. As she turned toward the hospital doors they burst open from the inside and the cop returned, this time with a doctor, an orderly and a rolling stretcher.

The doctor said something in his native tongue and she shook her head. “I don’t speak Hungarian.”

“What happened?” he asked, switching to English as he helped her lay the injured woman on the stretcher.

“I don’t know. We found her halfway down a ridge by the side of the road a few miles north of Čachtice.”

The doctor glanced at the cop, then bent over the patient. “Was she coherent when you found her?”

Annja remembered the comment she thought she’d heard. Blood Countess.

“No,” she answered, brushing off the memory as a figment of her imagination. “She looked at me and seemed to understand what I was saying, but that’s all.”

The doctor nodded to show he’d heard her, but his attention was mainly on his patient. He began giving instructions to the orderly as they wheeled the stretcher toward the door. They were met by a pair of nurses and the little group quickly disappeared inside. To Annja’s surprise, Csilla followed them.

As she watched them go, someone beside her said, “You should get that looked at.”

Annja turned to find the police officer pointing at her leg. Looking down, she was surprised to find a nasty scrape across her right calf leaking blood into the top of her boot. She hadn’t even been aware she’d cut herself, the adrenaline rush masking any pain she might have been feeling.

“Lovely,” she said as the pain finally hit. It wasn’t a serious injury, but it stung like a son of a gun. She glanced toward her SUV, then back at the police officer. He was a young guy, in his midtwenties or so.

“Don’t worry, miss. I’ll keep my eye on it while you get that taken care of,” he said, standing a bit straighter under her scrutiny.

She gave him a smile. “Thanks. I appreciate it,” she said, and then limped into the hospital after the others.