Читать книгу Off Limits - Lindsay McKenna - Страница 6

Alex awoke slowly, moving through a constant barrier of pain radiating from her wound. She struggled to adjust her eyes to the gloom. At least her nose was working. Wherever she was lying had the dank, stale odor of earth. Slivers of moonlight tremored from some unknown source above her. Slowly she began to see outlines.

Jim McKenzie slept with his chin against his chest opposite her, propped against an earthen wall. Alex heard frogs and crickets in the distance. She appeared to be in a cave of some sort, the bare outline of walls rising around them. The ground under her was hard and unforgiving, but Alex realized that a blanket had been placed beneath her against the dampness. The flight suit she’d worn had been removed, as had her blouse. In its place, a thin blanket covered her. Carefully touching her dressed shoulder wound, Alex realized that her left bra strap had been cut away, but she still wore the remainder of the bra.

Her gaze returned to McKenzie. He was barefoot! Calluses covered the balls and heels of his feet. Her gaze drifted upward, and she drank in the sight of him in his rumpled olive uniform. Even in sleep, his hand rested over the butt of a sheathed knife fastened around his waist.

To the left of him she saw a few meager supplies, but couldn’t make out exactly what they were. When she moved slightly, the marine snapped awake. In the same motion, he jerked the long, lethal-looking knife from its sheath. Gasping, Alex froze.

Jim had gone instantly from a sitting position to a kneeling one, knife ready. Sleep was torn from him. When he realized it was Alex who had moved, his shoulders slumped in relief. The terror in her huge gray eyes made him quickly resheathe his Ka-bar knife. He moved over to her, crouching under the five-foot roof of the tunnel—too low for him to stand upright.

“How you doing?” he asked, his voice shaky with adrenaline.

Alex closed her eyes and touched her pounding heart. “Okay. You scared me to death when you jumped like that.”

Jim sat down, his right leg tucked beneath his body, his splinted leg stretched out before him. In the moonlight he could see the tension in Alex’s face. She was in obvious pain.

“Sorry,” he muttered, “it’s a habit.”

Relaxing as he lightly touched her left arm, Alex nodded. “That’s okay.” She licked her dry lips. “You’re Jim McKenzie.”

He nodded. “I didn’t think you’d remember. You were pretty out of it when I found you. We’re in a caved-in tunnel the enemy used to own.” He pointed upward. “There’s a small, concealed hole up there for air ventilation and light, but if we talk too loud, a passing VC might overhear us. Understand?”

“Y-yes.” Alex watched as he leaned over and retrieved a chipped wooden bowl that contained water and a small piece of cloth.

Jim squeezed out of the dark green cloth, a portion of the towel he’d once worn around his neck to wipe sweat from his eyes. During the last month the towel had gradually been torn into pieces, serving many utilitarian purposes.

“I feel a lot better now than I did when you first found me.” Alex met and held his warm gaze. “Thanks for saving my life.”

His mouth quirked into something resembling a smile. “I’m glad I decided to go and check out the crash. I sure didn’t expect to find a woman.”

Alex relaxed as he gently wiped her face and neck, the water feeling heavenly against her hot skin. “Believe me, I never expected to be in Vietnam, much less get shot down.” She lifted her right hand toward him. “I’m Alex Vance...Alexandra, but my friends call me Alex.”

The shadows were deep, and Jim could see the terror banked in her eyes. She was trying to be brave, and that touched him. He gripped her hand gently and squeezed it. “Alexandra’s a real purty name. You can call me Jim, McKenzie or Mac. Any of them suit.” Releasing her hand, he rinsed the cloth in the bowl of water and squeezed it out again. “What are you doin’ in Nam?”

Licking her chapped lips, Alex tried to smile but failed. “I was taking a helicopter from Marble Mountain to Firebase Lily when we got hit by enemy groundfire,” she said softly. She closed her eyes, her voice growing scratchy. “The other marines, they didn’t make it, Mr. McKenzie. They’re dead.”

He continued to bathe her face free of the crusty dirt and blood. “I’m no officer, just an enlisted recon marine. No need for any formality.” He sighed. “I’m sorry to hear about those men dyin’. You’re lucky to be alive.”

Alex tried to hold back tears. Her gaze clung to his harsh, tense features. Under any other circumstance, she would have thought Jim to be made of granite, his face not handsome at all. But the way he pursed his mouth, as if to hold back his own barrage of feelings, told her he was a man with a conscience, and that made her feel better.

“You’re a corporal in the marines?”

“Recon marines,” Jim corrected. He cradled her right arm as he began to cleanse it. She had any number of scratches that could eventually fester and become infected if he didn’t wash them clean. Picking up a small bar of soap, he scrubbed the dirt from her skin.

“I’m sorry...I don’t know what recons are.”

“You’re a civilian, then? I thought you might be in the service.”

“No, I would never be in the military, believe me.”

The emotion behind her statement caught him off guard. “Not many women join,” he agreed. “Let me tell you about recons. We’re the elite arm of the corps. We get dropped behind enemy lines in teams of six men to gather information from the VC. Then, if everything goes well, we’re picked up at a prearranged spot and returned behind our lines.”

“I’m not too up on the military,” Alex said. “I never knew recons existed.”

“That’s okay.” His mouth quirked again. “When I didn’t find any dog tags or identification on you, I thought you might be a spook.”

“Spook?”

“Yeah, you know—a CIA operative. A spy.”

Alex languished beneath his care. She managed a slight smile. “I’m twenty-two years old and a nursing student in Virginia. I graduate this coming September.”

“A nurse. That’s good,” he said, washing out the cloth. Dumping the dirty water into a small stream at the other side of the tunnel, Jim scooped up another bowl of fresh and brought it back to where she lay.

He wiped her throat and across her delicate collarbone. Once he’d dragged Alex into his tunnel and concealed the entrance with brush, Jim had done the best he could to tend her wound in the dark before catching some sleep himself. What he’d seen when he’d removed her blouse hadn’t been encouraging. “Then you realize you’ve got a piece of shrapnel sticking out of your left shoulder,” he said now. He saw her eyes widen. “I took off your flight suit and blouse—” he gestured toward the rear wall “—washed both of ’em out the best I could and hung them up on those sticks wedged into the wall over there. It’ll probably take a day or two for them to dry in this humidity, though.”

Jim hesitated fractionally before pulling the blanket away from her shoulder to check the wound. They were strangers, and yet he’d nearly undressed Alex in order to tend her injury. As young as she was, Jim knew she must feel awkward at the unexpected intimacy of their situation. But he had no choice. He drew the blanket down to her waist.

Alex was too sick and worried to be embarrassed, but still she felt shy about her partial state of nudity. “If it wasn’t for you, I’d be dead right now,” she whispered, suddenly emotional.

“You’re a fighter, so my money’s on you to pull through,” Jim offered. When he saw her cheeks flush with sudden embarrassment, he murmured, “Sorry I had to undress you.” And then he managed a slight smile. “I don’t make a habit of undressing ladies without their permission.”

His quiet words dissolved Alex’s humiliation. “It wasn’t your fault.” Alex twisted her head enough to look at the compress over her wound. “You saw the shrapnel?”

“Yeah. It’s a pretty big dog-ugly piece.”

She grimaced at his colorful description. “Were you able to clean the wound out?” she asked as she lay back, exhausted.

“The best I could. You fainted as we reached the tunnel, so I took advantage of the situation. I used soap and water to clean it out before I dressed it.”

“Is it still bleeding?”

Jim shook his head. “No, it’s swollen and bruised-looking, but there’s no more bleeding.”

Relief shattered through Alex. “Good. Is there any redness around the wound? Any red streaks?” she asked, thinking of infection or blood poisoning.

“None so far.” Jim glanced at his watch’s luminous dial. “You’ve been asleep all night. That’s good.” He gazed upward toward the source of meager light. “It’s almost dawn.”

Alex stayed quiet a long time, thinking. “How near is the closest marine firebase?” she asked finally.

Jim set the bowl and cloth aside. He wrapped his arm around his drawn-up knee while keeping his other leg extended. “About ten miles, if memory serves me correctly.”

“We’ve got to get out of here,” Alex said, her voice quavering. “I’ve got enough nursing knowledge under my belt to know that if I don’t get this piece of shrapnel removed fast, I’ll be in real trouble.”

McKenzie heard the fear in her voice. Even in the waning moonlight gradually being replaced by dawn, Alexandra Vance was beautiful. The way her full lips moved, the fear in her eyes, touched him as nothing else had since that horrifying incident—Jim savagely shut down his thoughts, not wanting to relive that tragic day. Taking a deep breath, he whispered, “Alex, we aren’t going anywhere. We can’t.”

Her eyes rounded. “Why not?” she demanded, her voice going off-key.

Jim pointed to his leg. “I busted up my left leg three weeks ago. My recon team was hattin’ out for our prearranged pickup point when the VC discovered our presence. We were runnin’ hard, and I told my lieutenant, Matt Breckenridge, that I’d hang to the rear to protect the group. I got pretty far behind, and I wasn’t watching where I was going as closely as I should’ve been.” He grimaced. “I fell into this underground tunnel. It knocked me out. The next thing I knew, I woke up five hours later in the bottom of this place, my leg busted up, and alone.”

“My God. Didn’t your friends come back to get you?”

Jim shrugged. “Normally, no marine leaves a buddy in the field, but I think the tunnel brush hid the hole after I’d fallen into it, and they couldn’t find me. With the VC hot on their heels, they couldn’t spend the time to look long for me, anyway.”

“That happened three weeks ago?” Alex gasped, her gaze flying to his poorly splinted leg.

“Yeah. Recons are taught to be self-sufficient. I regained consciousness, realized I was in this place—” he raised his arm to encompass the space “—and started thinking about survival. This is an old, caved-in tunnel the VC used years ago, probably in the fifties, when they were fighting the French. That stream eventually weakened the dirt walls and the tunnel caved in. The VC haven’t been in here for years, from what I can tell.”

Alex could see more now that dawn light was cascading through the hole in the roof. The tunnel was about ten feet across and thirty feet long. At one end, loose dirt was evidence of the cave-in. She looked up.

“That ventilation hole doubles as an emergency exit,” Jim offered. “Probably was a ladder there at one time, but they took it with them when they left. When you fainted, I lowered you down here as carefully as I could. I didn’t want to start that shoulder of yours bleeding again if I could help it.”

Alex met and held his exhausted blue gaze. The ceiling was about five feet high, and she began to understand and appreciate Jim’s strength and vigilance. “You splinted your leg yourself?”

“Yes. There were plenty of sticks lying around on the floor. I had my knife, so I made these splints.” Pride sounded in his voice.

With a shake of her head, Alex whispered, “Did you have any pain pills?”

He patted the webbed belt at his waist. “All recons carry a pretty good first-aid kit. I had some pain killers, and used a couple of them, but they made me too groggy. VC were all around the place. I had to keep a clear head.”

“But...how did you eat that first week or two?” He wouldn’t have been able to get far with a broken leg.

With a one-cornered grin, Jim said, “Well, now, I’m not sure you want to know.”

“I do.”

With a shrug, he said, “There were a number of banded kraits—poisonous snakes—that were makin’ this place their home. That and rats...”

“Oh, dear...” Alex’s stomach surged and nausea overwhelmed her. She shut her eyes, fighting the reaction.

“Sorry,” Jim apologized. “Now, this past week, I can get around with the crutch I made, and I’ve mostly been living off edible roots topside. I found a VC camp nearby and stole some rice from them. Recons are taught to grub off the land in order to survive.”

“Where are you from?” Alex asked, purposely changing the topic.

He grinned boyishly for the first time. “I’m from the Show Me state, Missouri.” Pointing to his bare feet, he added, “I come from hill folk, and my ma and pa still live in a little cabin in a place known as Raven Holler. Ma makes quilts, and Pa, well...he makes ends meet by making white mule.”

“White mule?”

Jim smiled fondly, thinking back to his family and the growing-up years he’d loved. “Ever heard of white lightnin’?”

“Corn liquor?”

“The same. Pa makes two-hundred proof in stills he’s got hidden around the hills. So far, he’s avoided the law. He sells all he can make. He’s kinda well known for his white mule.”

Alex smiled gently, seeing Jim’s features relax in that moment. There was a burning flicker of hope in his eyes and a kind of dreaminess, as if he were back in Missouri.

“I like your Southern accent,” she offered. His voice, the softness of his drawl, was in direct opposition to his rough-hewn features.

“And you’ve got a voice like a nightingale,” Jim returned.

Alex smiled, feeling heat nettle her cheeks. “I wish I could sing like one. Thanks, anyway.” For the first time since the crash, she felt hope thread through her. “I’ve never met anyone from Missouri.”

“Outsiders call our people hillbillies, but—” Jim looked significantly around the tunnel “—everything I ever learned from my pa has helped keep me alive these past three weeks. None of those people who made fun of us or our lack of book learnin’ would have survived this long.”

Alex hurt for Jim. “People can be cruel,” she whispered. Her father came to mind.

“What about your family?”

“I’m the only girl,” Alex offered.

“Don’t make it sound so bad.”

She grimaced. “I’ve got two older brothers in the marines. My father is—well, he’s a hawk,” she explained, using the term that had recently become common for referring to those in favor of the war. “He believes wholeheartedly in this conflict.”

McKenzie looked at her strangely. “And you? What do you believe about Nam?”

“You’ll probably laugh at me, Jim, but I think it’s all wrong. I don’t believe we should be sending more and more troops over here. It just means that many more men who will get killed.”

“Your pa’s a hawk and you’re a dove?”

“You might say that.” Alex was suddenly thirsty. “May I have some of that water, please?”

“Sure.” Jim reached down and placed his hands beneath her shoulders. “Let me help you sit up. You can’t be feeling very strong right now.”

Alex was grateful for his sensitivity. Biting back a groan, she sat up with his help. Jim took the handleless wooden cup, badly chipped around the rim, and filled it with water. Alex drank thirstily. After several more cups, she felt sated. She wanted to remain sitting upright, and Jim released her. He located a rucksack along the wall and opened it. Producing another well-worn wooden bowl, he scooped some rice from a pocket in the canvas bag.

“I think you ought to eat,” he said, offering her the bowl of rice. “It isn’t much, but it could be worse. You’ll have to use your fingers.”

With a nod, Alex traded the cup for the small wooden bowl. The rice was gummy and tasteless, and she didn’t feel like eating, but she knew she had to keep up her strength. Jim McKenzie’s skin shone in the gloom, and she realized she was sweating constantly, too. The humidity was high and unrelenting in the tunnel, the air stale. When she’d eaten, Jim gave her a clean cloth to wipe her fingers and mouth.

Looking around, Alex asked in a small voice, “There aren’t any more snakes, are there?”

“Not right now.” Jim glanced up at the entrance. “Sometimes they fall into the tunnel.” When he saw the terror in Alex’s face, he added quickly, “But that doesn’t happen often. The rats are gone, too.”

Shivering and not sure if it was from her wound or the thought of sharing the tunnel with such creatures, Alex said, “Somehow, we have to get to the firebase.”

“There’s no safer place than right here,” Jim warned her darkly. Sitting down, he untied the strong, slender vines that kept the splints in place around his leg. Each morning he checked the progress of his leg, reset the splints, which had a tendency to move on him, and retied them into place.

“But,” Alex whispered desperately, “I have to get medical help, Jim!”

Jim’s hands hovered over the knot he’d just tied in the vine. Grimly, he raised his head and met her large, luminous eyes. “We couldn’t make that ten miles in the shape we’re in, Alex.”

“But...I’ll die if I don’t get surgery to remove this piece of shrapnel. We’ve got to try!”

Terror deluged Jim, and he crawled back to the tunnel wall opposite Alex. Adrenaline poured through his bloodstream, and his heart started slamming against his rib cage, his breathing turning ragged. Her cry of desperation triggered the entire terrifying sequence, and suddenly he was helplessly snared in the grip of the nightmare.

Alex watched Jim in confusion. His eyes had turned dull, as if he were no longer hearing or seeing her. Sweat popped out on his face. His nostrils flared, and as Alex continued to watch, his chest began to rise and fall as if with exertion. She didn’t understand what was happening as he collapsed against the wall, caught in the throes of something beyond her comprehension. His eyes tightly shut, he brought his good knee up and buried his brow against it, wrapping both arms tightly around it. Minutes after his retreat into silence, he slowly began to relax.

“Jim?” Alex’s voice was off-key. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

Shakily, Jim released his bent leg and raised his head. He blinked his stinging eyes and tried to detach from the repulsive scene and its accompanying feelings. Alex’s voice was soft—a healing balm. He clung to it, not hearing all her words, but honing in on the reassuring sound. Gradually, the scene he fought to forget began to dissolve. Wiping his mouth shakily with the back of his hand, he straightened. Finally, he forced open his eyes. Alex was staring at him in puzzlement.

“Look,” he began in a rasp, “I can’t ever go back, do you understand?”

“Back?”

“Yeah. I—I can’t handle it anymore, Alex.”

Completely confused, Alex held on to her own disintegrating patience. “You’re not making sense, Jim. What are you talking about?”

He rubbed his sweaty face with trembling hands. “I joined the marines three years ago. Because of my hill background, they sent me to the recons for training and duty. I—I’ve been in Nam for almost two years—” He couldn’t say the words; they jammed in the back of his throat. The black feelings, the grief and the profound sadness finally released him enough to whisper, “Recons are taught to kill a hundred different ways. I did—kill. The enemy. Men. VC who wanted to kill me.” He raised his gaze to the earthen ceiling, his voice low and unsteady. “It always bothered me, even though they told me I was doing my duty. Killing bothered me.... Sure, it was the enemy and I knew it was often kill or be killed. But every time...every time, it got harder. I tried to remember the good that recons do, how we save hundreds, maybe thousands of other marines from dying with the information we retrieve from enemy sources, but I was hurtin’.

“This last recon patrol...it was hell. When I fell in this hole and busted up my leg, I knew it was all over. I thought I’d died. But then I woke up, and I knew I couldn’t go back. I couldn’t go to a marine firebase, recover and get sent back to the field.” He shut his eyes tightly. “I just couldn’t.”

Alex sat a long time digesting his emotional confession. Jim had been trained to kill in a professional sense. She stared down at her hands and then over at his, clenched tightly into fists against his thighs. A hundred different ways to kill. Her mouth grew dry and she hung her head. “Then,” she rasped, “you’re deserting?”

Jim nodded. “Right now, I’m MIA, missing in action. They can’t find my body, so they can’t tell my ma and pa I’m dead. No one knows of my decision. I—I wish I could let them know....” He looked at her grimly. “If I take you to that firebase, they’ll take me to Da Nang for recovery.”

“But, Jim, if you could just get me close to the base, I could make it there on my own,” Alex pleaded.

“You don’t understand,” he said heavily. “That firebase is ringed by VC. I couldn’t just drop you nearby. You’d probably step on a land mine or get shot by VC before you even got close to safety. Even if you made it that far, one of the marines is liable to shoot you for not knowing the right password. No, you’d get killed, Alex.”

Frustrated, Alex glared at him. “If I don’t get out of here, I’m dead, too! So what’s the difference?”

Jim winced at the anger in her voice. He couldn’t blame her. Shame flowed through him. She deserved better than him—a better chance at surviving. Why had she been thrown into his arms? All he’d wanted was to continue to survive without being detected—by VC or friendly forces. “Look,” he rasped, “I need time—”

“I don’t have time!” Alex cried softly. “In a week, I could be dead! Is that what you want? Are you willing to throw my life away so you can stay safe?”

Jim couldn’t bear the tears glimmering in Alex’s haunted eyes. Anger mixed with his grief. “No, dammit, I don’t want to let you die! But I can’t go back. I can’t!”

“Why not?”

Jim’s breath came hard and fast, the pain in his chest so great it felt like a heart attack. He could see the anger flashing in Alex’s eyes. Frustration showed in the set of her stubborn lips. “I can’t talk about it,” he whispered defensively.

“Can’t or won’t?” Alex hurled back hotly. She jerked the blanket aside, and the movement cost her dearly.

Jim’s eyes narrowed. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m getting out of here, that’s what. Get me my blouse and that flight suit! I don’t care if they’re wet or not!”

He stared at her, dumbfounded. “You won’t be able to walk ten feet without falling on your nose.”

Alex struggled to her knees. Pain throbbed through her shoulder and down her left arm. “Hand me my clothes. I’ll be damned if I’m staying here with a deserter. I’m scared, McKenzie, but I’m not so scared I won’t try! I don’t know what Vietnam did to you, but I’m not paying for it!” She stretched out her hand. “Now give me my clothes!”

Glaring at her, Jim rasped, “You’re going nowhere. Sit down, Alex. Right now.”

Squaring off with him, Alex felt the pumping adrenaline suddenly leave her. She felt shaky, then began to tremble. Black dots danced in front of her eyes. She was going to faint if she didn’t lie down immediately.

“You yellow-bellied coward,” she cried hoarsely. “If I could, I’d leave you right now! Just as soon as I get strong enough, I’m getting out of here!” She fell back, the wall of the tunnel stopping her from completely collapsing. The jolt made her cry out, and she reached automatically for her wounded shoulder.

Instantly, Jim moved to her side. “Be still, Alex,” he whispered tautly, pulling her hand from her shoulder.

Jerking away, Alex glared up at him. “Don’t touch me,” she snarled.