Heirs to a Nightmare Page 6

  Jim studied the rocks with worried eyes. Such a trap could hurt and possibly kill someone. Especially if that someone wasn't moving very fast due to being sick and exhausted. "Then let's find the site of that explosion."

  Together, they carefully stepped over the wire, Jim examining the snow even more closely.

  Swiftly, Blair leaned back to the left and felt Sam shift with him. They swooshed by another large boulder, missing it by inches. Blair didn't even want to think about how much speed they had picked up on their suicide run. Instead, he concentrated his attention on not hitting any of the huge rocks jutting up from the snow. After a few more narrow misses, the slope widened and decreased in angle, slowing their acceleration if not their speed.

  Suddenly, thick brush blocked their path. Blair jerked the belt and threw his weight to the right. The improvised sled veered sharply, sending a heavy sheet of snow into the branches ahead. Tipping up and skidding, the metal plate dumped its passengers roughly onto the snow. As one mass, the momentum spun bodies and sled into the brush.

  Coughing hard, Blair laid still, trying to catch his breath and calm his pounding heart. A soft moan to his left snapped his head up. Damn it, he had forgotten about Sam's arm. "Sam, are you all right?"

  "Yeah," a soft, pain-filled voice replied. "Though next time, Indy, let's go snowboarding in-bounds, okay?"

  Not reassured, Blair pushed himself up and crawled over to where Sam was struggling to sit. "Let me see that arm."

  "It's okay." Sam gritted his teeth as Blair gently looked it over. "I kept it cushioned between us."

  It didn't look any worse than before, but Blair knew that the jolts from their ride had to have caused Sam a lot of pain. The younger man was shivering, worrying Blair that he might be going into shock. Feeling the light touch of wind that swirled around them, Blair glanced up. The storm was nearly here. He had to get Sam into some kind of shelter before it hit with full force. He started looking around.

  Suddenly, Sam began searching the snow. "Damn it, I lost my camera."

  Blair raised his eyes up the slope they had just slid down. "I don't remember seeing it ~cough~ since the tower. It's probably still up there."

  Sam started to stand and nearly slipped. "I've got to get it."

  "Whoa there, Jimmy Olsen," Blair commanded, steadying him. "I'll send Superman back for it when we see him. Right now, we need to find shelter."

  Before Sam could reply another gust of wind blew over them, increasing Sam's shivering and forcing a few more coughs out of Blair. "Okay," Sam whispered in defeat. He glanced around. "Any ideas?"

  Smiling, Blair stood up and gave Sam a hand. "Yeah, big bro's got a couple."

  Sam returned the smile from his extra couple inches of height. "Big brother, eh?"

  Blair chuckled as he draped Sam's good arm over his shoulder. "Well, yeah, I'm sure when you pictured a big brother, you expected someone actually taller than you."

  Leaning on Blair for support, Sam denied, "Nah, I think you're plenty tall enough, Indy. Now, what's your idea?"

  After stepping over or detouring three more of Murdoc's traps, Jim caught a whiff of the explosion on the wind. Surveying the area, Jim spied the metal wreckage. "Over there!"

  Letting caution be blown away with the increasing wind, MacGyver rushed to the site. He knelt down to look under the twisted metal.

  Jim touched his shoulder as he stopped next to him. "I don't see them. Maybe they got out of the way in time."

  "No," Mac stated. He reached down underneath and pulled up a black case. "Sam was caught." Mac closed his eyes, fighting off the waves of anger and fear. Fear for his possibly injured son, Sam. Fear for his sick son, Blair. And a growing, ice cold anger directed at his nemesis for terrorizing them.

  Jim squeezed Mac's shoulder, then started to search for prints in the storm-dimmed light. The two younger men were not here now, so where did they go?

  Regaining some semblance of control, Mac opened his eyes and spotted another note. Yanking it off a nail, Mac quietly read aloud

  While Junior MacGyvers on the run

  really are a lot of fun,

  I'd rather play with their father

  so please follow the path

  to the left of the danger zone,

  and I'll leave the children alone

  Murdoc

  "He seems to be running out of rhymes," Jim commented as he picked up impressions in the snow. Kneeling, Jim studied them a moment, then looked down the slope. "No. They didn't."

  "Didn't what?" MacGyver asked, walking over.

  Jim shook his head. "It looks like someone sled down this slope."

  Mac looked down, spotting the boulder-line bend at the bottom. "Oh, hell." Just how desperate were they? Another glance at the fallen tower answered that.

  "It looks like they made it around the bend." Jim shifted his backpack and stared at the slide marks. "This slope isn't that steep. I think we can follow them down."

  Mac rolled the note in his hand, making his decision. "You follow them and get them to safety. I'll follow Murdoc's path."

  Jim's head snapped around to stare at MacGyver. "Are you nuts? That's what he wants!"

  "I know, but I have dealt with him before. If I can keep his attention on me, maybe I can end this without him killing one of them." Mac turned serious eyes towards Jim. "Just promise me you will get them to safety."

  "Damn it, MacGyver!" Jim ran his hand through his short hair and stared at the rolling clouds above them. "Okay, but you better get through this in one piece. You still have some news to break to Blair."

  Mac didn't even crack a smile as he continued to stare at Ellison. "Also, I know you will always be there for Blair, but Sam doesn't have anyone else. If I don't make it..."

  Jim cut him off with a glare. "I'd do that anyway. But it would be a heck of a lot easier on both of them if you do make it back."

  A corner of Mac's mouth faintly lifted as he recognized the words he had once given Jim.

  Friday evening, Sheriff's Station in Ouray, CO

  Jack slowly walked back to the main room. Due to the storm, all of the search parties for Sam and Blair were in now, except one. Jack still couldn't believe the message from MacGyver and Ellison. Well, he could understand Ellison, being so close, wanting to continue the search. Heavens knows those two could probably use a friendly face carrying food and warm clothes about now. It was Mac's decision to go after Murdoc that bothered him. Not that it really surprised him that Mac would try to keep Murdoc away from the kids. It just worried him. Something the carefree Dalton was not used to doing.

  "Captain Banks!"

  Simon paused in his discussion with Taggart and Thornton. He knew that tone of voice. That was Naomi about to tear into him. Just barely preventing a sigh from escaping, he pasted his 'must be polite' smile onto his face and turned. "Yes, Ms. Sandburg?"

  Naomi's green eyes were flashing. "Some of the deputies were saying that Blair was hurt during a police case. Jim said he was sick from the flu. Now, what is the truth?"

  Simon couldn't hold back the sigh this time. "Actually, Ms. Sandburg, it is a little of both."

  "Both!"

  "Yes, ma'am. Blair was abducted by a group of militia he helped Jim put away. He came down with the flu while they had him."

  "WHAT?" Simon closed his eyes against the angry mother's wrath, while Joel and Pete winced in sympathy. "WHY WASN'T I TOLD?"

  "I suspect Blair didn't want to upset you," Simon tried to explain.

  "How on earth could you allow him to get involved in such dangerous work, Captain Banks? What is it going to take for you to see what is going on and prevent it from happening?"

  "Because it's not up to him." Everyone turned to Jack Dalton standing a couple of feet away. Simon had never seen such a cold look in Jack's eyes before.

  "What do you mean it is not up to him?" Naomi steamed at a new target.

  "Because it is Blair's choice," Jack sternly stated. "Blair chose to work with Jim and the
Cascade PD. That big heart of his has to stand up for people who need help. Banks can't change that and neither can you. Lord knows I've tried to break Mac of that trait for years with no luck. But when you stick your neck out for others, you naturally make enemies. That is what happened to Blair with the militia, and that is what is happening to Mac now."

  Naomi was flabbergasted. "What makes you think you know Blair so well?"

  "Because there is a lot of Mac in him."

  "There is not!"

  "Yes, there is, and you would know that if you'd have gotten to know Mac instead of trying to force him into your way of life!"

  "How dare you..."

  "I dare because I'm the one who drove home what was left of him after you got done." Jack stormed off. And Mac thinks my taste in women is bad.

  Friday evening, Uncompahgre National Forest, CO

  Kneeling next to the metal plate leaning against a thicket of bushes, Jim had to smile. Wonder which one of you thought this stunt up? Jim stood, relieved to find only the plate and not any broken bodies by it.

  Still, he couldn't be more than a half hour behind them. So where were they? Snow was falling heavily now, the wind blowing it around him. Vision wasn't going to do him much good, nor smell. Focusing in on hearing, Jim identified the various storm noises and filtered them out until a familiar hacking sound stood out. A sound Jim had listened to for the past five weeks.

  Jim stepped out in the direction of a sound he never thought he'd be happy to hear.

  Blair carefully sorted through the pile of wood he had gathered, searching for two fairly flat pieces. To his left, Sam added another branch to their fire. In spite of the raging snowstorm, the fire was starting to take the chill out of their hiding hole. A large slab of rock laid against another jutting out of the ground, forming a makeshift roof. Behind them a sharp mountain face covered the third side. With the wind blowing away from the small entrance, the rocks protected the two young men from the worst of the storm. Both had slipped out of their icy jeans and had wrapped up in their coats, waiting for the fire to warm them.

  After gathering as much semi-dry wood as he could find in the flying snow, Blair's adrenaline level had begun to drop. His coughing was increasing as exhaustion pressed down, aggravating his aching ribs. Picking up a promising stick, Blair could see his hand shake in the faint firelight. He tightly closed his eyes, trying to regain control.

  A hand gripped his shoulder. "Are you okay?"

  Blair looked into his new brother's eyes. They reflected the exhaustion, hunger, and pain Blair knew were in his own. "Yeah, ~cough, cough~ just tired."

  Sam studied Blair's face, reading the exhaustion. "You don't need to work on my arm now. Get some sleep first."

  "No," Blair shook his head. "We need to protect it now. ~cough~ The way our luck's been ~cough, cough~ running, Murdoc will catch us first ~cough, cough~ if we wait."

  "I doubt..." Sam started, then both stopped as the noise of someone approaching carried above the wind.

  Fighting back a cough, Blair gently laid a hand on Sam's shoulder, indicating that he should stay put. Silently standing up, Blair grabbed a large branch and picked his way over to the opening.

  "Hey, you two have room for one more?" a familiar voice called out. A large shape stepped forward into the light to reveal a tall man covered in snow.

  "Jim!" Blair exclaimed in surprise and relief. Quickly, he reached out to help Jim take off the snow-covered backpack while Jim brushed off his coat and hat. "Am I ~cough, cough~ glad to see you."

  As he turned back, Jim swiftly caught the pack when it nearly slipped out of Blair's hands. Taking his first good look at his friend in over 30 hours, Jim realized Blair was at the end of his endurance. He pulled the younger man into a tight hug, feeling his tremors of exhaustion and the labor of his restricted lungs. Glancing over the small fire, he quickly noted Sam's tired and bruised face. "I'm glad to see you guys, too. How are you doing?" he gently asked.

  Concern and guilt slipped across Sam's face just before he looked down. Blair coughed, then replied, "Tired and hungry." He pulled back at looked up at his friend. "Sam was hit by a tower ~cough, cough~ and has a broken arm. Could you please take a look?"

  Jim squeezed Blair's arm, recognizing the deep worry in his eyes. "Sure, we wondered if that's what had happened." Jim stepped past Blair towards Sam, pulling off his gloves then reaching into his pocket. He tossed three prescription bottles to Blair in rapid sucession. "Take those now. There is a thermos of chicken soup in the side pocket of the pack. Double up on the antibiotic, you need to build that back up in your system." He knelt beside Sam, gently taking the young man's face between his hands and looking into his eyes before examining the scraped cheek. "How are you doing, Sam? Hurt anywhere else?"

  "I'm okay," Sam replied faintly. "Just feel stupid for getting caught in that trap."

  Noting how cold Sam's cheeks were, Jim offered him a reassuring smile. "Well, you sure scared your dad. We came close to getting caught a couple times ourselves." Pulling back the torn sweatshirt sleeve, Jim lightly touched the injured limb, feeling the break in the ulna. "Yeah, you broke it all right. We'll need to splint this up."

  "Check his right knee, too," Blair called back as he savored the rising steam from the still warm soup. He gripped the plastic top with both hands, trying to keep from shaking.

  Sam shot Blair a glare. "I said I just twisted it."

  "Let's take a look anyways," Jim soothed. As he examined the bruised knee, he ordered, "Blair, the first aid kit should be in the top of my pack. Can you get it for me? Under it should be some dry clothes for you two as well."

  Blair smiled, welcoming his sentinel's bossiness for a change. He handed the cup to his equally cold brother. "Here, drink some soup. It's pretty good."

  "It was suppose to be Deputy Kelsey's lunch, but she felt you two would need it more than she did." Jim took the first aid kit from Blair and opened it.

  "She? Is she cute?" Blair asked as he pulled out some clothes.

  Jim rolled his eyes. "Still after that table leg, huh Chief?" Jim turned his attention back to Sam. "Looks like the knee is just strained and bruised. It should be fine once we wrap it up."

  "You mentioned my Dad. Where is he? Is he okay?"

  Jim laid a calming hand on Sam's shoulder. "He's fine. We split up about an hour ago so I could find you two and he could go after Murdoc."

  "What!" Sam exclaimed.

  "Easy, Sam," Jim soothed. He could feel the alarm shoot through his patient.

  Blair popped his head through a heavy sweatshirt. "Jim, that's probably what Murdoc wants." Worry joined the exhaustion in Blair's blue eyes, along with a host of other emotions Jim couldn't read.

  "That's what I told him," Jim replied, pulling out supplies from the kit. "But Murdoc has been taunting him with notes, so Mac figured he could draw attention away from you two long enough for me to get you to safety."

  "Damn," Sam whispered softly as apprehension filled him. The last thing he wanted was for his Dad to be anywhere near the hitman.

  Tying up a pair of sweatpants, Blair glanced at the blowing snow outside. "How is Mac going to find Murdoc in this storm?"

  "Mac is an experienced outdoorsman," Jim replied absently, concentrating on splinting Sam's arm. "I'm sure he has found a place to hole up until this storm is over."

  Blair continued to stare at the storm. He's got to be okay. I need to yell at him. I need to talk to him. Heck, I just need to look at him. To see him just once as my father.

  While I have often been alone, there haven't been many times when I have felt truly alone. But sitting here in a lean-to with a storm raging outside, I feel alone. I keep wishing I was with my sons and Ellison, feeling their presence, knowing they're safe. Yet at the same time, I know being with them would only put them in more danger. Visions of that tower hitting Sam, of him laying there with gaping wounds and broken bones continually play across my mind. My easy-going son with the quiet smile and the adventur
ous spirit doesn't deserve this. The only consolation is that he couldn't be too badly injured since he escaped with Blair.

  However, that thought just brings worrisome visions of Blair, feverish and coughing, forced to walk to the Ares Bugle facility. I know he's still recovering from that misadventure, know this unexpected trek in the snow can't be good for him. My big-hearted son with the incredible intelligence and endless enthusiasm has to be nearing the end of his strength. I can only pray that the two of them have found some kind of shelter out of the storm outside. Even if they haven't, I try to be confident that Ellison has found them by now and has them out of the weather.

  Thank God for Ellison. If anyone can find Blair in the middle of a snowstorm, his sentinel can. Even when the tough cop was giving me a hard time, I understood it was because he was looking out for his friend and guide. He provides Blair with the security and stability I wasn't around to give, and Naomi apparently could not. I rather wish Sam had one. Perhaps I wouldn't worry so much when he's on assignment.

  One regret does plague me tonight. Well, two, if you count regretting ever getting tangled up with Murdoc in the first place. But the main one is that I didn't tell Blair I thought he was my son before now. I shouldn't have tried to find excuses, or try to find Naomi. I should have relied on Jim's senses and at least have told Blair it was possible. Now I'm not sure I'll get the chance. Blair deserves better than that. I can think of only one way to be sure that Blair has some idea of how I feel if I don't get through this.

  Reaching into his backpack, MacGyver pulled out a notebook. Closing his eyes a moment as he composed his thoughts, he started to write.

  Jim leaned over to lay another large branch into the fire, trying not to disturb the younger two men. He looked down and smiled. Between the sleeping bag stretched out beneath and the blanket over the top, Blair and Sam were nestled together in the tight space. Blair lay against Jim. They reminded him of a pile of sleeping puppies, worn out from play.

  A slight cough directed his attention to his partner. Focusing on Blair, Jim gently brushed back an unruly curl as he checked for fever, listening to his labored breathing and steady, slow heartbeat. The lungs had improved slightly from when Jim had first arrived. However, he was still worried about pneumonia setting in due to his guide's deep exhaustion and previous hypothermia. Blair had fallen asleep while eating, nearly dropping the self-heating tray. Jim, half expecting it, caught him while Sam managed to grab the food with his good hand. Blair had slept deeply ever since. Considering the rough day, Jim wasn't surprised. With luck, he would sleep until morning. Then Jim hoped to get him into a warm, safe, real bed before tomorrow night.