Her lips quirked, but otherwise she seemed completely unfazed. “What is your name?”
She really was nuts. What was this, a social? But her voice was compelling enough – or maybe it was simply the blood loss – that he found himself answering anyway. “Kane.”
That seemed to amuse her even more for some reason. She gave a light, musical laugh, one that left an unexpected lightness in his chest at the mere sound of it. Like her, it had no place here.
“Ah. A good Biblical name, that,” she murmured.
Kane snorted in response. He was tempted to tell her the spelling was all wrong, then wondered what the fuck he was thinking. He was on the ground in the jungle, shot through the hip with nasties all around, stuck with a nun who obviously had a death wish for them both. Perhaps she was okay with moving on to the next life, but he still had some things he wanted to tidy up before he was ready to check out. He managed to convey his thoughts to her in one or two roughly hewn but disturbingly clear and concise sentences.
“Maybe, Kane,” she said, narrowing her eyes, her unnatural patience finally beginning to waver a little, “if you put some of that attitude toward getting up we can both get out of here. I’d prefer not to die today either, if you don’t mind.”
Sweet Jesus. She was lecturing him now? But it didn’t take a genius to realize the woman wasn’t going anywhere without him. He supposed he should feel a sliver of gratitude for that, but all he could summon was thorough irritation. If she died, it would somehow be his fault. He hadn’t exactly led a life of purity, but there were probably mega-bonus Hell points for being responsible for the death of a nun. He might not be a staple of the church these days, but his Irish Catholic upbringing would never let him forsake a Sister.
He grumbled again, but stuffed the bitter tasting herbs into his mouth and pulled himself to his feet, grimacing through the pain. Immediately he felt the warmth of her arm around his waist, her insistent tugging on his hand as she ducked beneath it to offer support and felt a surge of intense guilt at how good it felt.
She wasn’t a woman, for Christ’s sake. She was a frigging penguin. He forced the image of his elementary CCD teacher into his mind – Sister Ursula. Small and withered, about a thousand years old, with stockings wrinkled above her orthopedic shoes, starched habit, and constant scent of Ben Gay and mothballs. And with that came the memory of the metal edged wooden ruler rapping sharply against his knuckles. Repeatedly.
That helped. A little. Enough that maybe between that thought and the pain shooting thru his body he might be able to ignore the little shockwaves her touch was sending throughout the rest of him. Oh yeah. He was going to Hell for sure.
“So what do they call you?” he asked as they took their first steps forward.
“Besides Mother Goddamned Theresa, you mean?”
Ah. A nun with a death wish and a sarcastic wit. Fucking A. And hey – were nuns allowed to curse like that? Maybe God overlooked shit like that in extenuating circumstances.
The sound of gunfire behind them kept him from answering. Together they hobbled toward the east, trying to move as quietly as possible. Neither attempted conversation again. Several times they were forced to stop when they heard shouts nearby, but thankfully, they remained undetected. He could hear her grunt under the effort it cost to support him, but she did not complain.
Shit. He had a hundred pounds on her, easy. If the situation was reversed, he could have carried her to safety without breaking a sweat. Sometimes life was a bitch and a half. Either that or God had one hell of a sense of irony.
They finally emerged upon the rendezvous point, Kieran running to them and quickly relieving her of the burden. Only much later he would remember how she sagged to her knees behind him as Kieran took over and helped him to the Jeep.
“Package was picked up an hour ago,” Kieran said. “Let’s get you the hell out of here.”
Gladly. He’d had enough of this God-forsaken place. He was getting way too old for this shit. Using his powerful arms, Kane swung himself into the waiting Jeep, clenching his teeth against the pain as his hip took the impact. They still had a way to go until they were out of danger, but with Shane and Kieran there, the odds were considerably better. Kane clenched his jaw, formulating the scathing tongue lashing he was going to give to the fool woman as soon as she joined him. But she didn’t.
A few minutes later, Shane climbed into the front seat, cursing a blue streak as he put the Jeep in gear and began to drive away.
“Wait!” Kane protested. “What about Kieran and the female?”
Shane did not look happy. “The woman said she had to go back, help the others. Kieran went with her.”
“Fuck! Stop the fucking Jeep! “
“No can do.”
“It’s suicide!”