Midnight Jewels

a good chance they won't spot me Toyota, though. They'll just keep driving, thinking we're still ahead of them on the road."
    "You don't sound too sure of that possibility."
    He smiled ruefully, in spite of himself. "Sometimes you're too perceptive for your own good, Mercy."
    "I've had the feeling lately that hanging around you is the cause of the problem." She came to an abrupt halt as he stopped to push open the door of the old cabin. There was a squeaking sound as the rusty hinges groaned under the unfamiliar exertion. "I'm not going inside, Croft."
    He heard the deep conviction in her voice and felt the resistance in her body as he tried to draw her over the threshold. "You'll be safer in here than you will be out in the open, especially if they've got guns."
    Mercy was staring into the black shadows inside the cabin. "I'll take my chances out in the open with you."
    "No you won't. I have to be free to move. I can't look after you and handle whoever's in the Jeep at the same time." He would try sweet reason first, Croft decided. She was a smart woman. She was just a little nervous at the moment. He tried to make his voice sound reassuring, but the knowledge that time was running out made it difficult to be patient.
    "I'll feel trapped in there, Croft." She swung around, her eyes wide and pleading in the starlight. "I won't be able to stand it. I'd rather be hiding in the trees. I want to be able to run."
    He heard the fear in her words and wanted to gather her close to tell her she didn't have to be afraid, that everything was going to be all right. But there wasn't time to treat her terror with sensitivity. His hands closed roughly around her shoulders and he gave her a small shake.
    "Listen to me, Mercy. I'm having a hard enough time holding myself together. I can't spare even a few minutes to explain why it's better for you to be hiding in here rather than out in the open. Just take my word for it that you can't outrun a bullet. Now, I don't want to hear another word from you. That Jeep will be here in a matter of seconds. Get inside, get down on the floor and stay there until I come back for you."
    "But what are you going to do?"
    "What I'm good at doing. Playing ghost. Get inside."
    She shook her head. "I don't want to go in there, Croft."
    There was no point arguing further. Croft opened the door further with his bare foot and hauled Mercy over the threshold. She started to struggle and then went limp in his hold.
    He knew she had decided not to fight him. He pulled her close for an instant, pressing her face into his shirt.
    "You'll be okay here, Mercy. Just stay down and don't make a sound, understand?"
    She nodded against his chest and said nothing. When he released her and moved to the door she still said nothing. He doubted if she could see anything more than the bare outline of his body in the darkness of the old shack, but her head turned to follow his soundless movement. He was slipping outside into the cold night when her voice came softly.
    "Croft?"
    "What is it, Mercy?" He could hear the Jeep's engine clearly now. His attention was focusing on it, not Mercy's small, tense voice.
    "Be careful."
    "I'll be careful. You be quiet. Very, very quiet." He let the old door swing shut.
    The Jeep roared around the last bend and raced into sight on the road that curved through what was left of Drifter's Creek. The headlights cut a bright swath through the darkness, momentarily throwing a handful of the empty, weathered shacks into stark relief.
    A couple of minutes later the Jeep was through the town and charging into the next series of curves that led down to the main road. Croft stood in the shadows of the general store and watched the vehicle disappear. He wasn't going to count any chickens before they hatched. Sooner or later whoever was driving would realize the road ahead was empty. The next realization would be that the only place a car could turn off the road was Drifter's Creek.
    The Jeep would be back soon.
    Another wave of debilitating shivers went through Croft. He wrapped his hands around his upper arms and forced his mind to steady itself. At least he seemed to be Over the bouts of nausea, thanks to Mercy's first aid treatment. The aching tiredness was getting worse, though, and he was still getting brief flashes of dizziness. He had to stimulate his internal resources. He needed a good dose of adrenaline to keep him moving.
    Croft leaned back against the wood boards of the old store and closed