The Edge

think was their leader came in and made them leave." She paused a moment, then added, "They were all speaking Spanish. I doubt we're still in Oregon."

    "Mexico, maybe," I said.

    "Could be," she agreed. "Or Colombia. Remember the DBA agent who was tortured and murdered in Mexico some years ago? And nothing at all happened?"

    I held her away from me. "Listen up, Laura. Don't think like that. It does no good. You haven't seen Sher-lock or Savich?"

    She shook her head. "When I woke up, I was alone.

    When they brought me here to this room, it was empty. I don't know where they were keeping you, but two of the men half-dragged you in here. It was like you were in a stupor. They tossed you on that bed and injected you. Five minutes later they put you on me. They're animals."

    "I wonder what would have happened if I hadn't gotten control? The way I felt, I would have kept at it until I was dead or the drug finally wore off. Maybe that's what they wanted to see. I wonder if they were laying bets."

    She pulled back. "But you stopped yourself, Mac."

    I kissed her mouth. I smoothed back her hair, lightly ran my thumb over her eyebrows. "I finally realized it was you. I love you, Laura. I couldn't have hurt you."

    "Well then, let's take care of this mess and then get married. Can we do that, Mac?"

    I couldn't believe it had taken me until I was twenty-nine years old to find this woman. I kissed the tip of her nose. "In exactly that order."

    I looked over to the small rings screwed into the wooden floor. Had they done this before? Brought in some women and taken turns, enjoying the hell out of it? The drug was something. I was still hard.

    I looked at Laura again. Her hair was curtaining her face, hanging long and loose, real shiny. I couldn't believe it. "They combed your hair?"

    "Yes," she said, not looking at me. "More than that even. They bathed me, washed my hair, and sprayed some perfume on me. They let two women do this while they watched. Neither of the women spoke any English. Then they brought me to this room. I got the feeling that they've done this before with other women."

    I pulled her close again, and this time I really smelled the musk on her. I felt a wave of lust. It wasn't overpowering, but I didn't want to test myself. "I'm thirsty," I said. Just having a bit of distance between us made it easier. I walked to the sink. It was as ancient as the rug by the bed, cracked and rusted. But the water was cool enough and clear. I washed my face. Laura's scent was gone. The heavy feeling in my brain was easing. I could think more than one thought at a time now, glean more than one impression. But my only thought was that I wanted to kill them. I couldn't seem to get beyond that and I knew I had to. We had to get out of here.

    Laura stood up. "Did you walk away because the drug hit you again?"

    "Yeah, but it's better now. Don't worry about me." Then I shook my head and said, "No, forget that. If I start looking at you funny, or talking funny, anything that isn't right, you get away from me, fast. If you can't, knock me silly. Protect yourself. All right?"

    She studied my face for a long time, then nodded. When she walked toward me, I took an outside route back to the bed. I said while she was cupping water in her hands, "We've got to figure out how to get out of this bloody room."

    We both looked at the one door, no windows.

    "Do you think they'll feed us?" I was starving, my stomach nearly beyond the growling stage, but that wasn't the point. "If they bring us food, we'll have a chance to get out of here."

    They fed us, not ten minutes later. The door simply unlocked, very quickly, and a young boy carrying two big plates in his skinny arms walked in. Behind him stood another man holding an AK-47 at the ready. He didn't come into the room, just stood there in the doorway, aiming his weapon at my belly, watchful and ready.

    I don't even think I heard them close and lock the door. My eyes were on the food. There were stacks of soft tortillas and beans, strips of beef, and thick pepper-and-onion-filled potatoes. I was so hungry it tasted as good as anything I'd ever eaten.

    They left a large pitcher of cold water. We drank the whole thing since the peppers were hotter than pitch. There wasn't a bit of food left. Laura looked down at the empty plates and said, "I hope we don't get sick from stuffing ourselves."

    "Not a pretty thought," I said, remembering the Mon-tezuma's revenge that had me dehydrated