And Then You Die by Iris Johansen Page B

hiding place before that happened.
    She was so scared. She had thought she was home free when she'd lost Kaldak the second day, but then the soldiers had come. Had that been his doing?
    Josie whimpered in the blanket sling Bess had fashioned. “Hush,” Bess whispered.
    She couldn't blame Josie for complaining. Josie was as hot as Bess and hungry. She'd run out of food the third day and refused almost all the edible plants and berries Bess had found on the hillside.
    But Josie mustn't cry now. Not now. To keep her silent, Bess had been forced to give her sedatives she had taken from Emily's bag. But the pursuit today had been so intense, Bess had had no time to administer a new dose, and the drug had almost worn off.
    She skidded, fell, rose to her feet, and fell again.
    A grove of trees lay ahead, balanced precariously on the sloping hillside.
    The soldiers were closer to the crest.
    She was almost there.
    Oh, God, let there be somewhere she could hide.
    She was in the grove.
    Nothing.
    The pine trees were leggy, the leaves sparse. Even if she climbed one of them she would be seen.
    A fallen tree. Its branches spread over the ground.
    She dove for it, under it, digging furiously in the hard earth to form a cover. The dead branches created a canopy, but she could still be seen by anyone who stooped and peered through the foliage. Or heard, if she couldn't control the harshness of her breathing.
    Or if Josie didn't quiet down.
    “Please, Josie. Please, baby.”
    Josie's whimpers increased.
    The soldiers were close. They must have entered the grove. They were talking.
    Let them keep on talking. Maybe they wouldn't hear Josie.
    They had stopped talking.
    She held her breath.
    Josie fell mercifully quiet.
    The tree shifted above her.
    She braced herself.
    No, they were stepping on the tree, jumping over it. She could see their legs as they landed on the other side.
    Josie stirred in her sling.
    No.
    The soldiers were talking again. They didn't like the heat or spending the day climbing hills. They didn't like Esteban. He was a son of a bitch.
    Amen.
    Josie whimpered again.
    Bess's heart stopped.
     
    A bird?
    Perez turned to look back at the grove.
    They should probably check it out. They'd been instructed to follow every lead. Esteban would be furious if they lost the woman. He'd sent everyone climbing these fucking hills, even him. Perez had thought he'd inherited a soft job when he'd been elevated to Galvez's position, but here he was again sweating and swearing with the rest of the ordinary soldiers.
    “You see something?” Jimenez asked.
    The grove was in deep shadow. Perez saw nothing.
    But had he heard something?
    He'd almost fallen on that damn slippery shale when they'd gone down the slope. His ankle still throbbed.
    Screw Esteban.
    It was a bird.
    “I was just catching my breath.” He turned around and started down the hill. “I don't see anything.”
     
    Thank you, God.
    Bess could feel every muscle go limp as she realized the soldiers hadn't heard Josie.
    They were leaving the grove, searching the hillside beyond the trees for more signs of her passing through.
    If she was very still, if she could keep Josie still . . .
    There was a chance.
    The soldiers were almost out of sight. In a moment it would be safe to move out and try to find another hiding place for the night.
    Or maybe she should keep moving. How far was she from the coast? she wondered wearily. She must have come at least thirty miles from Tenajo, and that left another twenty to go.
    Twenty miles. The distance seemed so small when you were driving it in a car. It was an eternity on foot. It seemed impossible to––
    It wasn't impossible. That was only a stupid excuse because she was so tired. She would not give up. Josie needed her. Emily needed her.
    Josie whimpered again.
    “Don't nag, kid. We're on our way.” She carefully edged out from beneath the tree. “But I need a little help. Okay?”
    She needed more than a little help.
    But she'd