By Kit Donaree & J.B. Cliffe

Sam Wexford struggled to breathe at the sound of Lewis' voice echoing off the walls of the deserted mine. Her terror almost overwhelmed her. 

"You're dead. I killed you!" 

"Like everything else you did for me, Samantha, you fell just short of doing it satisfactorily," Lewis taunted her. "Now where is my son!" 

No, she silently screamed. Adam is my son! Sam could not, would not, let this animal find him. Dropping to the ground, she grabbed hold of a length of wood lying near her feet. In one smooth motion, she rose up and swung the makeshift weapon in Lewis' direction. Sam felt a hot flash of pleasure at the sound of wood hitting flesh and her tormentor's grunt of pain. 

"You'll pay for that later," Lewis promised. His icy blue eyes spewed hatred. "Before I'm through you'll be begging to give me the answers to anything I ask you." 

"Go to hell," Sam cried as she lunged forward for another attack. 

She never saw Lewis reach into his pocket to pull out his own weapon. As she raised her arms to swing the board, he jabbed the tensor into her side. Fifty thousand volts of electricity coursed through her body. The thick piece of wood slid out of Sam's numb hands and dropped to the floor just as her limp body crumpled at Lewis' feet. Do something, her mind screamed, don't let him take you again. But she couldn't seem to make her body respond. A few feeble mewling sounds were all she could manage as she stared up at him. 

"Right back where you belong, Samantha," Lewis said as he crouched down beside her. "Flat on your back and waiting for me to do whatever I want to you." He grabbed hold of Sam by the front of her shirt and hauled her to her feet. He caught her when her legs wouldn't support her and easily tossed her over his shoulder. Moving quickly now, Lewis checked to make sure there was no one around to observe him. He carried Sam to where he had left the car. Triana jumped out and opened the back door when she saw him coming. Lewis dropped Sam face up on the back floorboards. 

"You've led me on quite a chase," he said with a cold smile. "But, as you can see, it was all for nothing. I have a little place I found on the outskirts of Phoenix that should provide a nice, private place for us to talk. Now, sleep well until we get there." 

Sam fought to move her head away from the foul smelling cloth Triana held over her face but could only lay there as the chloroform sent her spiraling down into terrifying blackness. 

"They could be anywhere." 

Sloan stared at the list of names on the legal pad in front of her and shook her head. She, Tom and Ed had set up an operations center in Tucson and were currently trying to track down the fifteen people who had crossed into the United States at Nogales on the date of Samantha Wexford's escape. 

"We've eliminated seven people so far," Ed said with tentative optimism. 

"Yes, but we've struck out in even contacting the other eight," Tom pointed out. "I can't stress enough how important it is to find Lewis." 

"Hey, you don't have to tell us what is or isn't important, Tom," Ed said angrily. "We've seen first hand what happens to humans when your people get a hold of them." 

Sloan quickly stepped between the two men before things got out of hand. 

"Fighting amongst ourselves isn't going to help find Samantha and her son," she said angrily. "Ed is right, Tom. You don't need to tell up how important it is we get Samantha away from Lewis. I know what it's like to spend time with that cold blooded madman. It's not something I would ever want to repeat. Ed, I think we should split up and each take four of the last eight names on the list and physically go check them out." 

"It would save time," Ed said slowly. "But I don't know if I like the idea of us splitting up." 

"Sloan and I will track down the people located north and east of Phoenix," Tom said. "Ed, maybe you could handle the remaining four names that are in and around the Tucson area." 

"You got it," Ed said. Now that Tom had lost the attitude, he was more than willing to cooperate. "The clock is ticking folks, let get a move on." 

Within the half-hour, Sloan and Tom were heading toward a small town named Wickenburg. They were looking for a man named Faraday. It was a long shot. His name hadn't appeared on the official list. While they were checking out the unfortunate border patrol officer's personal effects, Sloan noticed a book lying on his desk. She might have overlooked it she hadn't recognized the author as one of Ed's favorites. When she flipped open the cover she found the author had signed it and dated it. When she saw that the date fell in the time frame they were looking at, Sloan added the name Jeff Faraday to their list.  

At the moment, Jeff Faraday was beside himself with worry. Stuck with a the baby and a busted pickup, the last thing he needed to see was Sam's horse come racing by him without a rider. 

"Come on, Adam," he said as he lifted the little boy out of his infant's seat. "We have to get home, right now." 

 Wanting to run, but forcing himself to go slowly because of the baby he carried, Jeff made his way home as quickly as possible. After depositing the baby inside the cool house with his pacifier, he caught hold of the horse that was pacing nervously up and down and gave her a swift once over 

"No blood, bumps or bruises," he said with relief. "That means you haven't taken a spill, Diamond. Now, what the hell did happen?" 

After taking care of the horse and releasing her in the paddock, Jeff hurried back into the house. Darkness had fallen swiftly and the thought of Sam laying hurt and frightened somewhere out there ate at his gut. 

Lifting up the phone he quickly punched in the numbers. 

"Molly? It's Jeff," he said before his sister could even say hello. "Listen, I've got a big problem over here." 

"What do you need, baby brother," Molly said indulgently. 

"Can you drive down here right away? I need someone to watch the baby." 

It was only when the dead silence coming from the other end stretched on, that Jeff realized what he had just said. 

"I'll explain everything when you get here, Molly," he said quickly. "Please, will you come?" 

"I'll be there within the hour and you'd better believe you'll fill me in. If you went and made me an aunt without letting me know, I'm going to strangle you!" 

Jeff spent the next forty minutes or so pacing up and down while he fed Adam. The baby had just drifted off to sleep when he heard the car pull in out front. He rushed out to meet his sister and placed the sleeping baby in her arms. 

"Thank God, I thought you were never going to get here," he said. "Can I borrow your car?" 

"Wait just one minute, Jeff," Molly protested. "Aren't you even going to attempt an explanation?" 

"Sorry, there's no time. I just fed him and there's more formula in the 'fridge. Just heat it . . . oh hell, Mol, you've got five kids, you know the routine. Keys?" 

Molly tossed them to him. 

"I want the whole story when you get back," she called out as he slipped behind the wheel of her 4x4. "You are coming back, right?" 

If he answered, she didn't hear it over the roar of the engine as he tore out of there. 

"Okay, baby boy," she murmured to the sleeping child. "Let's get you back inside and settled so Auntie Molly can start snooping around to see what she can find out about you and your Mama."  

Jeff forced himself to drive slowly for fear of missing any sign of Sam in the darkness as he made his way to the Vulture Mine. He arrived without seeing a trace of her. 

"Sam? Honey, are you here," he called out as he raced toward the entrance. She had been there. The beam from his flashlight found the sunglasses she'd borrowed from him lying crushed on the ground next to a large set of men's shoe prints. 

"Oh, God, Sam, what happened to you?" 

Jeff slumped down on the same box Sam had taken refuge on earlier that afternoon. Propping he elbows on his knees, he rested his head on his clenched fists. He never should have forced her to leave the ranch. Sam had told him about the madman who had held her captive and forcibly impregnated her. She had also told him that she had used the knife she still carried to attack this Lewis in order to escape. He remembered how ill she'd looked when she told him she had killed her attacker. But what if she hadn't? What if that footprint belonged to the very man she had been running from? 

"I'll find you, Sam. No matter where that son of a bitch took you, I'll find you." 

And then it hit him. 

"Adam," he cried as he raced back to his sister's car. 

"I know you're awake, Samantha." 

She was, but just barely. Sam fought down the nausea as she slowly lifted her head and looked at the man who had been haunting her dreams for weeks. He was smiling at her and more than anything, she wanted to smash her feet into that egotistical bastard's face. 

 "I see you got yourself another loyal follower to worship at your feet," Sam said when she saw the woman who had drugged her hovering nearby. "This one looks a little long in the tooth though, Lewis." 

Her teeth rattled from the force of the blow the furious woman dealt her and Sam could feel blood trickling down from her split lip. But her head was clear now and she was furious. 

"Reign in your bitch, Lewis," she said. "And let's get this over with. These restraints are ruining my outfit." She had awoken to find herself sitting in a straight back chair. Her wrists were tightly bound behind her. Her blouse hung open nearly to the waist. 

"I've missed you, Samantha," Lewis said as he slowly undid the remaining buttons. Still smiling, he pushed the shirt back over her shoulders until it drooped down onto her bound hands. 

"Sorry I can't say the same." 

"You'll looking quite well," he said as his hand lazily stroked first one breast and then the other. She glared up at him, willing herself not to react to his actions. But the thought of his hands on her body again was making her ill. Sam's heart jumped when he stopped and then suddenly undid buckle on the leather belt he was wearing. His eyes never left her face as he slowly pulled the belt through the loops on his slacks. He smiled as he placed the buckle in his palm and then wound the rest a few times around his hand. When he began slapping the remaining length against the other palm, Sam began to tremble in spite of her resolve. Lewis' smile grew wider. 

"Where is my son, Samantha?" 

"Rotting in the ground somewhere in Mexico." 

He grabbed a fistful of her hair, hauled her up from the chair and forced her to her knees. Sam heard the swish of the belt and then screamed at the searing pain that cut a path across her bare back from her right shoulder to her left hip. She started to double over but Lewis pulled her back up. 

 "Wrong answer, Samantha. Where is my son?" 

"Dead," she gasped. 

Four more times the same question was asked and each time Sam's response grew weaker but remained the same. Five livid welts stood out clearly on her pale flesh when Sam finally passed out face down on the floor at Lewis' feet. 

"Maybe she's telling the truth," Triana said. 

 "My son is alive," Lewis told her. His face was flushed and covered with a thin film of sweat. His breath came in rapid little gasps. Aroused by the power and violence of the man, Triana moved in and placed her hands on his chest. She could feel his heart pounding beneath her palms. 

"Then eventually she will tell us where he is. However, until she regains consciousness, I can think of several other interesting things we could be doing to pass the time." 

Triana let out a surprised little gasp when Lewis pulled her to him and plundered her mouth. But soon her passion matched his move for move. They barely made it into the next room before they began tearing off each other's clothes. Falling onto the bed, they attacked each other like a pair of savage beasts in heat. 

 It was over an hour before Lewis came back into the small room where Sam was being held. She hadn't moved. 

"Get up!" 

Sam had heard Lewis come in the room and she could feel him standing close to her now. She hadn't moved. When she regained consciousness, she had found that even shallow breathing had hurt. 

 "I said get up," he told her as he shoved her legs with his foot. 

Thinking of Adam, she gathered her strength for round two. 

"You stink of sweat and sex, Lewis," Sam said. "Did beating me arouse you and your girlfriend?" 

She bit back a cry when he grabbed hold of her arms and pulled her up to her feet. She could feel the throbbing wounds on her back opening further. 

"Jealous, Samantha," he murmured into her ear as he drew her to him. 

"Hardly," she gasped she brushed up against him. "I never found you that satisfying." 

Sam stiffened for the expected blow but it never came. Instead, Lewis dragged her back over to the chair and shoved her down onto it. She moaned when her ravaged back came in contact with the hard wood and quickly leaned forward as Lewis bent down to secure her ankles to the legs of the chair. 

When he finished, Lewis reached for the bloodstained belt that lay on the floor nearby. 

"No," Sam cried as she desperately tugged at the restraints that held her trapped in the chair. Please don't let him beat me again, she silently prayed. 

"Where is he, Samantha," Lewis asked again. 

She flinched as he snapped the leather against her breast just hard enough to sting. But she didn't answer him. She wouldn't, couldn't, no matter what he did. Adam's life depended on her silence. 

"Do you enjoy the pain," he asked as he brought the strap down a little harder this time. 

"No, you bastard," Sam gasped. "Only sick perverts like you get off on pain." 

Moving behind her, he quickly looped the belt around her upper body and pulled her tightly against the back of the chair. 

"I want you to sit there and think about how much more pain I will inflict on you unless you tell me where my son is." 

She strained against the leather restraint in a desperate attempt to find release from the agonizing pain that radiated from the wounds on her back. 

 "He's dead," she cried. "I killed him. I told you I would." 

"Why do you continue to lie to me, Samantha?" 

 Lewis jerked on the belt and Sam screamed.  

"I crushed his skull before he could take his first breath. I killed him, Lewis. I killed your precious son!" 

Lewis pulled the belt even tighter and tied it off. The sound of Sam's steadily weakening scream followed him out of the room. It stopped altogether by the time he had returned to his bed and Triana. 

When Jeff returned to his ranch he found a strange car parked out front of his house. His pulse was racing as he jumped out of his sister's jeep and raced toward the front door. He wasn't expecting anyone and Whispering Ranch was too far off the beaten path for people asking directions. 

"Who the hell are you and what are you doing holding my son," he yelled when he saw the young woman with Adam. 

"My name is Dr. Sloan Parker, Mr. Faraday, and I think we both know this isn't your son." 

"Where's my sister," Jeff asked when he saw that Molly was no where in sight. 

"Right here," Molly called out from the kitchen. "I went to get a bottle so Sloan could feed the baby." 

So it was plain Sloan, was it? How chummy, Jeff thought as his sister came back into the room smiling. He looked past her at the man following closely behind. 

"Hi, Jeff," Molly said. "Sloan and Tom are friends of Samantha's. Where is she?" 

 Friends? No, he didn't think so. The woman looked friendly enough, but he had seen men like Tom before. He had trouble written all over him. 

"Just give me a sec to wash up, folks and I'll be right with you," Jeff said. His gun was in his room and he wanted it in his hand. 

"Why don't we talk now," Tom said as he moved to block Jeff's way. 

"If you want to keep breathing, mister, I suggest you step aside," Jeff said quietly. 

"We don't any trouble," Tom said. 

"Then leave right now and I'll try and forget that you and your friend here came into my home uninvited." 

"We can't do that, Jeff," Sloan said as she came to stand beside him. "Samantha is in terrible trouble. We have to find her and get her and her son to a safe place." 

"Look, I don't know who the hell you people are but I want you both out of here. Molly, take Adam and go get in your car right now." 

The gun appeared in Tom's hand in an instant. 

"Sit down, Molly. Jeff, why don't you join your sister on the couch?" 

Since he didn't want to endanger either Molly or Adam, Jeff complied with Tom's request. But he watched for his chance to change the odds. 

"I don't know how much Samantha has told you," Sloan said. "But we have been searching for her for months." 

"You can save your breath, lady," Jeff told her. "I'm not going to discuss Sam or her son with either of you." 

"She was kidnapped by a man named Lewis almost five months ago in Mexico," Sloan continued on as if he hadn't spoken. "Her fiancé and two friends were among the several hundred people Lewis and his group killed. As far as we know, Samantha was the only survivor." 

"Oh my God," Molly said as she pulled Adam a little closer to her. 

"We believe the baby was the reason she was spared." 

Jeff tried not to show how shocked he was by what she was telling him. Sam had told him she was kidnapped and abused but nothing about the massive death that had surrounded her. Or the fact that Lewis was some kind of a crazy cult leader. 

"We followed Lewis' trail to a small house on the outskirts of Casanaro. It was burned to the ground before we could find the identity of the woman's we found murdered there." 

Morine. The woman Lewis had killed because she tried to help Sam escape. Wait a minute, one victim. They mentioned only one victim! 

"What happened to this Lewis?" 

"I think you know," Tom said. "How long has Samantha been missing?" 

Jeff felt sick. His earlier suspicions were all true. Lewis had somehow survived Sam's attack and had hunted her down. If he had her, it would only be a matter of time before he forced her to reveal Adam's whereabouts. He made up his mind to trust them immediately. They had to get Samantha back before he killed her. 

"We have to get my sister and the baby out of here now," he said as he stood up. "Sam disappeared several hours ago." 

He quickly told them about her trip to the Vulture Mine and what he had found there when he finally was able to check it out. 

Tom and Sloan exchanged a worried look and then they began working on a plan. 

He was a creature of the night. It had always been that way. As soon as the sun set every evening, the singing in his blood that urged him to wander under the shelter of the night sky, would take hold and he would slip away from the elder's home. The other night creatures didn't mind the child intruding on their territory. He was one of theirs. They recognized him. 

Johnny Moon Dancer moved quickly through the night. The young Navajo had traveled this same route many times in the two years since he began his nocturnal journeys. He was ten years old. 

"Something is wrong," he said softly as he lay sleepless in his bed. "Evil is stalking the night." 

 When the moonbeams danced at the bottom of his bed, Moon Dancer went in search of some answers. He headed down the mountain toward the small house that lay cradled in it's shadow. No one had lived there for quite some time, but the other day he had noticed some activity. 

Now, as he came upon it, Moon Dancer could feel the evil emanating from within it's darkened rooms. Creeping forward, he peeped into the carport on the side of the house. He was right, a car was there. Moving like smoke on the wind, he drifted from window to window as he tried to see the occupants. He moved around to the back of the house and saw a light shining dimly through the tightly drawn shades. He had passed by the hard working generator that powered the electricity in the small cabin. He couldn't see anything when he stood on tiptoe and tried to look in. But the blackness that he could feel coming from that room had him gasping and falling back. Yes, evil was here. It wouldn't be long until he saw its face. 

They had spent half the night going over their next plan of attack. At first light, they packed up Molly and Adam and sent them back to Kingman. Jeff, Sloan and Tom had decided to head to Wickenburg to see if Lewis had been seen there. It was a simple matter to get the right answers when you knew what questions to ask. Jeff had quickly come to respect both Sloan and Tom for the efficient way they took over. 

 Armed with a description of Lewis, they quickly found that he and another woman had been in Wickenburg asking about a man named Wallace. 

"Old Charlie Wallace is the caretaker of the Vulture Mine," Jeff told them. "He lives out in a trailer a couple of miles down the road from the mine." 

"That must have been where they were headed when they ran into Samantha," Sloan said. "He has to be the luckiest damn man I've ever known. He picked the one day that she finally decided to go off on her own to happen to drive by and see her. I think we should go have a talk with Mr. Wallace." 

"What for," Jeff asked. "If he found Sam he wouldn't need to go see Wallace." 

"Sam wasn't the only one he was looking for," Tom quietly pointed out. "If he thinks this Wallace guy has been hiding them out, Lewis would have wanted to talk with him." 

"If only I hadn't mentioned that damn mine. I practically forced Sam into going," Jeff said quietly. And he would have to live with that decision for quite a while to come. 

"He was homing in on her, Jeff," Tom explained. "If he hadn't found her today it was inevitable he would have found her soon after. At least he hasn't found the connection to you." 

"And with Molly and Adam safely away, he won't be able to get his hands on them in case . . ." Tom's voice trailed off when Jeff suddenly stalked off. 

"I'll get him," Sloan said. She caught up with him when he suddenly slumped down on a park bench several feet away. He dropped his head into his hands in utter despair. 

"She's a fighter, Jeff," she said as she sat down beside him. 

"You don't know what he's already done to her," Jeff said. "You didn't see how she looked when she came stumbling out of those woods a little over a month ago. I don't see how she will be able to survive another encounter with him." 

"She's not only fighting for her own survival this time," Sloan told him. 

"That's what frightens me," he admitted. "I know from personal experience how hard a mother will fight for the life of her child." 

He told her about his sister. How Patty had silently endured years of abusive behavior from her husband because she had been too afraid to stand up for herself and leave him.  

"But when he began beating their little boy, she finally found the courage to make him choose to stay with them and change or to leave." 

"What happened," Sloan asked although she thought she already knew the answer. 

"He beat her to death one day when she stepped between him and the boy," Jeff said. "Oh, he was sorry after it happened. Told anyone who would listen how he didn't know what he was doing. He died in prison and my sister Molly is raising Timothy. He hasn't spoken a word since it happened." 

 "I'm so sorry, Jeff." 

"Sam won't tell him where Adam is, Sloan. She'll place herself between him and the boy and die before she reveals his whereabouts." 

"Then we'll have to find them before that happens," she said. 

As they got up and walked back to where Tom stood waiting, Jeff prayed that they would be in time. 

Jeff sat staring at the man sitting in the passenger seat of the car. Tom was certainly an odd duck. Didn't say much, just sat there with an intense look on his face. When he and Sloan had come back to the car, Tom nodded at him and then opened the back door for him. 

"Do you really think Charlie Wallace is going to be able to tell us anything," Jeff asked once they had been driving for awhile. 

"You said this trailer of his is remote, out of the way," Tom asked. 

"Yeah, Wallace isn't the friendliest guy in the world. Likes to keep to himself." 

"Lewis will want to take Samantha somewhere out of the way," Tom said quietly. "Somewhere they won't been noticed." 

"So when he finds out that Wallace isn't the guy, you think Lewis may just get rid of him and hole up there?" 

"It's a possibility," Sloan said. 

Yeah, and so was the fact that Lewis could be hundreds of miles away from here by now too. Jeff wasn't going to let himself get any false hopes up. He had a feeling that this trip was going to be the first leg in a long journey. 

"Something bad is going on in that cabin at the bottom of our mountain," Moon Dancer said at breakfast the next morning. 

"So you went out by yourself again, grandson," Johonaa'ei said with a frown. 

"Only for a little while," the boy explained quickly. His grandfather had not been pleased to learn that he had liked to go out during the night hours and explore. When he had first come to live here after his parents had died, Moon Dancer wasn't sure he was going to like living in this remote area with a man he had seldom seen while growing up in the city. But he soon learned to love the old man and found a joyous freedom he'd never known before when he discovered the heady excitement of his nighttime treks. 

"You agreed that you would take Shadow with you," Johonaa'ei told his young grandson. The big dog's ears twitched at the sound of his name but he remained stretched out on the floor beside the boy's chair. It was a compromise that had eased the older man's mind. "I don't like you traveling alone at night. Evil rides cloaked in darkness." 

"I'll take him tonight," the boy promised. 

Johonaa'ei's heart was heavy as he stood looking at the boy. The only child of his only child, this one had been born with an ancient soul. His eyes were full of wisdom and his thoughts those of a pure heart. If he said that evil had come to dwell at the foot of their mountain then it was so. He himself could feel something trembling on the night winds.  

"What did you see there?" 

The boy looked off into the distance and his eyes became unfocused as he began to speak... 

"There was a car, a jeep, in the carport and three people in the house. Two have black spirits, Popi, the darkest I've ever seen. But the other spirit is beautiful."  

The boy's face lit up with a smile and then he shivered. The smile faded and a look of intense fear settled on his childish features. 

 "The darkness is spreading, Popi. It's beginning to smother out all the goodness."  

The boy suddenly stopped speaking and he looked confused as he blinked several times and then looked at his grandfather. 

"It is all right, Moon Dancer. You have been dream walking." 

"Will the bad guys win," the boy asked. Suddenly he sounded very much the ten-year-old child. 

"That remains to be seen, my child," the elder said slowly. "In the meantime, we must stay on guard and keep each other safe." 

No one was there to keep Sam safe. She alone stood between Adam and the madman who was intent on claiming him as his own. And it was becoming quite obvious that Lewis was willing to go to any lengths to force her into revealing the baby's whereabouts. 

Lewis left Sam strapped to the chair for over two hours before he returned to check on her. What he found had him quickly undoing her restraints. He caught her as she fell forward. She was still conscious but unresponsive. Sam's back was slick with blood and she felt clammy to the touch. He carried her over the narrow bed pushed up against the far wall and lay her down on her stomach. 

"Triana, get in here now," he called out. 

"What's wrong," she asked as she entered the room. 

"She's going into shock," Lewis said angrily. "Dammit, the little bitch will never tell me what I need to know in this condition. Keep an eye on her while I go get my equipment." 

As soon as he left the room, Triana bent close to Sam and whispered in her ear. 

"Lewis is being too kind to you," she hissed. "If he'd just give me ten minutes alone with you, I'd have you begging to tell him where his son is." 

Triana grabbed a handful of Sam's long black hair and yanked it away from where it stuck to the wounds on her back. She wanted to hear Sam cry out with pain but was disappointed when the woman never so much as blinked. Still believing that she was somehow faking her condition, Triana reached over and traced her nails across the welts on the woman's back. Sam's breath hitched once and then her eyes rolled back in her head as she passed out. Triana quickly slipped off the edge of the bed when she heard Lewis coming back. 

"Go out and fill a basin with warm water and bring some towels," he ordered. 

Lewis didn't comment when he saw that Sam was now unconscious, but his eyes grew hard when he saw the marks Triana had left. When she returned, he waited until she had set the water down and then stood and knocked her halfway across the room. 

"If you touch her again, I'll send you packing," he snarled. 

"I just wanted to make sure she wasn't faking," Triana said as she got back onto her feet. "The little slut has no right to keep you from your heir." 

"Leave her to me," Lewis said, somewhat mollified. 

He washed the blood from Sam's back and then poured some disinfectant over the open wounds. Sam moaned and tried to move away but Lewis quickly grabbed onto her by the waistband of her jeans. He easily held her down while he poured more of the liquid on her back. Although he was doing it to keep an infection from making her too sick to cooperate, Lewis took a perverse pleasure in seeing the pain she continued to suffer. Lewis rummaged through his bag until he pulled out a syringe and a small bottle filled with a dark green liquid. He injected the solution into Sam's arm and then sat back and waited. The effect was almost instantaneous. 

"Welcome back, Samantha," he said as her eyes opened and slowly began to focus. He smiled as she moaned again with pain. 

"Are you ready to talk to me now?" 

"I'll die before I tell you anything." 

"Actually you won't," Lewis said as he stroked an uninjured spot on her back. "You'll pray for it and eventually beg for it, but you won't die. I won't let you. At some point, you're going to tell me everything I want to know. You're mine, Samantha, and I'll do whatever it takes to make you talk." 

As if to prove his point, his hand snaked beneath her body and he worked open the snap and zipper on her jeans. She was helpless to stop him as he roughly pulled the loose fitting jeans down across her hips. 

"I'll tell you," she gasped just as he pushed his hand between her legs. "Closer . . . come closer." 

Lewis bent forward until his breath blew warm against her cheek. Sam turned her head just enough so that she could see his face. 

"He looked just like you, Lewis," she told him. "Until I smashed the rock into his face." 

"No," Lewis screamed as he grabbed Sam and threw her over onto her back. Even the agonizing pain that slammed into her couldn't stop the joy that flooded through her as his hands closed around her throat and began squeezing. She had done it. He would kill her now and Adam would be safe. 

"We're just wasting time here," Jeff said for the fifth time in as many minutes. 

They had arrived at Charlie Wallace's trailer only to find it totally deserted. Jeff had wanted to immediately move along but Tom had continued walking around and inspecting things. 

"What does he think he's going to find," Jeff asked Sloan. He couldn't hide his impatience at the delay. He needed to get moving. He knew all too well that the longer it took them to find Lewis the more danger Sam would be in. 

"Tom has certain . . . talents," Sloan said softly. She could see that Jeff was quickly reaching the boiling point. She had already totally circumvented Attwood's authority when she let Jeff's sister Molly take Adam to hide him. The child, with his mix of human and new species DNA, should have been whisked back to the Institute immediately for studying. But Sloan had never even consulted him. Now, the next step she was planning to take was going to infuriate him even more when he found out. 

"Lewis is not one of us," Sloan began. She quickly filled Jeff in on the discovery she had made several months ago. She left nothing out. 

"Tom is one of them?" 

Jeff's head whipped around and he gave Tom Daniels a much closer look. 

"He's risked everything to help us, to help me," Sloan explained. 

"So you say," he replied. 

 Sloan almost smiled. He sounded so much like Ed at that moment. 

"So I say," she echoed and then she did smile. "He's one of the good guys, Jeff." 

"What does he hope to accomplish by standing here examining every damn blade of grass? Sam isn't here. Probably has never been here." 

"But Lewis was. Tom picked up on that as soon as he set foot out of the car. And he wasn't alone." 

Tom stood staring at the trailer, gleaning everything he could from it. No, Lewis hadn't been alone. Triana, his first student, was now with him. That didn't bode well for Samantha Wexford. If Tom was Lewis' most dangerous assassin, then Triana was his most decadents. She would stop at nothing to satisfy her mentor and, if the rumors were true, her lover. No, Samantha's survival rate had gone down considerably in Tom's estimation. 

"Lewis, stop before you kill her!" 

Triana had rushed into the room when she'd heard Lewis scream. She had launched herself across the room as fast as she could and began to try and pull him off the woman. 

"You'll never know what happened to your son if you don't let go of her right now," Triana yelled. She pounded on Lewis' back in hopes of bringing him back to his senses. 

"Damn you," he screamed as he dragged Sam from the bed and threw her to the floor. She lurched to her knees, coughing and gasping for breath. 

"Watch her," he ordered. "If she so much as blinks, you have my permission to kick her senseless." 

Lewis failed to see the look of pure joy that settled on Triana's face as he turned and left the room. Sam was still struggling to get her breath when Triana's foot slammed into thigh and sent her crashing to the floor. The second blow caught her in the ribs. Sam tried to craw away but once again Triana kicked her legs out from under her. Finally Sam curled into a tight ball and Triana left her alone. 

She had no idea how long she lay there. At one point, she actually drifted off for a bit but jerked awake when Triana threw Sam's shirt at her. 

"Put that on now," Triana ordered her, "and fix your damn pants. I'm sick of looking at your pathetic body." 

When Sam continued to just lay there, Triana roughly hauled her up and jammed her arms into the sleeves of her shirt. She smiled when Sam gasped as the material touched the open wounds on her back. After pulling up and fastening her jeans, Triana shoved Sam back down to the floor. 

"I know why Lewis is doing this," Sam said. "But what's in it for you, Triana?" 

"Shut up!" 

"Do you like seeing him with other women? Did you watch the tapes he made when he raped me, Triana? Did it turn you on?" 

"I said shut up," Triana yelled. 

But Sam continued to bait her. 

"Or maybe you like the rough stuff," Sam said. "Yeah, you liked watching him beat me, didn't you? I could smell you all over him when he came back into the room. You could hardly wait to get him into bed after that little episode." 

"One more word and I'll . . ." 

"You'll what, Triana? Kill me? Go ahead. Do it! DO IT!" 

 Sam was on her feet now. She stood toe to toe with Triana as she screamed her final words. She could see the battle the woman was fighting with herself. Triana wanted to hurt her even kill her. 

"Move away from her, Triana." 

Both women turned to see Lewis standing in the doorway to the room. He was shirtless and his body was slick with sweat and covered with muddy streaks. He was smiling and Sam's stomach lurched painfully as he walked toward her. 

"I've given you every chance to cooperate," he said as he reached out and took hold of her upper arm in a painful grip. "I've run out of patience. So, I think it will do us both good to have a sort of cooling off period." 

"I'll be glad to keep out of your way," Sam told him as he practically dragged her across the room. "Just give me directions and I'll be on my way." 

"Down," Lewis said coldly. 

Sam's initial confusion over his statement was cleared up as soon as they got outside. Night was just starting to settle in and in the last glow of twilight Sam could see the hole in the ground just up ahead. As they moved closer, she saw that it was some kind of dried up cistern. 

"Your new accommodations," Lewis said as he forced her to lean forward and look down into the dirt packed hole. 

"No," she cried even as he grabbed hold of her wrists and pushed her over the edge. She dangled inside the hole for several seconds as she held onto his hands in a death grip. But finally, the pressure on her arms grew too great and she started to slip. She dropped down to the bottom with a bone-jarring thud. The sound of Lewis' cruel laughter drifted away and she was alone in her dank prison. 

Jeff paced up and down in his living room like a caged animal. Much to his disgust, they had returned to his ranch for the night to regroup. 

"You're wearing a rut in the floor," Sloan told him. Her sympathetic smile kept him from venting his steadily building temper in her direction. 

"I can't shake this feeling that we're going to be too late," he said. "It's been two days since she disappeared from the mine. He could have taken her out of the state by now." 

"He won't do that," Tom said quietly. 

"Why the hell not?" 

"Because he has to realize that Sam wouldn't stray too far from where the child is." 

It made sense. Jeff stopped pacing and turned to look at Tom as he continued speaking. 

"At the same time, he would be looking to take her to some remote location. He doesn't want anyone interrupting his interrogation." 

Jeff's blood ran cold. What a polite word for what Lewis would be doing to Sam to force her to tell him where Adam was. He had participated in too many interrogations to count during his tour in 'Nam. Nothing was considered off limits when you needed to break down a person in order to make them reveal their secrets to you. The longer Sam remained in his hands, the less chance there was that she would survive. 

"There's not too many spots in this area of Arizona that aren't remote," Jeff said in frustration. 

Sloan had been quiet during their exchange. She had pulled out the list of names and address they had been checking out until they found Jeff. Suddenly she started to smile. 

"He's got to be in or around Phoenix," she announced. "Look at the address' on our list." 

Both men glanced at the list she stuck under their noses and then looked back at her with twin looks of confusion. 

"It's right there," she said. "Phoenix would be the logical choice for a command center as it were. Everywhere they wanted to go was in a fifty mile radius from there." 

"She's right," Jeff said a moment later. He had to laugh at the look Sloan shot him. 

"So where could Lewis hide out in or nearby Phoenix," she asked. Her smile told Jeff he was forgiven. 

 Jeff bent over her shoulder and stared at the Arizona map. 

"I would head right here." 

Sloan and Tom leaned forward to see just where he was pointing. 

"Camelback Mountains?" 

"Yeah," Jeff said. "There are cabins and some trailers spread out in and around the foothills in that area. You could probably go for weeks without being bothered by someone out there." 

"Sounds like the perfect place for Lewis," Sloan said. "I think we should get moving in that direction." 

"You're talking about a large area," Jeff warned them. 

"Then it may be best if we spread out once we get there," Sloan suggested. "Think you can get your truck up and running?" 

"Yeah," Jeff said. He was glad to have something to do instead of just sitting there and waiting for morning. He knew sleeping was out of the question at the moment. "If you can help me push it into the yard Tom, I'll get working on it right now." 

"Sure thing," the other man agreed. "I may even be able to help you find out what the problem is." 

"Another talent your species has over us," Jeff asked. 

"No, just the result of being interesting in how things work," Tom said with a short laugh."  

Sloan was still sitting and contemplating the map when the two of them headed out. She wanted to have a well thought out plan in place when they took off at first light. Samantha Wexford's continued existence most likely depended on their ability to get to her as quickly as possible. 

She had never been so cold in her life. Sam huddled on the floor of her dirt prison and shivered uncontrollably. She had no idea how long she had been down here. It felt like hours. It had still been warm when Lewis had first put her in there. 

"I could do with a little of the heat now," she said aloud. 

 She pulled her shirt tighter around her in spite of the increased pain in her back. Sam struggled to her feet on cramped and stiff legs and tried to move around a bit. Not that there was anywhere to go. The opening was much too far up for her to climb out. She was never going to be able to get out of there on her own. 

"You're a real shithead, Lewis," she yelled toward the top. Not that he would respond. He and Triana had stayed far away from her since tossing her down. The two of them had probably started going at it again as soon as she was out of the way. It seemed as though their sexual urges increased in direct ratio to the pain they inflicted on her. The way she felt now, the two of them might be in danger of killing themselves before they were sated. 

Sam didn't think there was any part of her body that didn't hurt. But worst of all was her back. Every time she so much as twitched, the pain slammed into her. She slowly lowed herself back down into a sitting position but still was uncomfortable. Finally she lay down on her side and curled up into a tight ball. As soon as she began to warm up a bit, Sam drifted into an uneasy sleep. 

She was still out when Lewis shone a light down on her about three hours later. She moaned and hunched up a shoulder when the light fell across her face, but remained asleep. He finally shut the light off and then walked slowly back into the house.  

Moon Dancer lay on the ground behind a pile of rocks and watched as the man stood in his yard and shined a big flashlight down an old cistern. What was he looking at for so long down there? As soon as the stranger left and went back inside, Moon Dancer crept out from his hiding place. He made his way silently over to where the man had stood. Yes, it was an old cistern with the cover off. That was dangerous. Something could fall down there. 

"Wonder if he has some kind of animal trapped down there already," the boy mumbled to himself. He lay down on his stomach and looked over the side. The three-quarter moon made the landscape quite bright but not enough to reach more than halfway down. Moon Dancer was just about to give up when he heard a noise coming from the bottom of the large hole. What was that? 

He wiggled around until he could reach the small flashlight in his front pocket. Holding it down inside the cistern so that the light couldn't be seen, the boy quickly flicked it on. There was something down there! He held the dim light down as far as he could and nearly dropped it when he saw the white woman lying curled up in the bottom of the hole. How had she gotten in there? And why hadn't the man helped her? But most importantly, how could he get her out of there? 

"I have some water for you two to put in your car," Jeff said. "No one travels around here without an ample supple of the stuff in case you run into problems on the road." 

"Thanks," Tom said as he helped him load the two five gallon jugs into the back seat. 

They had mapped out their route the night before as soon as he and Tom had came back in from the yard. His truck was in better shape than it had been for years. Tom hadn't lied when he said he had a way with cars. They were ready to take off at first light. 

"Did you stow the first aid gear I gave you?" 

"In the trunk," Sloan assured him. They all knew that Samantha could be in pretty bad shape by the time they got to her. 

"Okay then, let's get moving." 

As he drove along, Jeff went over the map he had drawn pretty much from memory. He'd been hiking on Camelback most of his life but it had been over four years since his last trip. He'd talked about going, even made plans with his buddies for a week long excursion, but his writing had started to take off and his life had no longer been quite exactly his. Oh, he enjoyed the writing. God, he never felt so good as when his story was simmering. But the publicity tours that followed were a pain in his butt. Cross-country trips to meet and greet his fans were fun at first but then the drudgery set in after the first few days. By the time he got back to the ranch he wasn't fit for human company for quite some time. By then, a new story would be tugging at his brain and he'd be off and running again in front of his computer. 

"Where are you keeping her, Lewis," he said aloud. "Which one of those remote little cabins are you using as your current torture chamber?" 

The thought of that animal having Sam in his clutches again was almost more than Jeff could bear. He thought he'd left his killing instincts behind him when he'd managed to survive his tours in 'Nam. But over the past two days they had come rushing to the surface and now he was about to erupt. Thank God he had kept in shape over the years. No, he certainly wasn't that finely tuned killing machine that had prowled the jungles all those years ago. But he would be up to the task at hand. Yeah, he was waiting for an opportunity to meet face to face with this Lewis guy. The grin that had settled onto his face was frightening enough to have anyone unlucky enough to pass by his truck hit the accelerator and zoom past.  

"Wake up, Samantha." 

No, she moaned even as her eyes opened. She slowly pushed herself up into a sitting position. She had stiffened up quite a bit during the night. But at least she wasn't freezing anymore. 

"Grab onto this rope and I'll pull you up," he called down to her. 

Talk about being between a rock and a hard place, Sam thought. If she stayed down here she would most likely freeze, starve or sweat to death. However, if she reached for the rope she would spend more time with Lewis and Triana. 

"Grab the damn rope," Lewis yelled again when she continued to just sit there. It dangled less than six inches from her. 

Sam scooted back against the nearest wall. No way was she going to voluntarily put herself into his hands. Lewis moved out of sight and she took a deep breath. She didn't know if she was up to going another round with him. She was sore, tired and starving. Add the fact that her bladder was near to the bursting point it was obvious that she was at a great disadvantage. What seemed like an hour had passed before Sam heard a scrapping sound at the top of the hole. Suddenly a wood and rope ladder dropped over the side. Lewis swung his leg over and began to descend. 

"You continue to make things harder on yourself, Samantha," he told her as he stepped down onto the ground in front of her. He reached down and yanked her to her feet. She bit back a cry of pain as her numerous injuries made their presence known. 

"Start climbing." 

He pushed her toward the opposite side of her prison. Sam attempted to reach and grab hold of the rope but stopped when the movement caused hot flashes of pain to radiate from her back. 

"I can't," she told him. 

"Toss the rope back down, Triana," he called up. He kept his hand on Sam's shoulder until the rope drifted down. Before she could stop him, Lewis quickly grabbed hold of her hands and lashed her wrists tightly together. When she realized what he meant to do, Sam struggled to free herself as he climbed back up the ladder. Once he climbed back over the edge, he yanked on the rope and her hands were pulled up over her head. Sam screamed in agony as the wounds on her back tore open again and her bladder emptied as he dragged her slowly to the top. 

"You stink," he sneered as he pulled her to her feet and shoved her forward. 

Sam stumbled and then righted herself. They kept her between them as they walked back into the house. 

"Did you enjoy your time away from me, Samantha," Lewis asked as he pushed her down into a straight chair. 

"Yes, I haven't slept that well in a long time," she replied. "Oh, not counting the time your concubine drugged me that is." 

Her remark once again had the desired effect. Triana swung around and came charging toward her. Lewis stopped her before she inflicted too much damage, but nevertheless, Sam ending up on the floor with her ears ringing from a painful blow to the side of her head. 

"I wish you'd send her to obedience school, Lewis," Sam said as she pulled herself back into the chair. "Or at least keep her chained up when you're entertaining." 

"And I wish you would use that sharp tongue of yours to tell me what I want to hear," Lewis told her. 

"It will never happen." 

"Oh but it will, Samantha," he said as he stroked her cheek. "Maybe not today or the next, but soon. You won't like living down in the hole for long." 

"It beats hanging out with you and the Hulk," Sam said with a bitter laugh. "I'm starting to get bruises on top of my bruises." 

She gasped when he suddenly grabbed hold of the front of her shirt and ripped it open. Buttons went flying as he hauled her up and pushed her face first into the nearby wall. He yanked the shirt down off her shoulders and exposed her ruined back. 

"This doesn't look good," he said. She flinched violently as he poked and prodded several of the bloody welts. "No, I would say that you're developing quite a nice infection. Give it a few more days down in that hole and you'll be ranting and raving. I'll find out everything I need to know then." 

As soon as he stepped away from her, Sam spun around and launched herself at him. He let out a startled yell and she pounded on his chest with her bound hands. She landed several good blows before he hauled off and crashed his fist into her stomach. Sam collapsed to the floor gasping for breath. 

"I was going to let you have something to eat and drink," he said. "But you forfeited that privilege now. I think it's time you go back where you belong." 

Lewis lowered her back into the dirt prison and then dropped the rope down in after her. She glared up at him as he continued to stare down at her. 

"Since you don't seem to have any control over your bodily functions, I guess I'll have to give you a little help or live with the stench," he said with a icy cold smile. Seconds later Triana dumped a large bucket of water down on top of her. 

Once she heard them move away, Sam quickly lifted the bottom of her shirtfront and sucked out as much water as she could. She didn't stop until she couldn't get anymore. Unfortunately, she had only partially quenched her thirst. 

By mid-afternoon Sam felt like she was in a sauna. Her damp jeans clung to her and made her feel even hotter. She was perspiring heavily and the salty sweat stung her back. Not giving a damn about modesty, she worked the shirt up and over her head and balled it up at her bound wrists. It cooled her off a bit until the sun moved directly overhead and began burning her exposed flesh. She wiggled back into the shirt for the time being. 

Sometime during the long, hot afternoon she slipping into a heat induced nap. When she work up she was once again in the shade. Sam quickly hauled off the shirt again for a while. She felt very lethargic and knew that she was getting dehydrated. Evidently, Lewis was thinking along the same lines. She heard the sound of someone walking toward the hole and then she was soaked by another bucket of water. Ignoring the fact that she was now sitting in mud, Sam immediately began sucking the water from her balled up shirt. Once again, it did little to quench her ravenous thirst. 

"You're just giving me enough to keep me alive, you bastard," she muttered and she sunk back down into the drying mud. And she was too hot and tired to resist drinking what little he gave her. God, she was hot. Even now that the sun was no long beating down in the hole, she still felt like she was burning up. 

She drifted off to sleep again just as the sun was setting. The temperatures dropped sharply but Sam never moved even when she began shivering with the cold and goose bumps broke out over her exposed flesh.  

Jeff had split up from Sloan and Tom and each took off to investigate their agreed upon areas. He spent the day checking every cabin, trailer and shack he came upon. By mid-afternoon his frustration nearly consumed him. Nothing. Most of the places were deserted. If he happened to run into one of the locals they just looked at him suspiciously before telling him that they hadn't seen this guy he called Lewis. 

"You've got to be somewhere," Jeff said as he pounded his fist on the dashboard. 

Time was running out. He could feel it in his bones. Where would he have taken her if he were holding Sam hostage? 

"It would have to be some place that I could completely control," Jeff mused. His face was a mask of concentration as he worked out the scenario. "I couldn't risk anyone inadvertently stumbling across my path. No, I want total privacy while I interrogate her. She's going to scream so I have to make sure that no nosy neighbors are close by. I need some place that I can come and go freely back and forth from. Off the beaten path." 

Once again he consulted the map. Maybe he was totally off base. Maybe Lewis had thrown her into the trunk of his car and driven out in the middle of nowhere. 

"No, that's not your style," Jeff sneered. "You want Sam all to yourself. You need to dominate her, terrorize her. Can't do that out in the open, no matter how remote an area you find. No, you're holed up somewhere near this damn mountain. It's just to perfect a setting for you." 

He turned the key in the ignition and set off again on his desperate search. 

Little Moon Dancer felt like the night was never going to come. He'd spent the day gathering things that he would take back with him tonight. It wasn't easy. His grandfather had been keeping a sharp eye on him most of the day. His chore list was finally dwindling down and once he helped Popi pick and sort out some of his herbs he could finally say he was tired and was going to go to bed early for a change. 

"Not feeling sick are you Moon Dancer?" 

"No, Popi, you just wore me out today," the boy said as he faked a huge yawn. 

"Well, then it's best you turn in. We have a lot of work to accomplish tomorrow. I have to start getting my poultices and herb bags together." 

Moon Dancer gave his grandfather a hug and then headed toward his bedroom. He stayed in his clothes and just pulled the covers up over them. When his grandfather stopped in to check on him in a bit, everything looked normal. 

"Sleep well, little Moon Dancer. May the spirits keep you safe." 

A short time later the boy slipped out the window in his room. He gathered the things he had stowed in the bush beneath his window and then raced down to the cabin. 

"Are you awake," he called out softly as he leaned over the edge. Moon Dancer quickly switched on his flashlight. The beam was brighter tonight. He'd put a new battery in it as soon as he had woken up that morning. What he saw scared him. The woman was lying curled up at the bottom of the hole again. This time she didn't have any shirt on and he could see her back. Someone had whipped her! There were marks and bloody cuts all over her back. 

"Lady, can you hear me?"  

Sam moaned and struggled to open her eyes. She felt lightheaded and sick. She was also more than a little disoriented. 

 "Lady, please wake up." 

"Lewis?" Her voice sounded weak and raspy. 

"My name is, Moon Dancer, Johnny Moon Dancer," he called down softly. "I came to help you." 

"I won't tell," she said. She squinted up at the light and couldn't see anything beyond that. "I'll never tell you anything. Lewis thinks I'll talk to a little boy but I won't." 

"I'm going to go get help," the boy told her. 

"No, no wait, don't leave me," she called up to him. "Don't leave me down here." 

"Only for a little while," he told her. "I have to get my grandfather." 

"No, no, don't come back here," she said. "He can't find you Adam. Run away, run away now!" 

"My name's Moon Dancer," he told her again. "Who's Adam?" 

"I won't tell on you, Adam. Lewis can do whatever he wants to me but I won't tell. You'll be safe." 

Moon Dancer knew that something was very wrong with the lady trapped in the hole. Maybe she had hit her head. Or maybe she was sick from those sores on her back. But she was acting really loco. 

"I bought you some water," he said. "I'm going to drop it down to you now." 

"Thank you," she said as he lowered the bottle that he'd tied to some heavy cord. She grabbed it and immediately began gulping down her first real drink in days. As soon as she had drained it down, he pulled it back up. 

"I'm going to have to go now," he told her again. "I . . ." 

What was that? 

"Someone's coming," the frightened boy called down to her. "I have to go." 

He scrambled up and raced like mad toward his usual hiding place. He'd barely made it back there when the man he'd seen the night before came walking out of the house. He walked right over to the cistern and flicked on his high-powered flashlight. 

"You don't look so good, Samantha," he said. "Aren't you cold sitting there naked like that?" 

"Hot," she muttered and turned away from the bright light. Why was it so hot? And why couldn't she keep things straight in her head? She thought she'd talked to a little boy just a minute ago. But that was crazy. Wasn't it? 

"Have you changed your mind about talking with me yet," he asked. "It's going to be a long, cold night down there." 

"I like the cold. It snows when it's cold. I love to catch the flakes." 

 She suddenly pushed herself to her feet and held her hands out in front of her. She stared skyward as if waiting for the snow to begin. She looked to be very unsteady on her feet. 

 Lewis stared as she smiled up at him. Her infuriating control finally seemed to be slipping. Maybe he would get some answers now. 

"Yes, a big blizzard is coming, Samantha. Will the baby be all right? Tell me where the baby is and I'll get him for you." 

"He's right here," she said. She suddenly pulled back her arms and cradled her bunched up shirt against her breast as if she was nursing it. "He's fine." 

"Are you feeding him now, Samantha?" 

"Yes, he's very hungry." 

"What's his name, Samantha," Lewis asked. 

"Who's name," she said as she dropped her arms down in front of her. 

"The baby, Samantha. You're baby." 

"The baby's dead, Lewis," she said in a moment of total clarity. "I killed it." 

"Damn you," he yelled as she stared up at him. 

He flicked the flashlight off, plunging her back into darkness. She waited until she heard him leave before she slumped to the ground. She was too weak to stand any longer. He'd almost gotten her to talk. Oh God, what if she had told him? And if she didn't get away from him soon, she was going to. It was getting harder and harder to think. Her head was pounding and she felt so sick. When the water cascaded down on her moments later she almost sobbed in relief as it momentarily cooled her burning flesh. But it wasn't long before the night air had her feeling like she was encased in ice. Although it was wet too, Sam worked until she finally managed to pull her shirt back on. At least now the cold night air wouldn't blow on her chilled flesh. 

"I have to go now, lady," Moon Dancer told her when he snuck back over to the hole. "I'll bring my grandfather back and we'll get you out of there." 

"Never getting out," she sobbed. "So cold, so cold." 

"I'll be back," he promised as he slipped back into the darkness. "My grandfather and I are going to get you out of there." 

Another long night had passed. Another night that Sam spent with Lewis because he couldn't find her. Jeff was filled with hatred for his unseen enemy. 

"We struck out too," Sloan told him when they met up at the designated time and place. "It's starting to look like we may have been mistaken." 

"No, he's in the area," Tom said slowly. "I can feel his presence." 

"It's a shame you can't fine-tune those sensors of yours," Jeff said angrily. "We could do with some help right about now." 

Sloan felt like she was back in her role as mediator again as the two went at each other. 

"I'm not some damn radar machine you can flip off and on," Tom said. "I can sense him. That should be enough. You're the one who came off like Betty Crockett with your maps and trails." 

"Betty Crockett?" Jeff laughed in spite of the seriousness of the situation. "Not quite up on your American history are you, pal?" 

"Davy Crockett," Sloan said as she fought to hold back her own giggle. "Betty Crocker is the cook." 

"I knew that," Tom said with a wry smile. 

"Right," Jeff and Sloan said together.  

"He's here and he's getting frustrated," Tom told them. "He didn't think she would be able to hold out this long." 

"We've got to get her away from him before he destroys her," Jeff said. "We only covered close to half of the places yesterday where he could be holding her. We have to move faster." 

"It's not that easy," Sloan said. "Everything is so spread out here." 

"One of Arizona's charms and one of her curses," Jeff muttered. Hadn't he settled here for just that reason? He couldn't stand big cities where everyone lived practically on top of each other. 

"I'm going to work my way closer to the foothills," Jeff told them. "That's the most desolate area around here." 

Sloan and Tom checked their maps again and then they parted.  

Moon Dancer took a deep breath and then looked across the table at his grandfather. 

"We have to help her, Popi." 

"We do not interfere in the white man's business." 

They had been fighting over this throughout the day. Now, as they sat sharing their evening meal, he was going to give it one more try. 

"She will die, Popi. He whipped her like she was a worthless cur and threw her into an abandoned cistern." He didn't want to cry but when he remembered how hurt and afraid the woman had been he couldn't help it. 

"I will go with you," Johonaa'ei finally said. He could see how much it meant to the boy. His dealings with the white man had never netted him anything but trouble. Even during the Great War when he had been lauded as a Code Talker, he had not fit into their world. Now, he would be involving himself in their affairs again. And this time, he knew that he was dealing with a strong and merciless dark spirit. He would make sure that both he and the child were wearing the proper amulets before they left. 

"We will wait for nightfall," he said, speaking slowly as he thought out their plan. "We will need the cover of night to protect ourselves and the woman." 

"Thank you, Popi," the boy cried as he threw himself into the old man's arms. "We need to get her away that evil man as fast as we can."  

When Lewis made his way out to the cistern, he heard humming coming from deep inside it. He had left Sam alone throughout the day to think about her situation. He'd sent Triana out twice to douse her with more water to keep her alive long enough to talk to him. 

He stood at the top of the well and listened for a moment as she continued her tuneless humming. 

"How are you feeling, my dear," he finally called down to her. She completely ignored him as she sat rocking back and forth. Sometime during the night she had pulled her shirt back on again. Her long black hair hung down in long filthy strands over her face as she bent forward slightly. 

"Would you like something to eat and drink, Samantha?" 

A sudden harsh, wracking cough was her only response. Lewis hooked up the rope ladder he kept in the house and tossed it over the side. He was going to make sure that she wasn't faking. He grabbed hold of her arm and immediately felt the heat coming off of her. She was burning up. 

"Tell me where my son is, Samantha," he said as he crouched down in front of her. 

 She shook her head and scooted back away from him.  

"Can't." 

"Yes you can, Samantha. Your very sick and you can't take care of him anymore." 

"I want to go home, now," she said. She lifted her head and finally looked at him. "Did you come to take me home?" 

She coughed hard again and he reached out to steady her. She suddenly leaned forward and rested her head against his shoulder. 

"I'm so tired." 

"I know," he said as he stroked her cheek. Perhaps a new, gentler tactic would finally get him what he wanted. "You can go to sleep as soon as you tell me about the baby." 

"It hurt when he came," she sighed. "I hated him." 

"But then you took care of him, right? You washed him and nursed him." 

"No." 

"Yes, you did, Samantha. You showed me yesterday how you nursed him." He moved her bound hands toward her breast as he had seen her do yesterday. Her face softened for a moment but then he felt her body stiffen. 

"No," she said more emphatically and jerked away from him. "I hated him. I didn't want to see his face." 

"Tell me where he is," Lewis said softly. 

She looked up at him again and frowned. He could almost see the exact moment when her mind cleared and she remembered where she was. 

"Get away from me you bastard," she yelled and immediately began coughing again. 

"You won't be able to last much longer down here," he told her as he stood. "Soon I'll bring your sick and broken body back up into the house. When you are no longer able to fight me, I will find out where my son is and then I'll slash your throat and leave you here to die when I go get him." 

"You'll never hold you son in your arms, Lewis. He'll grow up without knowing you ever existed." 

She simply shut down after he grabbed hold of her arm and snapped her wrist. Sam slumped to the ground and lay there unmoving when Lewis climbed back to the surface. 

They rode side by side though the moonless night. The spirits had been with them and dark clouds blotted out the moon. 

"We will have to move very quickly once we get there, Moon Dancer." 

"I know, Grandfather. We have to get her far away from here before we are found out. The spirits are gathering," he said, as he looked skyward. "A fierce battle will be waged tonight." 

Johonaa'ei watched the boy as he was taken by the trance. His young face went lax and his brown eyes turned black. 

"She is growing weak and the darkness is hovering all around her. She is very near to leaving this body." 

"Are we right to interfere with that," the old man asked slowly. 

"We must save her," the boy replied in a monotone voice very unlike his own. He blinked several times and then looked over at his grandfather. "Was I dream walking again, Popi?" 

"Yes," he said and felt a joyous surge in his heart. The spirits touched the boy and his heart was pure. "Hurry, we haven't much time." 

He wanted to leave their horses a distance away from the house but realized that neither he nor the boy would be able to pull the woman out of the deep cistern by their own efforts. He left Moon Dancer's horse behind and carefully led his own horse close to the hole. 

"We came back for you, lady," Moon Dancer called down. He became frightened when she didn't answer. 

Johonaa'ei quickly tied an end of the rope they brought with them around the boy's waist and lowered him into the hole. The child flicked his flashlight on once he was halfway down and he saw the lady lying very still. As soon as his feet touched the ground he raced over to her. 

"Come on, lady," he whispered. "We're going to get out of here now." 

Sam opened her eyes but there was no life in them. She stared unseeing as the child leaned over her. Her shirt hung open and the boy lowered his eyes as he pulled it together and then tied it in front like he remembered his mama had done many times in the summer heat. 

"This next part is going to hurt your back real bad," he told her as he gently stroked her cheek. "But then you'll be out of here and that man won't ever hurt you again." 

His grandfather told him to take the rope from around his own waist and then loop it under the woman's arms so that he could haul her up. It took him several minutes to do it because she was no help at all. Finally he tugged three times, the signal they agreed on and his grandfather led his mount backwards and started pulling her out of the cistern. Moon Dancer stood and waited until the rope snaked down once again. He looped it under his arms and tugged. Within seconds he was back up topside. 

"Is she okay, Popi," he asked immediately. When he went to kneel down beside her, Moon Dancer saw that his grandfather had wrapped her in one of the thick blankets they'd brought with them. 

"She is very weak and badly injured," Johonaa'ei told him. "We must get her away from here quickly and begin the healing rituals before it is too late." 

Moments later he rode off, holding Sam gently in front of him. Moon Dancer carefully brushed their tracks away as he swiftly made his was back to his own mount. He hung over the side and kept wiping away all traces of their passing until they reached rocker ground. The moon slowly started to come out from behind the clouds as they made their way home. 

Lewis woke up slowly as the sun filtered into the room and moved across the bed. He smiled as he untangled himself from the still sleeping Triana. She had provided him with ample distraction when he'd come back in from speaking to Samantha last night. He had brutally taken out his frustrations on her and she had taken it and returned it in kind until the two of them were thoroughly sated. He had slept soundly until the sun stuck him in the eyes and woke him. 

"No, stay there," he told Triana when she made a motion to get up. "I'm just going to check on our houseguest and then I'll be back." 

"I'll be waiting," she called after him. Her sultry tone had him turning back at the door. He took the image of her wantonly sexual pose with him as he went outside. 

"I feel like today is going to be the day, Samantha," he said aloud as he made his way over to the cistern. "By the end of the day, thanks to you, I will be seeing my son for the first time. It's a shame you won't be around to see the touching father and son reunion." 

He hooked the ends of the makeshift rope and wood ladder to the stakes he had hammered deep into the ground and then tossed it over the edge of the cistern. He turned and looked down into the cistern and froze. She was gone! 

"SA-MAN-THA!!!!" 

His outraged scream echoed over the desolate landscape.