Pushing Up Daisies (7 page)

Daisy grabbed her in a tight embrace. “Don't cry, little one. They might still be alive. They were safe in the basement and they have value alive, not dead. The pirates will try to negotiate with the U.N. for money.”

Sarah opened her hand. Resting in her palm was a golden cobra with ruby eyes. “The ancient Ethiopians worshipped serpents,” Sarah said. “I was hoping for something Christian, some proof Mary Magdalene came this way when she fled the Holy Land.”

Daisy took the golden snake from her and looked at it closely. “Look, Sarah, there's something etched into the bottom of this snake.”

Sarah took the snake from her. She felt suddenly shy in Daisy's presence. Never in her life had she imagined she would engage in her first sexual encounter with another woman. It had been wonderful. Her body still hummed with pleasure, but she felt so shy and embarrassed. She kept her head down as she turned the snake over and examined the flat bottom. She was stunned to see an ancient symbols carved into the gold.

It was illegal in Christ's time to declare yourself a follower so the symbols of the time were unique. Two fish, referring to Christ as the fisherman, and a trident, often thought to be a reference to the cross, were carved into the flat part of the snake's bottom. “This is an ancient Christian symbol,” she said to Daisy. “This might be proof of the Magdalene traveling this way.”

Daisy shook her head. “I wouldn't know. I just saw the carving and wondered if you had.”

“I never looked at it at all.”

She allowed Daisy to pull the dress over her head as though she were a child. Daisy's concern and care of her was comforting. When they were dressed, they sat beside each other, Daisy once more clutching her rifle, and Sarah turning the snake over and over in her hand. It was a very valuable artifact even if it didn't prove ancient Christians passed through Somalia.

A noise from the front of the cave alerted them. “House is back,” Daisy said as he slipped under the low ledge and into the cave.

“Daisy, can I have a word with you?”

Daisy's head dropped as she got up and followed House into the night. Sarah watched her go, her heart and her head a riot of confused emotions. So much had happened in the last day, she felt like a year had passed not just twelve hours. She curled up on the mat with her hand wrapped around the serpent and fell into an exhausted sleep.

* * * *

House had listened to Daisy and Sarah pleasuring each other while watching from just outside the cave. He couldn't believe Daisy allowed that to happen, especially in light of their critical situation. He waited until he was sure all activity had ended, listening to their conversation, before he went in and got her.

When she was standing outside the cave with her head bowed, he tore into her. “I can't believe you put the package in jeopardy like that. What were you thinking?”

“She's not just the package, House. She's a woman and she was hurting. I tried to comfort her and it got out of control.”

House snorted. “I'll say. Did she get to see the rack?”

It was Daisy's turn to snort. “None of your frigging business.” Then she smiled. “You been dying to see my tits ever since we met. Haven't you?”

House grinned. “Hell yeah, any red-blooded man would want a look.”

“The only way that will happen is if we share a chick, you on one side and me on the other. And then you can look, but don't think you can touch.”

House glanced into the cave, ducking to see if Sarah was okay. He saw her sleeping on the mat and had the fleeting image of Sarah in the middle of a Daisy and House sandwich. The image gave him an immediate erection. He coughed and rearranged his equipment belt to hide it.

“I ran thirty miles to the south and found the road to Mogadishu…at least I hope it's the road to Mogadishu. We have a long trek. I'm gonna rest for an hour and then we need to get going.”

“A bird will come for us tonight,” Daisy said. “You'll see.”

House ducked into the cave and flopped down next to Sarah with his back to the wall and a good view of the entrance. Daisy was on guard out front so he felt comfortable enough to shed some of his gear and close his eyes. He'd only been asleep for a few minutes when he felt someone touch him. Instantly awake, he reached for his rifle. But it was only Sarah. She'd inched over and put her head in his lap.

House was strangely touched. He rested a hand on her gold hair and went back to sleep. They were still like that when Daisy woke them both.

“It's been an hour,” she said. She only had to touch House on the shoulder. Waking him suddenly could be dangerous. Sarah was deeply asleep. House had to shake her to get her to respond. She stretched and rolled onto her back with her head still in House's lap. He couldn't believe it. His cock got hard again.

Embarrassed, he gently shoved her head off his lap and stood up. The woman had a weird effect on him. He was usually impervious to feminine charms unless he was in the hunting mode. Lately, he'd been feeling like it was time for him to find a mate. Wolves mated for life and so did werewolves. He'd never had the time, but now a yearning for love and permanence filled him. He found himself dreaming of a woman, one woman, to complete him.

House shook off the strange feeling and gathered the packs while Daisy policed the area and rolled up the mat. When they were ready to go, he took Sarah aside. “This is going to be a hard march. We have to move fast, no stops, no resting. When the sun comes up, we'll need to find shelter or we'll fry. We have a limited amount of water; reaching the road is critical.”

Sarah's blue eyes were huge in her face. House couldn't stop staring into them. Her face was heart-shaped, her nose perfect and her mouth a luscious, plump rosebud. No wonder Daisy jumped her. The sudden memory of the sounds coming from the cave when Daisy had been making love to Sarah froze him with desire. He coughed and looked away…hard again. What a stupid place to become aroused. He was losing it.

Out in the night, the stars over their heads sparkled. There was no moon which was good for hiding from the enemy but bad for a pickup. Sarah couldn't see as well as him and Daisy. She slipped and stumbled going down the path to flat ground. House caught her by the arm and her flesh burned his hand. He almost dropped her.

He made sure he stayed in the front of their small column as they moved across the open plain. Daisy was in the rear, both on heightened alert. This was the most dangerous thing they could do, just walk across the desert. Anyone could find them.

They'd gone about three miles. Sarah lagged behind and Daisy had to help her over some rough ground. They weren't making very good time. House glanced at his watch. It had taken an hour to travel about three miles. They would never make the road at this speed. House was contemplating shifting and running for help when they heard the bird approaching. He knew the sound. It was a Company helicopter.

Daisy pulled Sarah to a rock pile and put her behind it. House and Daisy hadn't survived this long by trusting. House waved to the bird and it began its descent. Relief filled him. The Company had used their chips to track them. They were saved and he could return to the pirate's headquarters to retrieve his fallen comrades.

The bird slowly settled on the desert floor. The door was open and two men gestured to them. House gathered Daisy and Sarah and started for the safety of the helicopter. They were only ten feet away when it exploded. Daisy and House fell on top of Sarah as a screaming band of Bedouins riding horses and camels poured from behind the nearby hills. An ancient Land Rover cleared the hills and skidded to a stop beside House. An older Bedouin wearing white robes and a white turban climbed out of the Rover carrying a bazooka from World War Two. A thin stream of smoke still drifted from the barrel.

House leaped to his feet and lunged at the Bedouin. He'd just destroyed one of the Company's helicopters and killed the pilot and the team inside. Two more Bedouins leaped off their horses and grabbed House under the arms. House growled and lunged for the older man. The two holding him struggled. Three more men had to join them to subdue him. House stopped fighting and checked for Daisy and Sarah hoping against hope they'd escaped.

He saw Daisy with her arms around Sarah trying to protect her. They were separated. Daisy was tossed on the back of a camel and Sarah was tossed on a horse behind a Bedouin fighter. House was dragged to the Land Rover and shoved into the back seat, as the entire band closed ranks around the old vehicle and headed west.

The band of nomads tied House's hands behind his back but didn't cover his eyes or bag his head. He twisted in his seat to check on Daisy and saw she too was bound. The Bedouins knew her for a warrior. Sarah was not tied up. She clung to the man in front of her, easily riding behind him on the horse's rump as though she'd been doing it all her life.

* * * *

Sarah knew how to ride. After the shock of their capture wore off, she began enjoying the feel of a horse under her again. Her father had sent her to riding academy in England and in Israel. When they were in places like Japan and Turkey, she still found somewhere to ride.

The rider in front of her was a young man. He made rude comments about her and Daisy to a companion in Sudanese Arabic. Sarah could easily follow it. She considered making an equally rude comment about the young man's family and decided not to let them know she understood what they were saying.

The camel Daisy rode on was led by her young Bedouin's companion. She glanced over at Daisy and saw they'd secured her by tying her hands in front of her. This was apparently so she could hang on. Poor Daisy's face was bruised and her lip swollen. She'd tried to protect Sarah and received a beating as a result. The Bedouins recognized Daisy as a warrior. They hadn't tied up Sarah so she figured they didn't consider her a threat which was classic Muslim behavior; little respect for women. Well they'd underestimated her.

The ride wore on until dawn. Sarah fell asleep with her arms around her captor and her face against his smelly robe. He reeked of goat and sweat. When the horse abruptly stopped, she woke up. Her entire body was stiff and the insides of her legs badly chafed. Why had she worn the dress?

They'd arrived at the nomads' camp. Tents sprouted out of the arid plain. Behind the tents, hundreds of camels moaned, groaned and grazed off the sparse vegetation. They were a noisy and constantly moving sea of creatures. As soon as Sarah saw the camels, she realized who these people were. They were the Rizeigat, a group of Sudanese nomads disenfranchised by war and their own government. They raised camels.

This seemed pretty far east for them to wander. But Bedouins knew no boundaries or borders. They'd traveled freely through different countries for centuries.

She fell off the horse when the Bedouin in front of her dismounted. Her legs were so stiff and sore, she couldn't hang on. From her position on the ground beside the tired horse, she searched for House and Daisy. She spotted House being dragged out of the only vehicle they seemed to possess, and a Bedouin warrior pushing Daisy into one of the tents.

Her Bedouin, she now knew his name was Gadim, lifted her up and assisted her to the same tent into which Daisy had disappeared. Once inside, he pushed her and left. She fell onto a thin carpet. Daisy lifted her up, dragged her to a corner and pulled her close. Daisy's hands were free. They sat together and watched as the Bedouin women went in and out of the tent into a rear area as they prepared a meal for the returning men.

When they left, carrying huge trays of rice, flat bread and some kind of meat, Sarah hugged Daisy. “They will feed House,” she said. “But not us. At least not until everyone else has eaten.”

“What?” Daisy said. “Why?”

“These people are Sudanese nomads. They've been fighting a war amongst themselves for over twenty years. The Sudanese government actually armed them to help roust rebel insurgents. But that fell apart and now they use the weapons against each other.”

Daisy shook her head. “What's that got to do with us not being fed?”

Sarah smiled. “These people are Muslims and we are women. Women eat last and we're captives which makes it even worse.”

“So they'll feed House even before the women of the tribe get to eat?”

Sarah nodded. “Of course. I can speak their language. The one leading your camel said you had very nice breasts and he'd like to make you one of his wives.”

Daisy snorted. “Good luck with that. I'd whack off his protruding parts and feed them to him.”

“We need to get out of here. I'm not sure what they have planned for us, but these are not Somali pirates. They don't ransom captives.”

“I saw them looting the bird. They grabbed everything that didn't burn. We might be an accident.”

“What?”

“They were only after the helicopter. We were just there. You know kind of an opportunistic find.”

Sarah nodded. “Then maybe they will ransom us. As far east as they've traveled, they could have some contact with Somalis. Maybe they've learned white people have value alive.”

“I sure as fuck hope so.”

Sarah clucked. “Language like that will get you punished among Muslims. They don't curse or swear and rarely drink alcoholic beverages.”

“How do you know their language?”

“I know lots of languages. There's not much to do locked behind embassy doors when you're a girl. They speak a kind of Arabic. I can understand most of what they say.”

The women trooped into the tent carrying empty trays. They went out through the rear entrance and returned with more food. The small group sat down to eat. Sarah listened to them talk. Mostly it was about their children, their husbands and where they would go tomorrow. One commented on the captured stranger and they all began an excited spate of speculation about what the men planned to do with the captives. Their ideas ranged from torturing and killing him, to ransoming him to making him a tribal member.