Lone Star 01 Read Free Page B

me—”
    â€œStay here, Jessie, and get dry. After that dunking you took, you’d risk catching pneumonia if you went out again.”
    â€œAnd you couldn‘t, too? Ki, where are you going?”
    Ki, already at the door, merely answered with a soft, knowing smile. Then, closing the door behind him, he stepped out into the cold, rain-lashing storm. The first task was done; now for the second.
    He set off in a steady run back toward the river. It distressed him to leave Jessica filled with questions and doubts; but to have explained, he felt, would have resulted either in her refusing to let him go, or her insisting on coming along. It would have taken too long to persuade her otherwise, and time was of the essence. Alone, he could make better time. Indeed, if he’d been alone before, he wouldn’t have left the river; only the priority of finding shelter for Jessica had compelled him to act as he had.
    Arriving at the ruined bridge, he angled downriver, veering down the bank and sprinting along the water’s edge to the rapids. The turbulent river was swirling against the rocks, spuming over the haphazard dam of debris that was trapped, higher and thicker than ever, like bits of food between the teeth of a giant. Without hesitating, Ki ripped off his slicker, suit jacket, and Wellington boots, and dove in.
    The rampaging current carried him toward the nearer of the two channels that formed a fork on either side of the jutting boulders. Swimming furiously, he propelled himself toward the middle of the river, and a moment later he was flung violently against the choking mound of debris. The shock of his impact dislodged one of the dead Morgans, which squeezed between the rocks and was carried away.
    Frigid hands clawing for a hold, Ki lifted himself out of the water and onto the rough, scrubby branches of a yellow pine. Balancing gingerly, testing for weight and shifting before each step, he carefully eased among the debris and rocks, poking deep and clearing away, searching to recover what might remain of theirs.
    Time, precious time. If he’d been able to begin his hunt earlier, when the shattered wagon had first washed up against the rocks, he’d have had a better chance of finding things. If he’d waited much longer than he had, it would have been hopeless. Every minute, the raging tide was adding new debris, pushing forward what was there already, covering over the old and grinding it up, then prying it loose and sending it swirling away, lost forever.
    He spent almost an hour in his search, digging with his hands and clinging precariously with his feet. His weapons were gone. Those made of wood, like his bows and arrows and nunchaku sticks, had undoubtedly floated away immediately. Those of metal, like his sai swords and studded mail gloves, simply had sunk to the bottom. And his explosive devices would be beyond use, even if he discovered any—which he didn’t.
    But with a sigh of relief, Ki managed to locate Jessica’s bulky trunk. Its top was crushed and one side was stove in, and its Excelsior lock was snapped open and twisted awry. Its two hefty leather straps still held it closed, however, though tree roots were wedged between them and the lid, making it difficult to haul from the debris.
    At the other end of the rapids, where the carcass of the second Morgan remained hooked to the harness, Ki discovered his own Bellows case. This took even greater effort to extract, caught as it was in the venturi of two boulders, and firmly held underwater by the leaden foreleg of the dead horse. Launching himself into the water, Ki prodded and shoved and wrenched, struggling to keep from being sucked through the geysering vortex between the boulders. For a seemingly endless time, the case refused to budge, only the fact that it was made of impervious “alligator keratol” saving it from breaking apart in Ki’s levering tug-of-war with the rocks. Stubbornly Ki kept