Read Clay's Ark for Free Online Page A

alone was
    almost enough to make him leave it. They managed to make him feel like a fool for wanting a weapon against armed
    people who had kidnapped him and his children at gunpoint. But he would have felt like a bigger fool if he had left the
    knife behind.
    Meda led him into a back bedroom with blue walls, a solid, heavy door, and barred windows.
    "My daughter is going to need her medication," he said, wondering why he had not spoken of it to Eli.
    "Eli will take care of her," the woman said. Blake thought he heard bitterness in her voice, but her face was
    expressionless.
    "He doesn't know what she needs."
    "She knows, doesn't she?" In the instant before he could lie, Meda nodded. "I thought she did. Give me the knife,
    Blake." She said it quietly as she locked the door and turned to face him. She saw his refusal before he could voice it. "I
     
     
     
     
    didn't want to tear into you in front of your kids," she said. "Human nature being what it is, you probably wouldn't be
    able to forgive me for that as quickly as you'll forgive me for ... other things. But in here, I'm not going to hold back. I
    don't have the patience."
    "What are you talking about?"
    She reached out so quickly that by the time he realized she had moved, she had him by the wrist in a grip just short of
    bone-cracking. As she forced the knife from his captive hand, he hit at her. He had never hit a woman with his fist
    before, but he had had enough from this one.
    His fist met only air. Inhumanly fast, inhumanly strong, the woman dodged his blow. She caught his fist in her crushing
    grip.
    He lurched against her to throw her off-balance. She fell, dragging him with her, cursing him as they hit the floor. The
    knife was still between them in one of his captive hands. He fought desperately to keep it, believing that at any moment
    the noise would draw one or both of the men into the room. What would they do to him for attacking her? He was
    committed. He had to keep the knife and, if necessary, threaten to use it on her. His daughters were not the only people
    who could be held as hostages.
    The woman tried to get him off her. He had managed to fall on top and he weighed perhaps twice what she did. As
    strong as she was, she did not seem to know how to fight. She managed to take the knife and throw it off to one side so
    that it skittered under a chair. Angrily, he tried to punch her again. This time he connected. She went limp.
    She was not unconscious; only stunned. She tried feebly to stop him when he went after the knife, but she no longer
    had the strength.
    The knife was embedded in the wall behind the chair. Before he could pull it free, she was on him again. This time, she
    hit him. While he lay semiconscious, she retrieved the knife, opened a window, and threw it out between the bars. Then
    she staggered back to him, sat down on the floor next to him, hugging her knees, resting her forehead against them. She
    did not look as though she could see him. She was temptingly close, and as his vision cleared, he was tempted.
    "You start that shit again, I'll break your jaw!" she muttered. She stretched out on the rug beside him, rubbing her jaw.
    "If I break your bones, you won't survive," she said. "You'll be like those damn bikers. We had to hurt them because
    there were too many of them for us to take it easy. All but two wound up with broken bones or other serious injuries.
    They died."
    "They died of their injuries ... or of a disease?"
    "It's a disease," she said.
    "Have I been infected?"
    She turned her head to look at him, smiled sadly. "Oh yes."
    "The food?"
    "No. The food was just food. Me."
    "Contact?"
    "No, inoculation." She lifted his right arm, exposing the bloody scratches she had made. They hurt now that she had
    drawn his attention to them.
    "You would have done that even if I hadn't had the knife?" he asked.
    "Yes."
    "All right, you've done it. Get away from me."
    "No, we'll talk now. You're our first doctor. We've wanted one for a