Traveller's Refuge by Anny Cook Page A

curtly. “She’s a Fed they sicced on me when you disappeared.”
    “I see. Now it’s my fault you were sleeping with that foul-mouthed wildcat?”
    Bish shrugged. “Why turn down what’s offered?”
    “Oh, maybe because she might just stick her gun up your butt and pull the trigger?”
    “Nah, never happen. She’s using me to get something on my old man. Anyway, she’s fucking us both.”
    Trav just stared at him in disbelief. “If Free finds out she’s a Fed, she’ll be a dead Fed.”
    “Not my problem. She’s a big girl.” Bishop yawned and closed his eyes. “So what’s your plan to keep them from just rushing this cave?”
    “If they get too close, the entire canyon this cave opens onto is going to become a solid wall.”
    “Dynamite?”
    “Something better.” He stood and walked away with the cup. “I gave your father detailed instructions, which he seems to be having difficulty following. But then, I always thought that Harry Keller was probably really running the show.”
    “And after you blow the canyon?” Bish asked, praying that Trav had an escape route planned.
    “I guess we’ll play poker while we wait for the air to run out,” Trav answered calmly. “If you want, I’ll even untie you. Can’t play strip poker because I don’t have any clothes for you but it was a come-as-you-are party and that’s how you were. I can give you a blanket.”
    “What if Dad can’t produce your brother?”
    “Well, I’ll be really sorry about that but he should have let Dancer retire. Your father knew the job was tearing Dance apart after those kids died.” Trav drank from the cup, before tossing the dregs to the side. “Dancer wasn’t ever the same.”
    There didn’t seem to be anything useful to say, so Bish kept his mouth shut. He hoped his father was considering all the options. Of all the things that Traveller could have pulled, taking one of the sons of Free Llewellyn was the one most likely to get his attention. After his son Baron and his daughter-in-law, Jade, had been abducted, they were never seen again. Free had never quite gotten over their loss, even after more than twenty-five years. He sighed.
    “I don’t suppose you would like to let me go to the bathroom?”
    “I might be able to arrange it,” Trav conceded. “But you’ll have to keep the restraints. If they succeed in taking me down, the only thing that will protect you are the restraints. They prove you’re my hostage.” He moved away for a moment and returned with a bundle of sturdy plastic strips that Bish recognized. Used in differing combinations, they could serve as temporary restraints for almost any situation. Trav put together an efficient hobble and attached it to his ankles. Leaving one ankle staked, he moved up to work on Bishop’s wrists. When they were secured, he pulled up the remaining stakes and hoisted Bish to his feet. Pointing him in the direction of the far corner, he waited for him to shuffle off.
    “What, no hands?” Bish complained.
    “Improvise. If it’s going to be too difficult, I’ll start thinking that you really don’t need to go.”
    Bish shuffled off to the corner, taking his time. When he reached the corner, he leaned his head against the wall and aimed with mixed results. He heard the dim bark of a rifle shot and then the cave seemed to jump up and shake him like a dog.
    When the vibrations from the explosives detonating rippled away, he saw Traveller stretched out in the dirt across the cave from him. Incredibly, the fire still burned, though it looked as though the tidy little pile of wood was somewhat scattered. In the distance, he could hear a low rumbling and somewhere, deep inside, he knew that they were trapped. Lucky shot. Or unlucky shot, if you were the fella that was going to answer to his father. Actually, he hoped it was that son of a bitch, DeMarko. Shaking his head, he shuffled over to Trav’s body, praying that he wasn’t dead yet. He didn’t particularly want