Chapter 4
Marta’s head ached, throbbing with the beat of her heart. She shivered in the warm, humid night air. Even more irritating than the headache was the pain that shot through her arm when her wrist bumped against anything.
“Great,” she whispered to herself. “I lived to get out of the compound only to die of sepsis on the run.” She chuckled softly.
“Sounds about right.” Her eyes opened to the night sky, filled with brilliant starlight, making so much visible in a murky, eerie way.
Thankfully, she sat hidden in the shadow of the structure.
Once again, headlights and a spotlight penetrated the brush between her and the road leading out of the village. A heavy engine moved past, tires crunching against gravel. It had to be Vasquez’s men looking for them.
Marta pulled her knees to her chest, wincing when she touched her wrist to her leg.
Crusher had been right to go without her. She doubted she had the stamina or the agility to duck in and out of shadows after running through the jungle for the past several hours. How the hell was she supposed to keep going when her energy reserves were nil?
She wished she had Crusher’s watch to track how long he’d been gone.
Staring out into the darkness only made the time seem to stretch into forever.
With the added stress of a vehicle driving by shining a spotlight into the trees, her mind spun with a variety of scenarios, none of which ended well for her or Crusher.
By the time he returned, Marta’s heart was racing.
“Hey,” Crusher whispered as he rounded the corner of the shed. He arrived empty-handed and dropped down beside her. “You makin’ it?”
She forced a quiet laugh. “I’d make it even better if you’d brought a hamburger.”
His teeth flashed in the shadows. “No hamburgers,” he said and dug into the pockets of his dark cargo pants. “But will this do?” he pulled out something wrapped in cloth, which he unwrapped carefully and handed to her.
“An empanada?” she whispered, her stomach burbling as she took the meat-filled pastry from him. “How—” she shook her head. “Oh, who the hell cares. Thank you.” She took one bite, savoring the flavors as they exploded in her mouth.
While she ate the pastry, Crusher emptied his other pockets of first-aid supplies, including gauze, antibiotic ointment, alcohol pads, a bar of soap and three plastic bottles of water.
Once he had it all laid out, he sat back and waited.
“I can finish this later,” she said and looked for a place to lay the remainder of the empanada down.
He shook his head. “Finish eating. It’ll provide the fuel you’ll need.”
She did, very aware of his eyes following her every move. She didn’t care. The food was good after the six weeks she’d existed on subpar offerings. When she finished, she sighed and held out her wrist.
With a surprisingly gentle touch, Crusher cleaned the wound with water and the bar of soap. Once he’d flushed the area, he opened an alcohol pad packet and glanced up. “This might sting.”
She grimaced. “It already hurts. Just do it. I’ll do my best not to cry.”
“Good,” he said. “I don’t do tears.”
She studied the top of his head as he worked over her wrist. The man didn’t do tears? What had he meant by that? Marta almost wanted to squeeze a few out just to see his reaction.
Crusher touched the alcohol pad to her wrist.
Marta flinched, gasped and yanked her hand out of his. “Wow,” she said quietly. “You were right. That did sting.” She let the burning sensation subside a little before she held out her wrist to Crusher. “Sorry. Please continue.”
He tore open another packet and held it over her wrist, hesitating.
“It’s okay. I know what to expect now,” she assured him.
This time, when he dabbed at the wound, she gritted her teeth and reminded herself that people didn’t die of pain. They died of disease and infection.
Crusher hurried through the final cleaning and squirted antibiotic ointment over the inflamed area. Then he covered it with a gauze pad and medical tape. He went over the top when he wound a bandage around and around her wrist, making it twice as big as normal.
Marta raised her massive wrist to the starlight and wrinkled her brow. “Sure it’s not overkill?”
“It’ll protect the wound from further impurities, and the padding will help with the pain should you bump into anything.
” He gathered the leftover supplies, tucked them into his pocket and handed her a bottle of water.
“Drink. As humid and hot as it is in the jungle, you can dehydrate quickly and not realize it until it’s too late. ”
When she struggled to open the cap, he unscrewed it for her.
“I would’ve gotten antibiotic pills,” he said, “but I wasn’t sure of the translations.”
“Keeping the wound clean and dry will help it to heal,” she said.
She drank deeply, the liquid helping to cool her body. Now all she needed was a good night’s sleep, and she’d be as right as rain.
When she’d downed half the water, Marta eased the cap back on the bottle. “The truck with the spotlight...” she started.
He hesitated, his gaze shooting toward the road. “It carried four heavily armed men looking for something.”
“Me?” she asked, a shiver shaking her body.
Crusher turned back to her. “They drove through town, turned around and drove back out.”
“Do you think they’ll be back?”
“I have no idea. But we need to plan like they’ll return and stay out of sight.”
“Agreed. How much further to where we’re going?”
“Roughly ten miles,” he said.
Marta swallowed hard on the moan that threatened to rise up her throat. She wasn’t at all sure she had ten more miles in her.
His lips twitched, and starlight glinted off his irises. “Don’t worry, we’re going to find a ride.”
She frowned. “I don’t think they have Uber out here.”
“No, but they have deliveries, some of which should happen in the early hours of the morning. We just need to hide close to where they’ll be and be ready to jump in the back of whatever truck is going our way.
It’s that or steal someone’s truck, which might draw more attention than we need at this point. ”
“There are a lot of holes in this plan as I see it,” she said. “You’re assuming trucks will arrive early.”
“If they don’t, we wait until one does come.”
“What if it’s not headed in the direction we’re going? How will you know?”
“We’ll watch for one coming into town from the opposite direction. The driver would be on a route to supply multiple vendors. We need to get to the next town. The road leads to it.”
“You assume we can just jump into the back of the truck. I’m not sure I can jump into anything at this point.”
“I’ll help you,” he said and glanced at his watch. “There’s a small store a couple of blocks from here that sells a variety of things from household products, baked goods, fresh vegetables and meat. It’s also where I got the empanada.”
“Won’t the store owner see that items are missing and be on the lookout for a thief?” Marta asked.
Crusher shrugged. “I left enough money to cover the food and supplies as well as took the time to straighten the displays so it wouldn’t be immediately obvious things were missing.
” He pushed to his feet. “Before daylight, I want to get into a position where we can hide near the store and wait however long it takes for a delivery truck to arrive.”
Marta leaned onto her good, unbandaged hand and struggled to her feet.
Crusher hooked her elbow and helped. When she was upright, she drew in a breath and let it out slowly. “Okay. Since I don’t have a better plan and you’re the one with the experience, you can lead the way. I’ll follow.”
“Stay close and do as I say, as quickly as possible. If those men come back, we don’t want them to see us.”
“Got it,” Marta said with a nod.
Crusher led the way through trees and around the backs of buildings and ramshackle homes made of weathered plywood, handmade brick and corrugated tin.
They passed what Marta thought might be a junkyard full of old trucks, cars and buses, but could also have been an auto repair business, or both.
She moved carefully so as not to trip over old fenders, transmission cases and wheel rims.
Once past the auto graveyard, they passed what appeared to be a home with a stick fence. Marta stepped on a branch. The loud crack startled something on the other side of the fence. A loud bleating sounded from a goat or sheep on the other side.
Marta and Crusher hurried past before the homeowners came out to check the disturbance.
Finally, they arrived behind a small store with peeling paint. Crusher pulled her back into the trees near the rear of the building. He pointed to the back door and moved his mouth close to her ear. “That’s where I went in.”
“Did you damage the lock to get in?” she asked.
Crusher shook his head. “Didn’t have to. I was able to use my knife to unlock it.”
They settled into the underbrush, facing the back of the building. “If the delivery guy doesn’t unload in the rear, we’ll have to move closer once he enters the store.”
If a delivery truck appeared. Marta didn’t say the words aloud. Crusher had gotten her this far. She had to trust he’d get her the rest of the way to Miami.
As close as she was, lying next to him, Marta could see the face on his digital watch.
It was nearly five o’clock in the morning.
They could be waiting for hours for a delivery truck to arrive.
She sighed silently and rested her chin carefully on her bandaged wrist. If nothing else, it made a decent pillow.
An hour crept by as the gray light of dawn chased away the darkness. The sky lightened, hiding the stars from view.
Marta drifted off several times, exhaustion claiming her too often to fight it.
A hand on her arm nudged her awake.
She blinked and looked around, trying to remember where she was.
Oh, yeah, she was in the jungle with Crusher. Only she was staring up at him, her head lying in his lap.
He brushed a strand of her hair out of her eyes. “Hey.”
“Hey,” she whispered back.
“Time to wake up,” he said.