23. Silas
Chapter 23
Silas
Three weeks later
“ T hat should do it.” Bianca runs her arm over her forehead, wiping away the sweat from her brow as she studies the stitches she just finished on a child who tripped and fell, slicing open his forearm.
Abana translates what Bianca said, and the little boy looks down at his arm, then beams up at Bianca, before telling her “thank you”. She smiles.
“You are so welcome. Maybe next time don’t try and jump from one building to another. In fact, stay off the roof altogether.” She pats him on the back and he beams up at her.
Abana translates and the little boy laughs and nods. He hugs Bianca, then heads for the door, likely to try the very thing she told him not to do.
In the last three weeks, I’ve managed to pick up some of the more common phrases, especially thanks to Neo, who’s taken it upon himself to help me learn, though I’m not nearly as fast a learner as Bianca. The woman has an ear for languages. Just one of her many impressive qualities.
She rolls her shoulders and starts cleaning off the table, sanitizing it and sticking her tools in a bucket to get cleaned before reuse. River’s budget unfortunately doesn’t call for brand-new sterilized tools when it comes to the people here who Bianca helps. He and Yarrow, however, have their own separate stash.
“Are you feeling all right?” Abana asks.
“Yeah, just tired. I didn’t get much sleep last night.” Bianca takes a seat at the small two-seater table, and Idra places a mug of water in front of her. She smiles up at him. “Thank you.”
He nods, then lifts the water bucket and heads out the door to swap it out, just as he does after each patient Bianca sees. Aside from my injury, Bianca has helped a handful of kids, three men injured in the pit, and two women who suffered heat stroke over the past three weeks.
No one else has died—thankfully.
In fact, they’re all in even better spirits than before we arrived, and we haven’t even figured out how to get them free yet. Bianca reading to them from the Bible each night during dinner, with Abana translating, has changed the way they see things.
She’s changed the way I see things, too. Ever since I nearly died and heard that voice, I’ve been actively seeking the same connection with God, but so far I’m still struggling. In the quiet, when Bianca is sleeping, I try talking to Him. But I get nothing in return.
It’s like He’s uninterested in me. Though I know that’s not true. He saved me, something I don’t doubt in the least, and I have to believe it was for a reason.
Things with Bianca are improving, at least. I no longer hang on to that anger I carried for her. Truth is, I realized I’ve actually been angry at myself for not being there when Sierra died. I should have been there, home with her. But because I was so broken up over Bianca and what I’d gone through, I’d locked myself in that cabin. Then blamed Bianca for the fact that Sierra died before I could get home to her.
Now, when I look at Bianca, I no longer feel that anger I carried for all those years. Nor do I feel pain. All I feel is?—
Bianca runs her arm back over her forehead, then closes her eyes.
I narrow my gaze, noting the paleness of her complexion. She’s been off today, a bit more fatigued than normal. But given we’re going on nearly a month here, I assumed it was just the stress of everything. What if I’m wrong though? “Bianca, I think you need to rest.”
“I’m sitting now,” she insists.
“Maybe you need to go back to the cell and lie on the cot.” It may be a prison cell, but it’s a lot cooler down there than it is up here.
“Nah, I’ll be fine.”
“Bian—”
“Silas, I promise. I need to stay here until after dinner time. Then I’ll get a good night’s sleep and bounce back to a hundred and ten percent tomorrow.” But even as she says it, I can see she doesn’t entirely believe those words. Her eyes are glossy and unfocused, her skin paling even further as each second passes.
Abana reaches forward and presses her wrist to Bianca’s forehead. “You are feverish,” she says.
“Feverish?” I rush forward and feel her forehead. She’s hot to the touch, hotter than I remember Eloise being the first time she got the flu. And her temperature had spiked at 103. “Do you have a thermometer?” I ask Abana.
She nods and plucks one from the first aid kit.
“I don’t need that,” Bianca insists.
“Stop protesting,” Abana orders.
Bianca opens her mouth and Abana slips the thermometer into her mouth. I remain where I am, watching as the red color grows higher and higher on the old school mercury thermometer.
“104.1,” Abana says as she pulls the thermometer out of Bianca’s mouth.
Bianca simply waves her away. “It’s hot in here. I bet if you checked Silas he’d read the same.”
“You’re ill. We need to get you out of here,” Abana says.
“No. I have people to help,” she replies, her expression turning stubborn.
“You can’t help them if you’re dead,” I insist.
“We can manage,” Abana assures her. “You’ve been training Laring, and we have Idra as well.”
“No. This is my—” Bianca no sooner stands than she’s swaying on her feet, her eyes rolling back in her head. I lunge forward, catching her as she collapses.
“Bianca!” I yell, running my hands over her face. She doesn’t move.
Doesn’t stir.
And I feel the fear of what may come next piercing my bones. “Wake up! Bianca!”
“Here, try this.” Abana parts Bianca’s lips and pours some water inside.
It simply pools and pours down the side of her face.
“What’s happening?”
Abana feels her forehead again. “She’s too hot. We need to cool her down. Her fever is spiking.”
“How?” The main house doesn’t have running water, so a cool bath is out of the question. Everything comes from the well, and it’s always warm.
She looks to Laring as the woman says something I can’t understand.
Abana nods. “We know a place. A spring that has cool water. But the guards will never allow us to leave.”
The door opens, and Idra walks in, humming a happy song that dies the moment he sees us kneeling on the floor. He rushes over and sets the bucket of water down, then kneels next to me, his hand taking Bianca’s.
“Where?”
“It’s not in this camp,” she says.
“I don’t care. Can you take us there?”
“If you get us permission to leave, I will take you there.”
“Done.” I cradle Bianca against me and stand, then head out the still-open door, Abana, Idra, and Laring behind me.
I rush outside, moving as fast as I can as I cradle her against my chest. “Hang on, Bianca, you better not die on me.”
She groans in response, her head lolling to the side. Sweat beads on her face, and I imagine her temperature climbing. The guard outside of the main house steps in front of the door, blocking my way as soon as I step up onto the porch.
“I need to speak with River. It’s urgent.”
He looks from Bianca to me. “No.”
I step closer. “Do you see her? She’s sick, and I need to speak with River.”
“No. I’m not allowed to let anyone into this house.”
I turn toward Idra. “Take her.”
Even though we don’t speak the same language, he clearly understands and takes Bianca into his arms. I turn back toward the guard, stepping even closer now as I clench my hands into fists at my sides. “I am getting through that door. It’s up to you if you want to remain standing.”
“Is that a threat?” he asks.
“It’s a promise. Move.”
He opens his mouth to respond, but the door opens behind him.
“What’s this, then?” River questions.
The guard moves quickly. “He was trying to get inside.”
Bianca’s uncle looks past me at her, his gaze widening just a bit before he shifts his attention to the guard again. “And you blocked his way?”
“He’s not allowed in the main house unless it’s time for him to return to his cell.”
“Do you not see that this is an extenuating circumstance?”
“They could be faking it,” he replies.
River arches a brow.
“I don’t have time for this,” I snap.
River’s gaze shifts to me. “What’s wrong with her?”
“She’s feverish. I need to take her somewhere to cool her down so the fever drops. She passed out.”
To his credit, he looks a bit fearful for his niece, though I imagine it has more to do with the fact that he needs her to do a job. “That is certainly problematic. Does she not have the medicine she needs?”
“Yes, but they are pills and, as you can see, she isn’t awake to swallow them. Abana says there’s a place I can take Bianca to cool her down. We need to do that.”
“No one’s allowed to leave this camp.”
“I am asking you to give me permission. Send a guard with us if need be. Send ten. It’s better than her dying, isn’t it?” I’m frantic. I know it, he knows it. But I can’t be bothered to care that he likely sees what I’m doing as begging. Honestly, I am.
He cocks his head to the side. “Fine. But I’m sending armed guards with you. Should you try and escape, they’ll put a bullet in you. Understand?”
“Yes.”
“You go with him, take one other,” he tells the guard at the door.
“Yes, Sir.”
He glances past me again. “Oh, and take the pregnant one and her husband with you, too,” River adds. At my clearly confused expression, he adds, “Kill them first if they make any moves to escape.”
“Here,” Abana orders the guard. He pulls off to the side, then climbs out of the driver’s side of the off-road vehicle, taking the keys with him. The second armed guard climbs off next, both of them remaining near the vehicle, ensuring they’re not vulnerable to attack.
I can’t even be bothered to care because Bianca still hasn’t woken up, though the sounds she’s making are terrifying. Groans every few minutes, her skin so slick with sweat that it’s saturated her shirt, forcing it to cling to her like a second skin.
“This way.” Abana, Idra, and Laring head toward the river, so I follow, my heart growing heavier with each and every step. Why is this happening? Why her?
I can’t lose Bianca.
Not now.
Not ever.
I lost my parents.
My friends.
Brothers-in-arms.
My sister.
Is it my fate to lose her, too?
“Take her into the center. It’s the deepest there,” Abana orders. “Idra will need to go with you as the current is quite strong. He can help steady you both.”
“Okay.”
“Let me remove her shoes.” Abana makes quick work of Bianca’s shoes and socks, tossing them to the ground. “You go now.”
Idra offers me a smile, then starts walking toward the river. He holds my elbow as I step down the bank and into the cool water. It pulls at my legs, the current stronger than it looks on the surface.
But it’s cool.
Refreshing even.
Together, we move further into the river, stopping only once the water is up to our waists.
“Lower her slowly,” Abana calls out. “To avoid shock.”
I keep my gaze trained on her beautiful face as I slowly lower down into the water. Her feet hit it first, then I continue going down, almost losing my balance as the weight shifts. Idra keeps me rooted as I lower her further into the river, going slowly, just as Abana ordered.
Bianca barely reacts to the cooler water even as I finish submerging her up to her neck. I’m kneeling against the rocky bottom, but even though the stones bite into the flesh of my knees, I know I’d stay here for the rest of my life if it meant she’d wake.
“God,” I whisper. “Please don’t take her.” I feel the plea all the way to my soul. It’s unguarded, and even as stubborn as I’ve been, I know He has to be listening. “Take me. Please. She can help these people. She’s been helping them. They need her.”
Idra touches my shoulder and smiles knowingly at me, then he closes his eyes and bows his head.
Tears fill my eyes. I’ve been barely keeping it together over the past few weeks. Between being terrified about Eloise and how she’s doing, to nearly dying, to forgiving yet still trying my best to keep Bianca at a distance, even though I know the love I carried for her all those years ago never actually went anywhere.
“God,” I repeat. “I need her. Please don’t take her too. Please, I’m—” The words get stuck in my throat. “She’s the light guiding me back. I feel it every time I see her. It’s like a spotlight that’s slowly driving the darkness away. She’s made me believe. Even though I’m far too stubborn to admit it. Please, God. I know You’re there. I know You’re good. And I know that You have a plan for everyone, but please—I’m begging You—don’t let this be hers. Don’t let it be mine.” I close my eyes, and a tear falls.
I don’t even know if I’m praying right, but as the words pour from my mouth, there’s a sense of peace that settles over me. An unexplainable understanding that He is in charge even as I’ve done nothing but turn my back on Him.
“God, I know You’re there. And I know You’re in control.”
Bianca groans, and I look down at her as her eyes flutter open. Emerald green with flecks of gold that have captured my every waking moment since we first met. “Hey,” she chokes out.
“Thank you, God.” I crush her against my chest, holding her to me.
“What’s happening?” she asks.
“You passed out.”
Her gaze clears, and it’s as though I’m watching the fever disappear from her as we stand here in the cool water.
Idra grins widely at her, then squeezes my shoulder gently.
“Where are we?”
“A river,” I reply. “Outside of the camp.”
Her brow arches. But before she can respond, chaos breaks out on the embankment.
“Drop it!” someone orders. Realization stirs hope inside of me. I know that voice. Even before they come into view, I know that the cavalry has arrived. That God not only woke Bianca up, He brought us a rescue team.
Idra starts to move toward the bank where Laring and Abana stand, their hands raised. He looks back at me though, maintaining his hold on my shoulder as men pour from the trees. Four of them wearing baseball caps, tactical gear, bulletproof vests, and carrying rifles aimed directly at the two armed guards.
Three service dogs slip from the trees right alongside them, remaining silent, though I know without question that if given the order, the animals would lunge right into the action. They’re highly trained, and my cousins never go anywhere without them.
“I said drop it!” the man orders again.
Keeping Bianca cradled against my chest, I make my way back to the embankment, moving as quickly as I can as Idra steadies the both of us.
I reach the edge and set Bianca down beside Abana while the men clear the area, disarming the guards and securing their wrists with zip ties. The man in charge turns toward me, and I find myself nearly weeping with joy as I stare into a familiar hazel gaze. “You know, Silas, one of these days I’m going to get tired of coming to your rescue.”
I laugh—completely uncontrolled as I rush forward and embrace my cousin. “Bradyn, you have no idea how good it is to see you.”
“I have a pretty good idea,” he replies with a laugh. His gaze shifts past me. “Good to see you, too, Bianca.”
“You too, Bradyn.”
Michael comes rushing over next, his face shining with sweat. “See, and here we thought you guys were in danger, but instead you’re over here taking an afternoon swim.”
I hug my friend, then step back as he embraces Bianca.
“How did you know where to find us?” I ask.
“We’ve been camped outside the gates for about four days now, trying to find a way in. When we saw you come out, we figured this was as good a chance as any.”
I raise my hand and wave at my youngest cousin, Tucker, who stays by the guards.
Glancing down at Bradyn’s service dog, I offer the dog a smile. “Glad to see you got my message.”
“Asking about Bravo was a smart move,” Bradyn replies, patting the top of his dog’s head. The animal looks up at him, tongue hanging out, complete adoration in his eyes.
“Thanks, Bravo,” I tell the pup, who wags his tail. “How is Eloise? Is she okay?”
“She’s good,” Michael replies. “With Lance and Eliza. She’s ready for you to come home though. We all are.”
Bradyn’s radio beeps.
“You get them? Over.”
“Elijah?” I ask, recognizing the voice.
“We got ’em, over,” Bradyn calls out. “Your buddy is showing Dylan a few tricks with the equipment.”
“Elijah will do that.” The weight of everything I’m carrying starts to lift just slightly. With them here, we stand a chance at freeing the people back at the camp, and we’re no longer in this alone. I glance upward. Not that we ever really were.
Abana clears her throat, so I look back at her. “We need to return to the camp or they’ll come looking for us.”
“Go back?” Bradyn questions. “You don’t have to go back.”
“I cannot risk my people,” she replies.
Idra begins speaking quickly, his tone panicked.
She responds to him, and his tone eases. “I told him that they do not have to return,” she says to us. “Is that true?’
“Yes,” Bradyn replies. “None of you do.”
“I cannot leave my people behind,” she repeats.
“You aren’t,” I reply, looking to Bianca. She reaches out and threads her fingers through mine, then squeezes my hand. I turn back to my cousin. “Who all’s here? There’s something we need to do before we go.”