Chapter 18 #2
He’d hoped to find an empty place to hole up, but instead, the rooftop seemed to be just as crowded as some of the streets filled with the homeless.
There were tarps and makeshift “homes” built with boxes and other trash.
The people he spotted were all lying down in shade they’d created with their dwellings.
“Fuck,” he muttered.
He felt Bree shift behind him. She steadied herself with a hand on his back as she leaned around his body. “Over there,” she said, pointing to their right.
He saw immediately what she meant, and mentally nodded.
There was a small space between two other dwellings that was shaded, where they should be able to lie down.
It was also at the edge of the roof, so he’d be able to get a good visual of the city and hopefully figure out which direction they needed to go.
The only wildcards were the woman and child to the right of the space, and the older man to the left. Would they be all right with them crashing there for a while?
There was only one way to find out.
He was just opening his mouth to tell Bree to hang back, to wait here for him while he scoped out the situation, when she began to walk forward.
Catching her by the hand, he pulled her to a stop. “You can’t just walk over there,” he said.
“Why not?”
Why not, indeed. At first glance, the people on the roof looked harmless.
They were either elderly or mothers with children.
Everyone looked down and out. Tired. Beaten down by circumstances.
But that didn’t mean they weren’t a threat.
Smiley pretty much thought everyone was a threat, while it was obvious Bree wasn’t quite that cynical.
The more he thought about it, the better it would be for Bree to make first contact. He was carrying weapons, and was definitely a threat. But Bree, in her ill-fitting clothes, limping slightly, with one eye almost swollen shut…she didn’t look as if she could harm a flea.
Keeping his eye on the people all around them—who were all keeping a very close eye on them, as well—Smiley and Bree made their way toward the small sliver of unoccupied space.
Bree gave the man a smile, and then turned to the woman holding a baby.
“Hola,” she said, gesturing to herself, and then to the space. She held her palms together as if pleading.
Smiley held his breath.
First the woman nodded, then the man.
Was it really that easy? He was skeptical. Nothing had been easy recently, but then again, he’d found Bree before she’d been shipped to the jungle, so maybe, just maybe, their luck was changing.
Turning, Bree beamed at him. Her obvious pleasure in having succeeded shining through loud and clear.
Smiley nodded at their new neighbors, then put his hand on the small of Bree’s back and urged her forward.
They had no padding, nothing soft to sit on, but at the moment, all Smiley was concerned about was getting Bree out of the sun and getting her off her feet.
He got her seated, then took a moment to look over the edge of the roof.
All around him were buildings as far as he could see.
In the distance, he saw the ocean. It was hard to believe he and Bree had gotten as far inland as they had.
Shit, he’d obviously walked longer and faster than he’d thought when he’d first left the port.
“Smiley, get off your feet for a moment,” Bree begged, tugging at the leg of his pants.
It was hot out, and while he wanted to continue to study the landscape in the hopes that something would stick and he’d be able to figure out how to get back to the motel and his team, Smiley couldn’t deny Bree her request.
He sat, then pulled Bree into his arms, moving her carefully, aware that her ribs were sore. She put her head on his shoulder and relaxed into him.
Moving slowly, Smiley shifted around the bag he was carrying so it was sitting next to him.
It was still slung over his chest, but now he could reach into it and pull out a bottle of water for Bree and some crackers.
She gave him a grateful smile as she took them.
He was encouraged by the fact that she could crack the seal of the water bottle by herself this time.
She’d scared him when she didn’t have the strength to do such a small task earlier.
“How do you feel?” he asked softly, as she ate and drank.
“Better.”
“Give me a rundown of where you hurt,” he ordered.
“Smiley, I’m okay.”
“Not what I asked. I need to know your limitations, Bree.”
She sighed. “My side hurts. My eye. My feet. Walking helped work out some of the kinks I had from being scrunched inside that cage on the boat.”
“Can you talk about it? It might help.” As much as Smiley didn’t want to know what she’d been through, conversely, he needed to know.
“Honestly, there’s not much to tell. I assume Julie and Fiona told you how we got to Ensenada?
” When he nodded, she continued. “I surprised them by leaping out of the back of that chicken truck. They were expecting their buddy, not me. I ran, hoping they’d all chase me, and they did.
Giving Julie and Fiona a chance to get away.
But it wasn’t fast enough. They caught me, beat me up, then I woke up on the boat, in another cage.
I was pretty sure we were on our way here, to Ecuador, because I heard snippets of their conversation.
“I got seasick. Threw up a few times. The men didn’t want to be around me then, so they mostly stayed outside the small cabin.
When I felt a little better, I pretended to still be sick because I didn’t want them getting any ideas about what they might do with me to pass the time.
It worked. They left me alone. When we got to the dock, they took me out, handed me off to another guy, and as he was leading me toward a van—and probably another cage for a ride to the jungle—I punched him in the balls and ran. Then you found me…and here we are.”
It was a very abbreviated edition of the reality, but Smiley was more relieved than he could say that she’d managed to escape not once, but twice.
Then he remembered something.
Sitting forward a bit, he reached behind him to the holster at the small of his back. He pulled out the plastic knife she’d used in Ensenada to help Fiona and Julie escape, holding it up as he sat back.
Bree gasped. “Where did you get that?”
“Where do you think? It was on the ground outside that fucking chicken truck.”
There were still smears of reddish-brown stains on it, and now that he was looking at the thing, Smiley figured he probably should’ve just left it where he’d found it. Why did he think it was a good idea to keep it? Or to even bring it out now?
She reached for it and, ducking his chin, Smiley saw a small smile on her face. “Bree?”
“I can’t believe you found it.” She fingered the hilt. The hair she’d used to bind the material from Julie’s slip was fraying, but it still held. Bree looked up at him. “Can I keep it?”
Relief swam through Smiley. She wasn’t disgusted by seeing it, or by what she’d done out of necessity. “For the record…MacGyver was impressed.”
She blushed. “It’s not that impressive.”
“Are you kidding? It did its job. That’s all that matters, not what it looks like.
The most effective weapons are sometimes the most random things you find around you.
Not fancy guns or knives. I don’t have a sheath for you to put it in, and I don’t want you to hurt yourself by simply sticking it in your pocket.
Would you be okay with me continuing to hold it for you? ”
“Yes. Smiley? Can I ask you something?”
“You just did,” he joked, as he put the makeshift knife back into the holster at his back. Most people wouldn’t understand either of them wanting to keep something that could potentially bring back such horrific memories. But it was just another thing that proved Bree was made for him.
At his response, instead of smiling, Bree simply stared at him.
“What?”
“You made a joke.”
“Apparently not a very good one,” he said with a shrug.
“It’s just…you aren’t a joker. We’re going to die, aren’t we?”
She sounded completely serious. “No!” he barked, louder than he’d intended. Taking a deep breath to try to control his emotions, he said a little softer. “No, we aren’t. If you think Kevlar and the rest of the guys are gonna let me off the team that easily, you’re wrong.”
“I think that was also a joke. Lord, Smiley, what’s gotten into you?” Bree asked.
“You. You make me want to be a better man. Not so grumpy all the time.”
She put her hand on his cheek and caressed him with her thumb. “I love you exactly how you are. Be grumpy, Smiley. Be an asshole. Because I don’t ever want you to change who you are for me.”
“You had a question?” he asked a little hoarsely.
He was overwhelmed by this woman. Here she was, in a foreign country, filthy, hungry, thirsty, hurting, and yet she was the one reassuring him.
He didn’t deserve her, but he was going to do everything in his power to try to keep the look of love in her eyes that he saw right that moment.
The belief in her gaze that said she trusted him to take care of her.
To get them out of this fucked-up position they were in.
“Are we lost?”
Smiley blinked. That wasn’t what he thought she was going to ask. He felt his cheeks heat with embarrassment. He hated to admit his shortcomings to this woman, but he wasn’t about to lie to her. Not now, after everything she’d suffered.
He shrugged. “I’m not the best at directions. I’m an expert marksman, I can swim for miles without tiring, can outrun all of my teammates. But I suck at figuring out which way to go.”
To his surprise, Bree smiled. “So I guess I’m going to have to be our navigator when we go on road trips, huh?”
The thought of the two of them sitting in a car together, with her telling him which way to turn, sent a shaft of pleasure shooting through his system. “Yeah, sweetheart. You are.”