Chapter 9 #3
“Sure, when I’m fit and in the best shape I can be,” she explained, trying hard to keep her voice down, “but this? Days of traveling, sore feet, after days of being held captive? And God only knows what else.” She lay flat on the ground, not caring one bit. “It’s hardly the same thing.”
“You’re right,” he agreed. “But just like that point in time in a competition, when you needed to dig deep in order to make winning happen, you need to dig deep now.”
And, sure enough, he heard a voice in the distance, and was on his feet, dragging her with him, saying, “Let’s go. Time to move, and we need to be quiet.”
*
Rubin noted that Tricia was flagging, but he really needed her to pick up the damn pace. She looked over at him, wide-eyed. He nodded. “It’s okay. Just keep going, no matter what.”
She closed her eyes, dug deep, and sped up, something he really had to admire. He knew that she was working as hard as she could.
When he finally tugged her to a halt, he whispered, “Okay, we can stop for a minute.”
She collapsed to the ground, her chest heaving, her feet in the air, and he realized just how much they had to be burning. They were sore to begin with, and he’d been pushing her hard. He also hadn’t heard from Hayden, which was a concern.
But this was what they did, and he had to trust that Hayden was getting away, just as they were. By the time he looked around and noted they had nobody on their tail—for the moment—he glanced back at her. “How are you holding up?” he asked.
“I want to say … I’m doing great,” she said, taking deep breaths, “but that would be a lie.”
He chuckled softly. His voice low, he replied, “That’s okay. You’re doing just fine.”
“I don’t feel like I’m doing just fine,” she whispered. “It feels as if everything has gone to hell in a handbasket. How is it that they even know where we are?”
“I very much want an answer to that question. When you were out cold most of the time, or, at any time, did you hear any mention of tracking?”
She frowned at him. “Human trafficking? Hell no.”
Rubin whispered, “No, tracking, like a GPS tracker?”
“No. Why?” she asked.
He sighed. “Did the kidnappers do anything to your hair, to your body, to your clothes, anything?”
“I have no clue,” she said, staring at him, “and you would have seen that yourself if they had.”
“I would like to think I would have seen anything when I dyed your hair,” he noted, “but there’s got to be a reason why they keep coming up on us.”
“So, you’re thinking that they’ve put something on me and are what, … tracking me?” she cried out, her voice rising in horror.
“I don’t know,” he admitted. “Let’s not go there at the moment.” Yet he kept studying her hair and her head, then moved on to pat her body.
“I thought I was drugged at the first, but wouldn’t I know if something was there?”
He reached for her arm, where he’d seen what he thought was possibly a needle mark from being injected. He pulled up her sleeve and studied it.
“Do you really think they’ve put something in me?” she whispered in horror.
“I don’t know. And I know you want answers, but we have no clue. I would tell you if I knew something.”
She slumped on the ground. “I’m not about to cut off my arm, if that’s what you think is the problem.”
He chuckled. “That would not be the answer either.”
“Good, because I’m not prepared to do that.”
“However,” he said, as he searched her arms, first her left and then her right, “you won’t like this process either.”
“What do you mean?”
“I need you to stay very still. Don’t move.”
And he quickly dug something sharp into her arm. When she went to scream, he covered her mouth with his free hand and just waited. With tears pouring down her face, he carefully pulled out a small metal bead from her arm and held it up.
She stared at it in shock, her tears of pain stopping, but her tears of outrage immediately took over. She stared at him and shook her head, but he nodded. “Oh my God, I can’t believe this,” she muttered.
“I was really hoping I was wrong. I did sweep you, but it wasn’t picked up. Or they nullified it by then.”
“You mean, they were able to turn it on and off?”
“Yes, that’s exactly my thought. I checked your head, but I didn’t check this injection site. Just thought it was from the needle for the drugs they gave you. I’m sorry.”
“No,” she replied, “that’s not your fault. I didn’t tell you it still hurt.”
“You should have told me,” he stated a little too sharply.
She nodded. “Now what?”
“Now,” he whispered, taking a foil gum wrapper from his pocket and putting the metal bead in there, “we’ll take off again. With any luck this time, we can get free and clear of them.”
She swallowed. “I’m not sure I can keep running.”
“You can,” he declared. “Do you understand the alternative?”
She glanced at him and hung her head.
“The alternative is they’ll find us.”
With that, she got back on her feet and continued to glare at him.
He smiled. “Exactly. When you see the options, it really does help put things into perspective.”
And that’s how he kept her moving, up until he saw her fatigue. She was crashing. She’d had enough.
Before she could say a word, he bent down, scooped her up and over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry, and continued to move at a fast clip, carrying her until she cried out to be put down. He put her down and gave her a moment’s rest because he needed a minute himself.
They spent a few minutes resting, then he got back up. “Either you walk or I carry you.” She looked up at him, tears in her eyes, and he nodded. “I know,” he muttered, his tone tender. “You’re not fully recovered.” She got to her feet, wobbly, but moving.
“Don’t think about the pain. Don’t think about anything. Just try to clear your mind and focus only on putting one foot in front of the other.”
And that’s what she did. When they came out of the forest and hit a road, she dropped onto the grassy shoulder.
Rubin smiled and shared, “We should be good here.”
She stared at him. “How is here any better than where we were?”
“Because here we can get picked up,” he told her cheerfully. And, sure enough, about twenty minutes later, a vehicle came along, and Rubin used his phone to flash them with a reflection, to get their attention. The vehicle pulled over. And, sure enough, there was Hayden.
He hopped out, raced around the car to help her. “Oh, you look awful.”
She just nodded and didn’t say anything.
He helped her into the back of the car, then looked over at Rubin. “Did you still have it?” he asked Rubin. He held it up, but all Hayden would see was the foil wrapper. Hayden grinned from ear to ear. “We can look at it when we get some light.”
“Good enough,” Rubin agreed, with a wry smile.
“Do you want—” Hayden began.
Rubin interjected, “I’ll drive for a while.” And, with that, they switched places, and Rubin drove, while Hayden joined Tricia in the back seat and discussed the bug.