Chapter 10
CHAPTER 10
W illow snapped out of their warm zone together, leaping to her feet. Unlike Shep who always wore his pistol holstered on his hip, hers was in her knapsack. Bullets were snapping and popping all around them, coming from one direction. What the hell! She had no time, but her mind moved into threat-action mode. Shep was her shield as she scrambled to her feet. The roar of his .45 shook the area. Who was their enemy? All she could see was the winking of rifles being fired from down below the hill, up at them.
Escape!
Grabbing her knapsack, she yelled over the roar, “Shep! This way!” and she hauled the bag onto her shoulders, grabbing at his arm to get his attention. She’d never seen him in battle mode before, but the deadly intensity, the focus in his narrowed eyes, told her he was no stranger to this kind of situation. She gripped him, practically yanking him around before he heard her.
“This way!” she yelled.
He nodded, turned, and followed her as she ran down over the other side of the hill, escaping the barrage of bullets.
Stunned by the unexpected attack, Willow slipped and slid between the many trees that covered the entire area for as far as the eye could see. The leaves were many, dry and slippery. Shep caught up with her, still hanging behind, protecting her back. The shooting behind them stopped abruptly.
“Hurry!” she gasped as he ran on behind, off her left shoulder.
“Where are we going?” he demanded.
“The river! It’s half a mile. There’s nowhere to hide here,” she gasped, slipping, and moving around the low tuffs of grass scattered with four-foot walls of reeds. Now, they were on flat ground and off the sloped hill. She dug in her boots, lunging ahead, running as fast as she could. Shep’s footfalls right behind her gave her a welcome but false sense of safety. Somewhere in her racing mind, she realized he had put himself between her and the threat. He was prepared to die for her. Choking up, Willow knew she couldn’t go there. Not now. Whoever was after them? That enemy was trying to kill them.
They ran hard, dodging between trees. Willow could smell the river up ahead, although she still couldn’t spot it. After another quarter mile, they might. She was gasping, her lungs burning as she continued the brutal pace. Finally, she saw Shep running at her shoulder. He had his .45 in hand, looking around, on guard, not taking their apparent safety for granted.
“Who the hell is doing this?” she demanded in gasps.
“My bet is that it’s David and his soldiers.”
She gasped in surprise, terror lunging through her as she ducked, dodging under a limb, straightening, trying to keep her feet beneath her. The leaves were ankle-deep everywhere and slippery. Even worse, she couldn’t spot fallen limbs or rocks hiding beneath them. “Why?”
Shep moved easily at her side, his head swiveling, always looking around them as they ran. “Either they want to kill us, or capture and kidnap us. I don’t have a clue as to why. The river? Are we jumping into it? Swimming to the other side of it?”
“The river leads us back toward Lake Tana. It’s only about three-quarters of a mile to the lake. Where is our boat tied up? That’s where the attack came from. We can’t go there.” She gestured through the thick woodlands. “It’s about a quarter mile ahead of us. We’re going to jump in, swim across it to the other bank. I’m hoping whoever is after us. They won’t see us. I’m hoping we’ve gained enough of a lead that, by the time they get to where we are now, we’ll have disappeared. They may not realize we jumped into the river. It’s only about a hundred feet wide and about thirty feet deep. The current is strong, but we can swim and keep alongside the opposite bank. Then, disappear into the jungle and head for the highway, which is about three miles away.”
Shep nodded. He twisted around, looking behind him. “You’re right, we’ve been cut off from the boat. There’s no way we can get back to it.”
Willow was winded. Her calf muscles were burning with protest. Shep continued to protect her with his body, always alert. They didn’t have time to get her .45 out of her knapsack. Luckily for her, the fabric was waterproof. The pistol would remain dry and usable. Her mind spun. Was Tefere David targeting them? She’d seen at least ten rifles winking up at them from the base of the hill. Most of the bullets had been aimed at Shep, but they’d been lousy shooters, all missing him. The soil had spat up around him in dirty geysers as he’d moved in front of her, firing back, protecting her as she’d scrambled to her feet.
If it was David? Her mind cranked over possibilities of why they had been attacked. None of the reasons were good. They all made her stomach twist in raw fear. She raced on, scared more than she’d ever been as a combat pilot back in Afghanistan. If either of them was captured? It would be a horrifying nightmare. David was known for sex trafficking, but she also knew him as a regional player in northern Ethiopia: he captured Christians, regardless of nationality or skin color, and beheaded them on the internet.
Oh, no… The terror she felt over possible capture increased her speed. Her calves screamed in protest. Her lungs burned with each hard ragged breath. Up ahead, she saw the flat green river.
“Any crocs in this river?” Shep demanded, breathing hard.
“No. No crocs in river or lake.” Thank God.
“Any other threats? Hippos?”
Willow knew how dangerous hippos were. “Not where we’re coming out of the river If I remember right? If we go this way,” and she pointed across the river, “the main highway is about three miles away. Once we get there? We can flag someone down and get back into town.”
“Good plan.”
They went over a small rise and then, on the other side, was the wide, dark-green river. Willow skidded to a halt, gulping in raspy breaths. Shep halted, placing himself between her and the river, intently sweeping the area. They were both breathing so hard that Willow couldn’t hear anything else. She leaned over, hands on her knees, trying to quieten her gasps. “Do you hear anything?”
“No… not yet.”
She straightened, peering through the shadowy sunlit-laced woods. Here and there, her deceived eyes saw dark shapes resembling soldiers coming at them. It was just her wired-up brain letting its imagination run wild. But it scared her just the same. “What if they don’t follow us, Shep?” she asked, her voice hoarse.
“No, we can’t take that chance.”
She saw him with his pistol in hand, holding it upward, ready to fire if necessary. Shep was on full guard, tense, constantly sweeping the area with his gaze, waiting and watching. Gulping, she gasped, “We have a cell phone with us, but I don’t know if it will work all the way out here. We need to call Luke. He’s back in Bahir Dar with Dev today.”
Shep glanced at her, away from his scanning for a moment, and said, “Yeah, and I didn’t think to bring our satellite phone with us. That was a stupid mistake on my part, dammit.”
Willow reached out, resting her hand on his tense shoulder, the fabric of his t-shirt damp. “Don’t go there.”
“We were warned David was in the area, that he could go after us,” he muttered, angry with himself.
“I’ve got the cell phone,” she muttered back, hauling off her knapsack, kneeling, opening it up. She scoured the insides and found it. Hands shaking, she opened it and put in a call to Dev’s cell phone. Still breathing erratically, she pressed it to her ear, kneeling, Shep guarding her.
Her heart felt like it was tearing out of her chest. There was no ringtone. She looked at her iPhone. No bars. Making a harsh sound, she said, “It won’t connect. There’s no tower nearby. Dammit!” Rising, she put the phone in a waterproof bag and dropped it back into the knapsack, zipping it shut.
Shep’s mouth tightened. He jerked a look across his shoulder at the river. “We don’t have many choices, Willow. These guys will know how to track. They’ll follow us if they’re serious about capturing us. And I think that’s what they want to do.”
“Then why shoot at us?”
“Hell, if I know. I counted ten rifles firing at us.”
She stood, coming to his side, seeing the dark splotches of sweat across his upper body. She was running sweat as well. Her mind whirled with options. “Then, our only card to play is jumping in the river and riding the current to the other bank. That way, there’s no footprints for them to follow.”
“Right. They can’t track us any further if our tracks end on the riverbank.”
“But they’ll figure it out, Shep. They’ll know we jumped in. There’s only one way the river flows. They’ll follow downstream along the bank, trying to find us.”
Shep asked, “Maybe we’ll get into cell phone coverage heading toward the highway and can call for help?”
Grimly, Willow replied, “Yes, but we’ve got miles through the forest to reach that highway. Another possibility is to ride the current all the way to the mouth of the river, get out, and stay hidden inside the woods.”
Shep quickly said back, “Yeah, but what if David and his soldiers think the same thing? There’s at least ten of them. They could try and surround us or they could get ahead of us because they know this area.”
He was right. Willow swallowed hard, looking around, terror filling her. “You’re right. I say we go with Plan A: jump in the river, get out on the other side, make our way concealed through the reeds and tree groves and head in that direction, toward the highway,” She pointed toward the general area. “That doesn’t guarantee that David won’t find where we got out of the river, though. If he wants us bad enough? He’ll put trackers on both banks and follow it down. He’ll find where we got out and start tracking us again.”
Cursing softly, Shep considered the options. He looked up, at the sun climbing in the sky, at his watch, and then back over at her. “Agreed. We ride the current to the other bank, climb out, and hot foot it for that highway.”
“Seems best.” She wiped her sweaty face, tightening her ponytail’s rubber band in her hair. She searched Shep’s hard, glistening face, seeing the warrior in it coming out now. It made her feel ridiculously safe when there really wasn’t any safety at all for either of them. “I know Dev and Luke were also going on a picnic this morning. I don’t know where. They might end up being out of cell phone reach, too.”
“Can’t be helped,” he muttered. “We’ll do the best we can. I don’t know how brazen David is with his soldiers. I don’t know if he’ll maybe even loiter around, watching the parking lot to see if we show up to get to your SUV or not.”
“I don’t know his tactics at all, Shep. I agree, we can’t go back there until we can either contact Luke or get through to General Hakym’s men. I have a phone number in Bahir Dar for the barracks they have there, but as long as we’re out of cell tower reach, it’s no good to us.”
“Out in the middle of nowhere,” he agreed darkly, his mouth thinning as he warily watched the area around them.
They were both breathing easier now, and Willow keyed her hearing. “I don’t hear men crashing through the forest. Do you?”
“No, but that doesn’t mean anything, Willow. These men are hunters. They know how to move fast and silent.” He glanced at his watch. “We need to get into the river.” He took his pistol, took the bullet out of the chamber and safed it. “Your knapsack is waterproof, mine isn’t. Let me put my pistol in there.”
Nodding, she gave him her pack, watching him quickly squat and stow the pistol in it. As he seamlessly rose, he zipped it back up.
“Are you a good swimmer, Willow?”
“Yes. You?”
“I’m good,” he told her. “We need to put our boots in your knapsack as well. Keep them dry with our socks. We’ll take them off at the bank and then I’m going to put my knapsack on and carry yours by hand. I don’t want you wearing it while we swim, Willow. You could go down with the weight.”
“No, I can carry it, no problem,” she growled.
He gave her a patient look, keeping her knapsack in his hand. He cupped her elbow. “Come on, we have to go, Angel.”
Wanting to protest, Willow swallowed her words, hurrying down toward the river. This wasn’t the time to argue. Their lives were at stake. His hand was damp, but firm and stabilizing. Willow was no stranger to threat, but she’d always been in the arms of the sky, never on the ground. And this shook her as nothing ever had up in the cockpit of her jet fighter. They ran down to the sloping reed-filled bank. Shep sat, placing the knapsack between them, swiftly unlacing his hiking boots. She did the same. Taking Shep’s socks and boots, she pushed them, along with her own, into the bulging knapsack, zipping it shut.
“I’m taking the knapsack,” she told him firmly. Shep scowled and stood up, about to protest. “I’m a good swimmer. It’s bulky, not heavy.”
“Let me,” he pleaded, opening his hand toward her. “I can handle both of them.”
Willow shook her head. “I’m a strong swimmer. Come on, let’s get wet,” and she quickly waded into the turgid green water, her feet sinking inches into the mud. Without waiting, she launched herself, diving out into the deeper part of the river. The water was shockingly cool, but she shook it off. Pulling one strap of the knapsack up her arm, she struck out for the center of the river where the current was strongest. She heard Shep leap in behind her.
Soon, they were in the middle of the river, being carried at a slow pace. Willow balanced the strap, pushing it up on her shoulder again and again every time it slipped down. The river tasted muddy. She kept her head above water, treading it, Shep nearby. Quiet settled in around them except for birds calling to one another as they flitted across the river.
The fear in Willow’s heart began to calm the further downstream they went. But her gaze was always on the bank she felt the most afraid to see armed soldiers coming their way along it. Shep had maneuvered himself to her left side, so, once more, he was a shield between her and that bank where the soldiers might show up. There was that old familiar stubbornness in his expression, and she wanted to tell him how much she loved him. Willow had never been around him in a combat situation before, but if this was any indicator, she was seeing his tough, hard side. It made her feel a little better even though she knew there was no safety for them here.
The water began to chill Willow. The current was slow, and she wanted to hurry and hide from the soldiers that might be looking for them. Had anyone else in the area heard the gunshots? She didn’t think so because the monastery was literally out in the middle of nowhere. She glanced over at Shep. He was doing fine from the looks of things. They didn’t want to talk, for fear of being overheard. He threw her a thumbs up, as if reading her mind. She nodded, her heart blossoming fiercely with love for him.
The water temperature was beginning to eat at her strength reserves. Her teeth were beginning to chatter, and she could feel her muscles start to twinge, telling her she was already in mild hypothermia. How much further? After almost twenty minutes in the water, she spotted a thick grove near the muddy bank that might provide cover and a decent landing point. But just ahead, she saw a lot of tangled trees and other jungle flotsam that had floated down the river right in their way, partially blocking them from striking out for the grove. But they’d seen no better option. This was it.
“Watch the trees,” Shep warned, swimming strongly to the right to avoid them.
Willow followed, but she was slower because her limbs were beginning to feel stiff, almost unresponsive. Dammit! She didn’t need this right now!
Just as she kicked hard with her feet, her pant leg snagged a branch beneath the surface. It pulled her around. Willow croaked and, as she flailed, the strap of the knapsack’s harness slid off her arm and fell into the water, sinking immediately.
“Shep!” she cried. Water closed over her head. She fought the current, her pant leg still snagged on the branch of the log, holding her under. Panic started to rise in her, the cold water and current dragging her deeper. Twisting, holding her breath, she tried to jerk her leg free. It wouldn’t budge! Now, real panic hit her.
Strong hands gripped her from behind, beneath her arms, thrusting her upward.
Willow’s head broke the surface. She vomited water, cried out, and struggled.
“I’ve got you,” Shep rasped, holding her head and shoulders above the water. “Try to relax,” he pleaded, swimming hard against the current, trying to take her upriver.
“My pant is caught on a branch underwater!” she cried, coughing violently.
“Stay still, Willow—”
She tried, but the panic surging through her from almost drowning, her throat burning, her lungs hurting from swallowing water unexpectedly, all conspired against her. Shep was strong, steady, and he brought her around so that, as he leaned down and tugged on her pant leg once hard, it tore the fabric, and she was released from the hidden branch. Relief shot through her.
“Relax, I’ve got you,” he rasped against her ear and temple, sliding his arm around her chest, keeping her afloat.
Gulping, terror ripping through her, she surrendered herself over to him. Her mind was jumbled with fear from almost dying. Water was still funneling out of her nose, and she kept coughing up more of it from her mouth. She felt Shep’s strong body take her against him, as he struck out with one arm toward the far shore. Feeling terrible that she’d lost the knapsack, Willow realized she hadn’t trusted Shep with it as much as she’d falsely trusted herself. Feeling humiliated, knowing she’d now put them in even worse danger, she wanted to cry, but forced back the reaction. She kept trying to relax as Shep did all the work. He grunted and she could feel he was fighting hard to save them both. Teeth chattering, she could feel her body cramping and locking up on her. She’d have drowned if he hadn’t been here with her.
Sodden, weakened, she barely got to her hands and knees as Shep pushed her ahead of him and up onto the muddy bank. Tree roots were everywhere, reaching into the water for sustenance. She hated that she was trembling and felt so damned weak. Willow grabbed onto the nearest root, cutting her hand as she did so, but grimacing through the pain and hauling herself upward. Shep got behind her, hands around her waist, lifting her, pushing her up the low muddy slope of the bank. More than grateful, she finally found herself back on land, gasping, hot tears running from her eyes, mixing with the streams of murky river water pouring down her face from her wet hair. She’d failed them both.
***
Shep was breathing harshly as he pushed Willow up and over into the yellowed grass growing along the bank. His only priority was to get them out of sight. Straight ahead, he saw a deeply forested area, the trees packed tighter together than the other cover options around. He heard Willow gasping, saw blood on her lower leg, her pant trouser ripped opened. She was pale and shaken. No wonder. She was used to the air war, not ground combat. But, even if scared, it didn’t stop her from struggling up to stand shakily on her bare, unprotected feet.
Rising, Shep slid his arm around her waist. “Lean on me.” The only thing he cared about right now was hiding. Looking over his shoulder, he took them both, as fast as Willow could go, into the woodlands. He could see no one. Not yet. His gut told him that Tefere David and his men hadn’t quit hunting them. They wanted them for whatever sick reasons they had. His arm tightened around Willow’s waist as she wrapped one of her own arms across his shoulder, leaning heavily on him. She was limping. Blood was leaking down her leg. Had she injured herself on something beneath the surface of the water? More than likely, the hidden, jagged tree branch she’d been hooked up on.
“Hang on,” he gasped, taking her deeper into the darker reaches of the grove. “We’ll rest in a minute. I need to check out your leg then.”
His mind whirled with options. Willow had lost their knapsack. It had contained both pistols, their boots, and their cell phones. Shep knew she probably felt terrible about it, and there was no way he was going to harangue her about it any time soon. Right now, they were running for their lives. The shade from the trees that grew thickly together here closed in on them. Even though they had lost their leaves for the winter, the tight-knit tree community did provide thick cover. Shep saw a slight knoll ahead, further trees and saplings cresting it. Maybe they could hide there for a moment and catch their breath. He felt Willow leaning more and more on him. Shep was worried. He knew her injury was serious. This was Willow: she would never lean on him like this otherwise.
“Okay, we’re going to get you sitting,” he told her as he guided her round the knoll to hide them, helping her turn toward him, keeping his hands around her waist. Willow looked bedraggled, her hair curly, wet and framing her pale face. He saw pain in her eyes, her lips compressed. She was brave and he loved her fiercely for her courage under the circumstances. The leaves crunched as he nestled her down, placing her back against the smooth bark of a large tree. There were a lot of saplings of different ages all around them, providing even more cover than he had hoped for. Rapidly, he took in her condition. The palm of her right hand was bleeding. Her right trouser was ripped, blood staining into the fabric above the unseen injury.
“Dammit,” Willow said, her voice off key, “a limb snagged me beneath the surface, Shep. I couldn’t get loose. The current dragged me under,” and she pulled back the trouser leg, revealing a six-inch slice up her calf.
“You couldn’t see anything in that river,” he muttered, kneeling over her leg, gently pulling her hands aside. “Looks like about a half-inch-deep slice into the meat of your calf. “Are you in a lot of pain?”
Tipping her head back, closing her eyes, she whispered, “Not in as much as I am for losing our knapsack.” She sat up, touching his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Shep. I lost everything we needed.”
His throat closed as he saw the tears glimmering in her darkened green eyes and felt her anguish. “Don’t worry about it.” He reached over, caressing her damp cheek. “It’s all right, Angel. We’ll manage without it.”
“What? We’re both barefoot, Shep. That’s going to slow us down a lot.”
He moved his hands around on her leg, studying the cut. It wasn’t bleeding much, and that was good. Another inch? That branch would have torn into deep muscle. Not good. Right now, it was a surface injury. A nasty one for sure, but not life-threatening and for that, he was grateful. “Well, for a lot of Ethiopians being barefoot is a common, daily experience. If they can do it, so can we.” He gestured to the soft mattress of leaves. “This will help protect the soles of our feet, so stop worrying. Plus… I have an idea.”
She sat there and watched as he straightened and took a Buck knife from a leather sheath on his belt. It was a short, sharp blade. Pulling out his t-shirt, he sat up and used the knife to slice around the wet fabric, quickly cutting and tearing off a two-inch-wide strip from around his waist. In no time, he’d fashioned a tight field bandage around her calf, knotting it at the lower end near her ankle.
Willow’s winced eyes unclenched and she said, “Feels better. Thank you.”
Shep replied, “I wanted to make it tight enough to give you some support on it. How’s the pain level?”
“It’s okay.” Willow said back, hiding a grimace. “On a scale of one to ten, it’s a three. No big deal.”
He smiled a little, giving her a warm look. “Let me see your hand?” and he held his own out toward her. He saw her nails were broken, some torn down to the bed, leaking blood. Shep wished it had been him who had been injured, not Willow. It hurt him to see her this way. He wanted to absorb her pain. But he couldn’t, and so he just tenderly held her hand in his, slanting it gently a bit one way and then another to assess the damage.
“Just a scratch,” she murmured, resting her head against the trunk, her eyes closed.
“It is”, he said. Laying her hand in her lap, he cut another piece off his t-shirt, exposing his hard abs. Working out enough to earn them had paid off for him today. It had given him the extra strength to bring Willow to safety. He wrapped her hand, the stretchy fabric protecting the cut in her palm. Tying the bandage off neatly at the back of her hand, he said, “There.” Studying her, he saw some pink coming back to her cheeks, her lips a little less tight. That meant she wasn’t in as much pain. He fussed over her, because he’d seen the raw guilt in her eyes over losing their supplies and firearms. He saw her begin to relax beneath his care and attention. Shep knew that Willow would never forgive herself for such a transgression and that was why Shep was determined to get them out of this hot mess. Right now, Willow looked so damned fragile. He’d never seen her like this before. Again, he quietly reminded himself that she was a sky warrior. Not a ground warrior like himself. She had frozen for a split second when their unknown enemy had fired broadside at them. He hadn’t. It had been muscle memory that had spun him around and into action. To give Willow her due credit, she’d snapped out of the shock and had gone into warrior mode right along with him.
“How’s the hand feel now?”
She lifted it, giving him a look of thanks. “Much better. Thank you. Where did you pick up first aid?”
He smiled a little. Pulling off the knapsack he carried, he said, “My Dad was a hunter and tracker. He taught me a lot.” Opening the knapsack, he said, “Bingo. We’ve got water and protein bars. That’s good.” He dug into it, pulling out a bottle and opening it. “Drink as much as you can. Everyone hydrates in a desert region.”
Willow nodded, feeling like she was dying of thirst. This water tasted clean and sweet, unlike the dirty river water she’d swallowed and vomited out. She only took a few sips, aware that Shep was watching her intently. “I’m done.”
“No, you’re not. Drink, Willow.”
“But you need some, too.”
“I’ve got four more bottles in here. I need you to hydrate. We’ve got miles to walk. And it’s bound to get a lot hotter today,” and he glanced up through the tree limbs at the climbing sun.
Seeing the worry in her expression, he reached out, moving his hand slowly up and down her uninjured lower leg to soothe her. Instantly, he saw Willow begin to relax as she drank nearly all the pint of water before handing the bottle back to him.
Somehow, he had to get them out of this life-and-death situation. Somehow…