Blood Covenant (14 page)

TWENTY-SEVEN

TUESDAY, FEBRUARY 22, 2:47 P.M.
KINGANI REFUGEE CAMP

Paige helped move the unconscious woman onto one of the last empty cots in the isolation ward while she mentally shifted her thinking into emergency mode. Without treatment, fifty-percent of those infected with cholera would die. With treatment, the death rate dropped sharply to one percent. But those statistics meant nothing to the woman who’d just lost her husband and three small children. And now they were about to lose her.

One of the local nurses pulled off the blood-pressure cuff. “She has no palpable pulse and no blood pressure.”

Paige nodded. “Her veins have collapsed. There’s no way to get a line into her.”

Which meant without a way to administer the oral rehydration treatment, the woman didn’t have a chance. They only had one option left.

Paige tied on a surgical mask, then rolled the supply tray closer. “We’re going to have to put in a nasogastic tube in order to rehydrate her.”

Marking the placement of the tube, she lubricated, then began inserting it. The woman started gagging. Paige checked to make sure it was placed properly, then suctioned. A moment later, she let out the lungful of air she’d been holding. With the tube in place, the woman now had a chance to live.

Paige finished giving instructions to the nurse on how to administer the oral rehydration packet, then slid off her mask. It was the one ironic thing about cholera: as fast as the illness could take a life, with the proper rehydration therapy it only took a few hours of treatment and most were able to sit up and talk. After another day or two, they were able to leave the isolation tent.

Exhaustion mingled with a sense of relief. She needed some fresh air. Pulling off her gloves and surgical gown, she washed her hands and stepped outside, greeting Samson, who guarded both the isolation tent and the main medical clinic. He had been put in charge of organizing men to watch over both the clinics and the food distribution center, as well as the perimeter of the camp, and had refused to go off duty when his replacement came. As far as she knew, the only time he left his post was to check on the guards or the progress of his son.

She breathed in the smoke-tinged air, wishing she knew what the rebels wanted. They stood around the perimeter of the camp like Joshua and the Israelites, as if they were silently waiting for the order to attack. And if they did decide to sweep through the camp, stealing whatever medical supplies and equipment they had, or even take hostages, there was little she and the others would be able to do to stop them.

Brandon was crossing the dusty grounds toward the clinic. The anger that had first marked his expression had been replaced with a deep sense of resolve, and from his actions, a desire to do something about the situation.

Paige followed him into the main medical tent. “Any updates on what’s going on out there?”

“Samson has done a good job in organizing extra guards, but I’m not sure if it will be enough. Gathering wood has become an issue, for one. There are still places around the edges of the camp that the rebels are not patrolling, but resources will not last long.” He sat down beside his wife. “How is she?”

Paige toyed with the end of her ponytail, wishing she had answers. She needed to be in a hospital with a lab where she could order tests and pinpoint the source of Jodi’s symptoms. “She’s stable, and I’m thankful she’s finally sleeping. The wound seems to be healing, but something else is attacking her body.”

“And you don’t have any idea what it is?”

“As of right now? No.”

Brandon took his wife’s hand. Jodi stirred, but didn’t wake up. “Her hands are swollen.”

“So are her feet, and now there’s a rash there as well, like hives.”

“I don’t understand. She was fine up on the mountain.”

“You told me she’d complained about a headache.”

“Yes, but I really thought she was just tired. We weren’t high enough yet for me to worry too much about altitude sickness. She tends to take on more than she can handle, so I’d planned to keep an eye on her. But she didn’t complain of anything else.”

“Did she have a cough?”

“No, why?”

Paige leaned against the end of the bed. “She complained of abdominal pain and has been coughing, so I gave her something to help her sleep, which is why she’s drowsy. But until I pinpoint what’s wrong there’s little I can do.”

Without a lab that could isolate the illness, all she could do was treat the symptoms. At this point, it could be anything from Rocky Mountain spotted fever to pneumonia.

Brandon rubbed the stubble on his chin. “This was our honeymoon. Everyone thought we were crazy to come here, but we both love to travel and never were much at doing the traditional tourist thing.”

“I’d have to agree that this part of Africa is an interesting location to choose for a romantic getaway.”

Brandon laughed. “This trip was so important to her. She was in a serious car wreck a year-and-a-half ago and after a miraculous recovery, wanted to prove to herself — and to everyone she knew—that the Jodi who’d spent her life running marathons and rock climbing was back.”

Paige worked to fit the pieces of the puzzle together. “You mentioned she’d been complaining of headaches. Do you think she was ready for this?”

“She’s been fine. Or so I thought. A little tired perhaps the last few days, but Jodi was never one to complain. She was used to pushing through the pain and keeping going.”

Which meant she might have been experiencing symptoms she hadn’t told Brandon about.

“I know this is hard on you, Brandon, but I’m praying for wisdom to know how to treat Jodi. And that this will be over soon — for all of us.”

“You believe in God?”

She looked down at him. “Yeah, I do.”

“Even after what’s happened the past twenty-four hours?”

The long row of patients lined up in front of her seemed to mock her. She squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, wishing she could squeeze the doubts away as easily. What kind of God would allow thousands of people to be ripped from their homes, killed, and raped … Anything she said would ring hollow. Until the curse of sin was lifted, no one would have complete freedom in this world.

“What’s happening isn’t because of God, but because of sin in the world.” She massaged her shoulder with her fingers. How could she convince him of something she didn’t fully comprehend herself? She was the one whose only clear goal had been to get through this assignment alive so she could return home. “I won’t say I always understand why God allows so much suffering, or that I don’t question why He doesn’t step in and stop things like this from happening, because I do. But you mentioned how it was miraculous Jodi survived the accident. Did you ever stop and think that God saved her for a purpose?”

“For what? For this? What would be the point of saving her from that wreck only to turn around and have her die by the hands of a rogue group of rebels?” Brandon shook his head. “It just seems like if there is a God, then He’d zap them like Sodom and Gomorrah instead of letting all these innocent people die.”

“All I know is that there is a God, and He cares what happens to both you and Jodi. All this, the fighting, killing, and disease … it was never a part of His plan.”

“Maybe.” Brandon stood and shoved his hands into his pockets. “Listen. Taz is sending teams to check the chlorine levels in the water, and I told him I’d help. I can’t just sit around and do nothing. I’ll be back later to see how she’s doing.”

Paige glanced over his shoulder at Ashley who sat doing her nails on one of the cots. “Would you mind waiting a minute? I’ve got someone who needs to join you.”

He followed her gaze. “Ashley? I’m not sure I want that woman on my team.” He lowered his voice. “I don’t mean to be rude, but she’s — ”

“I’m sure I could come up with a few choice adjectives as well, but the girl’s just lost her father and deserves some sympathy. Something to distract her, maybe?”

“Fine. I’ll be outside. Tell her we’re leaving in five minutes if she wants to come.”

Paige crossed the room, stopping at Ashley’s cot. “Hey, I thought — ”

“I’m glad you’re here.” Ashley waved her fingernail file in the air. “I need to get some hot water. I went to the food tent, but all they would give me was a handful of … of packets.”

“They’re food packets for the next ten days.”

“Ten days?” Ashley’s laugh rang hollow. “It’s a handful of dried beans and cornmeal. There’s got to be something else to eat around here.”

Paige folded her arms across her chest and shook her head. The woman might have given up on the idea of appealing to the rebels’ sense of greed by offering them money, but she certainly hadn’t come close to getting rid of her pompous attitude.

“You know, I’m really sorry you lost your father, and I honestly can’t imagine what you’re going through right now, but what I do know is that there are over ten thousand people out there who need our help. Most of them have lost people they love, along with their homes and everything except the clothes on their back.”

“So what do you want me to do?”

“What do I want you to do?” Paige attempted to rein in her temper. “For starters, stop feeling sorry for yourself. You’ve sat on that cot since you arrived and all you’ve done is complain. I wish I could change the situation, but my nurses aren’t here to wait on you. And if we’re going to get out of this alive, we’re going to all have to band together and do whatever we can to make sure we don’t have to bury anymore bodies. So, in the meantime, it would help if you could make yourself useful.”

Ashley’s file dropped to the bed and tears filled her eyes.

Great. So much for a show of sympathy. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“It doesn’t matter, because I know what you think. I know what everyone thinks. I’m some spoiled rich girl who can’t make it without her assistant in tow or her five-star accommodations.”

“I don’t know anything about you other than what I’ve seen on television.” She had to give the woman some benefit of the doubt. “And I’m sure the media doesn’t paint a realistic picture of who you really are.”

“If you knew who I really was, you probably wouldn’t want to know me. My family has more money than this country’s yearly budget, and while I’ve worked hard to get where I am, I’m used to getting what I want, when I want it.”

“Then why did you come here? The RD isn’t exactly on the top-ten tourist destination list.”

Ashley pulled her legs up beneath her on the cot. “Mainly because my father loved to hike and this was another challenge he could conquer. I wanted to try it with him. Believe it or not, he did pass on a few good traits to his spoiled daughter.”

“He must have been a good man.”

“He was, in spite of me.”

Paige sat down beside her. “I’m sure that’s not true.”

“My father saw money as an opportunity to give to those in need. The RD was one of the places where he’d become involved the past few years. He helped to fund an orphanage in Bogama, and visited two, maybe three, times a year.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“Most people don’t. While I love being in the spotlight and in front of the camera, my father just liked to give stuff away.”

“I truly am sorry for what happened up on that mountain.”

“Most of what he did, along with my mother, revolved around charity work.” She wiped away a tear. “But that doesn’t matter anymore.”

“I think it still does matter. I bet you take after him more than you think. There’s a group headed out into the camp right now to test the chlorine at the various water sites. They could use some extra help.”

TWENTY-EIGHT

TUESDAY, FEBRUARY 22, 3:35 P.M.
KINGANI REFUGEE CAMP

Ashley slid her sunglasses up the bridge of her nose and hurried to catch up with Taz, whom she’d been assigned to work with for the rest of the afternoon. He whistled down the dusty path like he didn’t have a care in the world. Something had to be wrong with a guy who was good-looking yet chose to live in this godforsaken wilderness. And what kind of name was Taz, anyway?

She wiped away a bead of sweat from her forehead and groaned. She never should have listened to Paige. The smell of cooking smoke, mingling with the foul odor of perspiration and filthy latrines, turned her stomach, reminding her that she was thousands of miles away from home. She’d pay anything for a hot shower, some decent coffee … and a chance to see her father one more time.

Instead, white tents flapped in the wind beneath a cloudless blue sky. Dozens of children ran past her with extended stomachs, runny noses, and smiles on their faces, as if this were nothing more than a weekend camping trip during summer vacation.

Ashley let out a sharp
humph.
She hated camping. The only time she ever wore trekking gear and slept in a sleeping bag had been to pacify her father on trips like this one, where he had porters at her beck and call to bring her what she needed. Here, entire families, with their passels of children, stood at the entrances of their tents, cooking and talking. She disliked cooking almost as much as she disliked children. Which was why she and Mitch had decided not to have any. It wasn’t that she was a scrooge. Not really. It was simply that her priorities were set, and children tended to get in the way. She’d seen it in her best friend, who had started out like her, with dreams of hitting it big in Hollywood, until one day she fell in love. When Jordan came along a year later, Lucy went from aspiring actress to chief chef and diaper changer.

That
wasn’t going to happen to her.

A group of little children in tattered clothes scampered in front of Ashley. She took a step back to get out of their way while Taz pulled a digital camera from his pocket and started taking their pictures. The kids squealed with delight and pointed to the camera until Taz showed them their digital images on the view screen.

One of the girls walked up to Ashley and tugged on the hem of her shirt. Ashley took another step backward and ran into one of the tent posts in the process.

“They don’t bite.”

“Of course they don’t bite.” Ashley looked at Taz, then back to the little girl. She cleared her throat. “Hi.”

The little girl beamed.
“Tsiko teyo.”

“Excuse me?”

“She said thank you,” Taz translated.

Ashley’s frown faded. “Thank you? For what?”

“For coming. She thinks you’re one of the aid workers here to help.”

The little girl waved, then ran off with the rest of the children to play in the hot sun. No frilly dresses or toys or televisions or PlayStations. Just homemade balls and piles of dirt instead of sandcastles.

She buried the guilty sensation. She had her accountant write out large contributions to a dozen charities from Haiti to Sudan every year. Surely that was enough.

“Ashley?”

She moved away from the tent and brushed off the dusty fingerprints the girl had left on the bottom of her shirt. “Yeah.”

“You know, when I asked for a volunteer to help me check the water, I was assuming that the volunteer would actually, you know, help me check the water.”

Ashley rolled her eyes and started after him. In LA, she had a personal assistant who not only brought her a latte every morning, but kept her Porsche full of gas and her dry cleaning done. The woman’s only job was to ensure she showed up for work with her lines memorized and enough energy after the day’s shoot to attend whatever parties were being held that night. Manual labor wasn’t exactly on her résumé, and from the look of things, Taz didn’t even need her. No doubt they all felt sorry for the rich American who’d had her expensive holiday ruined.

They reached the water source where dozens of women, with babies wrapped tightly against their backs with pieces of colorful cloth, waited in a never-ending line with their yellow jerricans. She handed him the black test kit she’d been carrying. “What exactly is the point of this?”

“Right now we have a dozen points throughout the camp where the water comes in from the river and allows the people limited access. What we really need is a tank full of gas so we can run a borehole, but for now, we can treat the water we have.” He held up the test to check the results. “If the chlorine is too low, then it’s probably contaminated by bacteria. If it’s too high, the taste is altered and the people won’t drink it. Thankfully, this water is okay, because clean water can reduce diarrhea incidences in the camp by ninety percent and is the only way we’re going to be able to stop this epidemic.”

She raised her brow.

Taz chuckled and started walking again. “I suppose things like cholera and other related topics aren’t exactly watercooler topics where you come from.”

“Not exactly.”

“So tell me, Ashley James. Where are you from?”

She glanced up at him, wondering if it was pity she saw in his green eyes or simply annoyance. She didn’t want either. She couldn’t help it if she wasn’t like Dr. Paige Ryan, who was clearly capable of saving the world. She lowered her gaze and watched Taz work. He wasn’t as handsome as Mitch by a long shot, with that silly safari hat he wore, scrawny, sunburned legs, and a strange, black bracelet made from who knows what. Of course, Mitch would never have come to such a remote place as Africa. He’d made it quite clear several times that she was nuts to agree to come with her father.

Maybe he’d been right. If they hadn’t come, her father would still be alive.

She reeled her thoughts back to Taz’s question. “Houston, originally, but I’m living in LA right now.”

“Ahh … so you’re a city girl.”

Clearly he was mocking her. “Like you hadn’t noticed?”

“What do you do there?”

“You don’t know who I am?”

“Should I?”

“You’ve heard of
Casey’s,
haven’t you?” she asked.

Ashley skirted around a mud puddle, then walked through the thick throng of people behind Taz toward the next testing site, wondering how he didn’t get lost in the sprawling maze of white tents and people. Every scene was the same. Women sat in front of the shelters either cooking beside fires that sent up wisps of gray smoke into the air or nursing infants, while the older children played in the long afternoon shadows of the tents.

“Casey’s what?” he asked.

“It’s not a what; it’s the name of a sitcom.”

“Sorry. I don’t exactly watch much TV around here.”

“We just finished shooting the second season after receiving an Emmy for best comedy and my nominee for best lead comedy actress.”

“Then I guess congratulations are in order. I’m assuming you play the role of Casey?”

“Casey? No. Alexandra Mitchell. Alex for short.” She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had to explain to someone who she was, because over the course of the past two seasons, the show — and its cast—had become household names. “Casey’s the name of the coffee shop where I work on the show. It’s about a bunch of aspiring actors and comedians who live in LA and work at Casey’s — ”

“Can you hand me that second test?”

Ashley let out an unladylike
humph
as she handed it to him. Apparently Taz was no different from all the other volunteers here who’d apparently lost their minds — and given up any chance of a decent livelihood, she was sure, to tromp around taking care of the underprivileged without a clue as to what was happening in the rest of the world. It was time to change the subject.

“What about you?” Ashley stopped beside him at the pump where another unending line of women stood to get water. “What brought you out here in the middle of nowhere?”

“I went to school and got a degree in law.” Taz started the second test without missing a beat. “But after five years of paperwork and meetings, I chucked it all for this.”

“Why in the world would you do that?”

“Why?” Taz turned around and faced her, surprise clearly written on his expression. “I suppose I never quite got used to working sixty hours a week for a paycheck but no life. And like most of the volunteers here, I wanted to find a way to make a difference in the lives of people. For me that meant outside the courtroom.”

She might not ever understand his reasoning, but she did know his type. He’d probably worked in some podunk town as a public defender to every lowlife who walked through the door. And to save some of his measly salary, he’d lived at home before coming here, because not only was it cheaper; it was also easier than living on his own. His girlfriend, if he even had one, was someone he met at church, who promised to wait for him, but that relationship wouldn’t last because she’d probably …

Ashley froze.

A mangy dog sauntered up between her and Taz, then stopped in front of her, ripping her from her thoughts. Ribs protruding from his sides and his bared teeth and low growl told her he meant business.

Ashley took a step back and motioned. “Go away.”

The dog didn’t move. Instead, he lifted his lip and snarled at her.

“I said go away.”

“Ashley?”

Ashley barely heard Taz’s question. The dog snarled again and started coming toward her. She stepped backward until she was flat against the wall of one of the tents. A couple of children giggled.

“Taz … He’s going to bite me.”

“He’s not going to bite you. He’s just looking for food.” Taz threw a stick at the dog. It yelped and ran off. “He’s harmless.”

“Harmless. Right.” Like a case of dysentery.

Taz folded his arms across his chest, clearly unimpressed with her handling of the situation. “Listen, I’ll understand if you would rather go back to the medical clinic and wait there until we’re all rescued.”

And give him the satisfaction of thinking she couldn’t do her part? There was no way that was going to happen. “I’m fine.”

“You look real fine. You’re white as a sheet.”

“I said I’m fine.”

Ashley started down the trail toward the next water site, but Taz stopped in front of her, blocking her way.

“Listen, I understand that you prefer your fancy cars and high-profile parties, but at least what I do here makes a difference in the lives of people.”

Ashley felt her jaw drop. What a self-serving ape. Like he had a monopoly on saving the world. “What I do makes a difference as well.”

Taz folded his arms and chuckled. “Tell me, Ashley James. How do you save the world?”

She glanced at the group of children playing in the sand. Despite their tattered clothes and dirty faces, they were all laughing. She tugged on the bottom of her shirt. This wasn’t exactly the place to be making her point. “People … people need people of influence like me.”

“Why?”

“Why?” Since when did she have to spend her time defending her choices in life? This man was turning out to be more exasperating than an uncomfortable pair of stilettos. “Because … because while people like you are out here saving the world, you need someone to act as your spokesman. Someone like me who people listen to.”

“A valid point. So what is the last charity organization you promoted?”

She strummed her fingers against the test kit. “I’m on the board of several charitable organizations and have been involved in their fund-raising dinners, champagne breakfasts — ”

“Hmmm. And how many of these people here benefited?”

“That’s not fair. Even in my position, I can’t save everyone.”

“Not much is fair in this part of the world.” He shook his head. “You know, I’m honestly glad you have your Emmy nominee and fancy parties, but here we spend our days making sure people have enough clean water to drink so they don’t die from a cholera outbreak. And, no, they don’t wake up and decide which designer outfit they’re going to wear into work or if they should grab a café au lait or perhaps a cinnamon dolce latte instead — ”

Ashley’s jaw tensed. “You have no right to judge me — ”

“Oh, I don’t? Then what have you been doing? Judging me because I decided to escape the corporate world for something that makes me happy. If you ask me, it took more courage for me to leave than you’ll ever have.”

“Now who’s sounding self-righteous?” Ashley pressed her lips together. A small crowd had gathered, stopping her from lighting into him like she wanted to. Apparently they’d become the entertainment for the day. She, for one, wanted no part.

“Just forget it.” She brushed through the crowd toward the next water point. As far as she was concerned the show was over.