Blood Covenant (5 page)

NINE

MONDAY, FEBRUARY 21, 3:52 P.M.
KINGANI ROAD

Samson held onto the hand of his son, Asim, who tried to pull him toward the open market lining the opposite side of the road. Women sat on the ground beneath the blistering afternoon sun with their piles of tomatoes and onions in front of them. Behind them, dozens more vendors displayed fish, bowls of rice and sugar, and other wares on rickety tables, where they’d barter with customers until the moon rose high against the black sky.

Asim tugged harder. “I’m hungry.”

“Not now. There is no time to stop, Asim.”

Samson caught the sting he’d inflicted in his son’s eyes and wished he could take back his sharp reply. He stepped over a deep rut slicing the dirt road. A week ago he would have pulled a coin from his pocket and given it to Asim to buy a treat from one of the vendors, even though Valina always reprimanded him for spoiling the child. He glanced down at his son’s wide brown eyes and dark, curly hair and replayed the moment, six years ago, when he’d been told his wife had given birth to a son. After three girls, the appearance of a son had filled him with pride. And, at that time, had renewed his hope that the ancestors still smiled on him.

But today his pockets were empty. He had no money to buy a handful of dried fish and sauce from one of the plump mamas minding her stall, let alone purchase a small piece of candy for his son.

He maneuvered Asim around a flock of caged roosters. All that remained was the prevailing feeling of an empty stomach — and a haunting taste of life without Valina and his girls. If he was lucky, he’d find his family waiting for him at the camp. But their disappearance, and the brutal murder of many of his neighbors, had revealed to him the horrid truth: his village, and perhaps his family itself, was cursed.

Samson gripped Asim’s hand tighter as he breathed in the smell of
goza
and fish sauce emanating from the small shop beside them, angry he couldn’t give his son what his swollen belly craved. Their only hope was to make it to the camp, where he’d been told aid workers were giving out food packets. He’d also heard rumors that humanitarian workers would hire anyone willing to dig latrines and bore holes.

He pressed past a group of old men hiding from the late afternoon sun beneath the shade of a tree and wondered how much further to the refugee camp. His feet ached and his head pounded, but with the constant rumors of more attacks, he didn’t dare spend another night on the road. When darkness had finally left them this morning, he’d been grateful for another day. But if they didn’t make it to the camp within the next couple hours, they’d face another night with little to shelter them from the winds once the sun dropped below the horizon. And nothing to protect them from the rebels.

Asim pointed to a man carrying a green parrot along the other side of the road. “I want to see it.”

The boy’s keen sense of curiosity, it seemed, had for the moment overcome his desire to eat. The man, holding onto the handmade cage housing the bird, disappeared into the market.

“I’m sorry, Asim, but we must get to the camp.”

“No!” Asim jerked away from him, and in an instant the boy had crossed the street to follow the man with the bird into the crowded market. Samson pushed back the panic enveloping him as he searched behind piles of fruits and vegetables for a glimpse of his son’s red shirt. He ran down the narrow aisle his son had entered, but there was no sign of him.

“Asim!”

He stopped to ask the vendors one after another if they’d seen his son, but none had noticed the scrawny six-year-old chasing the green parrot. Most dozed in the heat of the late afternoon or fanned away the constant swarms of flies on their piles of dried fish.

Samson stopped at the far edge of the market. Jagged breaths stabbed at his chest as he caught sight of a tanker that lay off the road fifty meters ahead. Its front tires had dropped off into the sandy ditch on the far side. A crowd had gathered. He knew his son. Asim’s curiosity would lead him to the center of the attraction.

The driver jumped down from the truck and yelled at the onlookers. Samson’s mind spun. His work as a carpenter had given him the strength of two, even three, men. If they would hire him to help pull the vehicle back on the road, he might be able to buy food for another day.

But first he had to find Asim.

Samson ran toward the truck and scanned the crowd for his son. The pungent smell of petrol filled his nostrils. He quickened his speed when he caught sight of the boy’s shirt. Asim stood a few meters from the truck while villagers filled containers with siphoned fuel from the tanker. Someone grabbed the driver and shoved him against the vehicle.

Samson caught the orange glow of a cigarette.

The explosion was deafening. The ground shook. Flashes of orange and yellow jumped from the fuel truck. The forest on the other side of the truck erupted into flames that leapt toward the sky.

Asim vanished behind a wall of black smoke.

TEN

MONDAY, FEBRUARY 21, 4:01 P.M.
KINGANI ROAD

Paige felt the impact of the explosion from the backseat of the jeep. Black flumes billowed above the tree line a half mile ahead. If it was the tanker …

She leaned forward toward Taz, who drove the vehicle. “What’s going on up there?”

“It’s got to have something to do with the tanker.”

Nick sat beside her, the same worry she felt gnawing on his expression. They both knew what would happen if they lost the fuel. Without it, there would be no way to get the water they needed to control the cholera epidemic. And with the way logistical things moved here, it could be days before they got another supply truck to the camp.

The afternoon breeze whipped across her face, bringing with it the smell of burning fuel. But it wasn’t simply the loss of resources that frightened her. Anyone near the tanker during the explosion would have been injured. She’d read about the horrid explosion in Kenya where over a hundred people were killed and others seriously burned when a tanker exploded. Dozens of victims had been airlifted out of the area by the country’s air force, but with the RD’s military already stretched to the limit, an evacuation of that scale was out of the question here. Which could leave her and the limited facilities of the camp as their only option.

Paige held on to the door handle as their driver flew down the potholed road, bridging the distance between them and the explosion. Already she could see orange flames licking the truck while thick smoke rose from the surrounding vegetation along the road.

Rebels had ravaged and burned down villages. What if they were here?

The thought punched through her gut. She turned to Nick, thankful he’d agreed to her request to come with her. “Do you think this has something to do with the rebels?”

He shook his head. “It’s hard to say, but I’d think the rebels would be out there siphoning off the gas for their own use rather than blowing it up. They’re short on resources and a tanker of gas would probably come in pretty handy.”

“So they hijacked the tanker, then something went wrong?”

“That’s a valid possibility.”

And one she didn’t like. They’d been told that the rebels had set up their base camp in the Mponi region, but in order to stay hidden it was assumed they moved often. Which meant there was no way to be certain where they were.

The jeep skidded to a stop a hundred feet from the truck. The air smelled like burning fuel. Paige choked, and a sick feeling washed over her. Bodies lay in the ditch, the remains charred from the blast. Her stomach churned at the stench of burning flesh. The explosion had turned them into human torches.

“We’ve got to move any survivors away from the truck and get them out of here.”

Paige grabbed her medical bag and jumped from the jeep. The heavy smoke filled her lungs. She pressed her hand against her mouth and nose.

“Where are we going to take the victims?” Nick stood in front of her. “Besides the camp, the nearest hospital is over almost three hours away by car.”

Paige hollered above the confusion. “Find the driver of that truck across the street. We can use the flatbed to transport people back to the camp.”

“I’ve got my plane, but I’d only have room for three patients. Maybe four at the most.”

“We’ll leave it open as a possibility, but I’m not sure how I can afford to send any of my medical personnel with you.” Paige began pulling what she needed from her bag. “I don’t think we have any other choice but to make do with what we have with the supplies in the camp. If it becomes necessary, you can transport some to the hospital.”

“We could contact the air force,” Taz suggested. “They could airlift anyone with serious injuries to the nearest hospital.”

Military assistance would be the best-case scenario in this mess. Kingani Hospital might not have everything to treat the victims, but their resources far outweighed those of the camp. Paige nodded. “It’s worth a try.”

Taz pulled out his cell phone and started walking away from the commotion. Paige turned to Nick. Lives would be lost if they didn’t hurry.

“You worry about stabilizing people.” Nick seemed to read her mind. “The police have just shown up. I’ll work with them to get this mess organized and arrange the transport to the camp.”

Paige dropped to the ground beside a man whose right side was burnt, thankful for Nick’s ability to handle the situation.

A burly black man ran past her toward the tanker and the flames, but Nick blocked his route. “I need you to stay back, sir. There is a chance that the truck could explode again.”

The man broke away from Nick’s grasp and moved closer to the truck. “My son’s here somewhere. I can’t find him.”

“Sir, I understand. There’s a lot of chaos, but he must be here somewhere. I need you to move away from the truck.”

Leaving Nick to deal with the man, Paige signaled to one of the policemen to carry an injured man to the truck, then rushed to the next patient. At least a dozen were dead; another three wouldn’t make it through the night. A woman with burns across her face lay on the ground with a baby in her arms. Paige stabilized her as best she could, then watched as two men carried her and the child to the flatbed.

A flash of red caught her eye on the far side of the ditch. Someone was still out there. Ignoring the danger of the burning truck, Paige ran across the blackened grass toward the figure. Heat radiated across her face. Another loud pop exploded and sent a flame shooting up her arm, burning the flesh. Paige glanced at the red welt rising on her forearm and forced herself to ignore the searing pain.

Halfway down the blackened ditch, she realized that the small form, saved partly from its position behind a blackened tree stump, was a child. She lifted the limp figure and carried him to a patch of grass at a safe distance from the burning truck. She scanned the small boy for injuries. Keeping his body aligned and his head supported, she laid him on his back. A faint pulse beat beneath his jawline, but he wasn’t breathing.

She yelled at him and shook him gently. No response.

“That’s my son!” The man Nick had blocked earlier ran up to her and grabbed for the boy.

“Stop.” Paige moved between the boy and his father. “I’m a doctor. If you want him to live, you’re going to have to stay back and let me work.” She grabbed the CPR mouthpiece from her bag and tilted the boy’s head to check for anything in his mouth. Nothing. She breathed two small breaths, then brought her ear against his open mouth. His chest lay flat and unresponsive.

“Come on …” Vaguely aware that Nick had arrived, she breathed for him again.

The boy arched his back and started coughing as Paige turned him onto his side, relief flooding through her. Burns crisscrossed his small body, but at least he was alive. The burn on her own arm ached, but all she could think about was the dead bodies, burned victims, and the fact that no fuel could mean days without clean drinking water for the refugees. And that the man crouched beside her might lose his son.

God help me … help all of us.

“Please tell me what’s going on.” The man rocked on his knees beside her.

“He’s breathing, but his pulse is weak.” Paige continued her assessment, understanding the need to keep the father distracted. “What’s his name?”

“Asim.”

“How old is he?”

“Six.” Disbelief shown in the father’s eyes. “Is he going to live?”

Paige watched Asim’s small chest rise and fall. “I don’t know.”

If he didn’t succumb to the injuries, it would be a miracle, but she was even more concerned about the chance of infection. Keeping wounds and burns clean in a disaster situation wasn’t going to be easy.

She turned back to the father. “What’s your name?”

“Samson.”

“Samson, I’m Dr. Ryan. I’ve just started working in the refugee camp.”

“We were on our way there.”

“I want to take your son there now. I don’t have the means to transport everyone to the hospital in Kingani, but I promise to do everything I can to help your son.”

Paige moved aside and let Samson pick up his son.

Nick signaled to Paige. “We’ve got the injured in the truck. I think you need to get back to the camp with them now so you can treat them. I’ll be right behind you with anyone else we find.”

Paige nodded and climbed up into the truck. Resources in the camp might be limited, but it was still better than treating the victims here.

“Wait a minute.” Nick’s hand grasped her shoulder. “What happened to your arm?”

Paige looked down at the raised red welts across her forearm. “It’s nothing.”

“Nothing, Paige? Stop!”

She stepped back down onto the dusty road. Concern showed in Nick’s eyes, but there wasn’t time to deal with her burns. She’d make it through the next twenty-four hours with a few Tylenol. Half of those lying in the back of the truck would be lucky to still be alive by then.

“Nick, I — ”

“You and I both know that you can’t treat these people if you don’t take care of yourself.”

Paige frowned. Apparently Nick could be as stubborn as she.

“I’m only saying what you already know.”

“What I know is that if I don’t get these people back to the camp, someone’s going to die. I can’t let that happen.”

“All I’m suggesting is that you let me fly you to the hospital and have your arm treated properly. We can be back within a couple hours.”

“You know we don’t have time for that.” Paige jumped into the back of the truck and signaled to the driver, ignoring Nick’s protests. “I’ll see you back at the camp.”