Blood Covenant (6 page)

ELEVEN

MONDAY, FEBRUARY 21, 5:52 P.M.
KINGANI REFUGEE CAMP

A burst of adrenaline shot through Paige’s chest, giving her the extra amount of energy she needed. She was back in the ER with its hectic waiting rooms, shiny tile floors, crash carts, and equipment. Saving lives was what she’d been trained to do, and treating patients was where she felt the most in her element …

She caught sight of the naked bulb dangling above her, and the scene in her mind vanished. She squinted in the dull yellow light, barely enough to aid her in stabilizing one of the burn victims. Tennessee and the high-tech hospital she’d left behind three months ago were both thousands of miles away.

Here, semipermanent tents assembled with wooden poles and white plastic sheeting surrounded her, along with the constant backdrop of crying babies from the crowded waiting room of the main medical tent. Raindrops from a rare late afternoon shower pinged on the metal sheeting above her, adding to the constant noise.

The young woman in front of her moaned, snapping Paige back to reality. She had to keep her rampant emotions focused. She gave the woman an injection of morphine, wishing she could take away the discomfort. The third-degree burns caused nerve death, meaning she’d feel little in those areas. It was the second-degree burns, where the raw nerve cells were still alive, that would cause the most pain.

Despite the severity of the explosion and its consequences, she’d still been right about the miracle. With an explosion of that magnitude, the number of victims could have been far worse. Nick had transported the three most serious burn victims to the hospital in Kingani. Four other patients, including Asim, lay hooked up to IVs, their burns already rinsed to stop the skin from cooking.

Adding the explosion to the equation had created an even more volatile situation and had forced a number of quick decisions. Local nurses with experience in dealing with cholera had already begun registering and rehydrating patients. But as fast as they were working to process and isolate the cholera victims, there still remained an unending line of patients.

Taking a deep breath, she glanced across the dirt floor, covered with more plastic sheeting, to the noisy waiting room. She’d assigned five of the nurses to work a triage among the patients in the main clinic, referring the more serious cholera cases to the isolation tent. There, the rest of the medical staff monitored the already large number of patients with IV bags to ensure none of them ran dry.

Near the door, a baby lay still in his mother’s arms, the sunken soft spots on his head signaling dehydration. Beside the boy’s tired-looking mother, an old woman sat hunched forward, pain reflecting in her eyes. A couple of teenage girls huddled in the corner while a middle-aged man, probably dealing with tuberculosis, coughed continuously into a cloth.

She looked at her watch. Over an hour-and-a-half had passed since Nick had left, promising to return with the list of additional supplies she’d requested. But she needed him now. For some crazy reason, he’d become an anchor in the midst of a storm that was raging out of control.

A man entered the building and strode through the crowded waiting room without stopping. She squinted in the dim light and recognized the father of the young boy she’d pulled out of the ditch. While all the victims from the explosion had been transported to the camp, family members had walked.

He stopped at the foot of the bed. “I’m looking for my son, Asim?”

Paige signaled for one of the nurses to take over for her before motioning the father to follow her toward one of the metal cots set up at the far end of the room. “You can sit down and talk to him if you’d like, though don’t expect him to respond. He’ll probably sleep a lot during the next couple days.”

Samson sat down beside his son and grasped his hand. The boy stirred, but didn’t wake. “Tell me he will live.”

Paige bit her lip, wishing she could, but it was a promise she knew she wouldn’t be able to keep. “I gave him something to help him sleep, so for now he’s doing okay. But you need to know that there is always the chance for infection to set in. And we don’t have all the resources of a hospital, nor a way to transport him right now.”

Deciding which patients to send on the plane with Nick had churned the guilt already raging inside her. She hated feeling as if she was playing God, but the situation had left her no choice. No landing lights at the camp meant that if Nick didn’t make it back before the sunset, he wouldn’t be able to return until tomorrow. Which also meant that this late in the day, transporting a second group of patients by air was no longer an option. Those left at the camp who still needed transportation were also the ones who weren’t stable enough to make the difficult three-hour trip on the pot-holed Kingani road. And after dark, the trip became even more dangerous.

Nor would she mention to his father that Asim’s malnourishment was a negative factor in his recovery. Samson was no doubt already facing his own guilt over the situation.

The man’s dark eyes pleaded with her. “You cannot let him die.”

Paige shoved every ounce of courage she could find into her voice. “The God I serve is a God of miracles, and I’m praying for one for your son tonight.”

“My wife never misses a Sunday at church.” Samson dropped his gaze. “But her faith — or her God — did nothing to save her when the rebels raided our camp.”

Paige pressed her palms together. How did she respond to someone who’d just lost everything? And why did the truths of a peace that passed all understanding and God working things together for good seem suddenly hollow at the moment?

I know you’re there, Lord. Increase my faith and give this man a miracle
so
He can see you working in his life.
“Where is your wife?”

“I don’t know.” Tears welled in the big man’s eyes as his gaze dropped to the floor. “My wife … my three girls … They all disappeared that night. You … you must know what they do to the women they capture …”

He broke off, and Paige felt the sickening reality of the situation intensify. She knew enough to realize that a high percentage of the women and girls who’d arrived here had been raped, many of them more than once. And even the safety measures put into place within the camp were not enough to completely stop the violence.

“I am so sorry. I honestly can’t imagine facing what you’re going through, but for now, you and your son should be safe. And we can pray that the rest of your family makes it here soon. I heard that there have already been several reunions of family members here.” Paige cleared her throat. Nothing she could say would change what this man was facing. Or ease the stark pain of his loss. “There is a reception center you need to go to and register yourself and your son. You’ll be given a document to prove that you’re a resident of the camp.” She studied the man’s sullen expression. He had nothing but the clothes on his back and probably hadn’t eaten much for days. “They’ll give you a food package with rice, beans, oil, and other things along with blankets and clothing if you need it.”

He started to turn away, then stopped. He motioned to her burnt arm, now medicated and wrapped with gaze. “You were injured?”

“I was burned during the second explosion, but it’s nothing.”

Samson’s eyes widened as realization struck. “When you were trying to save my son’s life — ”

“Your son’s life is what I’m worried about right now.” Paige brushed off his concern. Worrying about her own injury seemed trivial with the child’s life on the line.

“But you risked your life for him. A man in debt always dies the coward.”

Paige shook her head. “What does that mean?”

“That I am now in your debt. And no debt of mine has ever gone unpaid.”

Paige watched the broad-shouldered African step from the tent without another word. She was the one who was supposed to find answers to his problems. To bring hope to those who had lost everything. Yet she felt as if she’d done little for this man tonight. Even her attempt at spiritual encouragement had fallen flat.

She felt Asim’s forehead. No fever meant that so far they were in the clear from infection. But she also knew that everything could change in an instant.

TWELVE

MONDAY, FEBRUARY 21, 6:24 P.M.
KINGANI REFUGEE CAMP

Nick crossed the edge of the camp, the fatigue of the day threatening to overcome him. Dozens of tents lay scattered across the vast landscape as dusk settled in, reminding him that his own problems were small compared to those who had fled the horrors of the rebel attacks. The camp was supposed to be a place of refuge, but he’d seen enough tragedy to know that, sometimes, nowhere was really safe. He could only pray that the desperation didn’t turn into violence.

As he passed one of the guards who was paid to stop any unruly behavior before things got out of hand, he couldn’t help but wonder if their presence really deterred anyone intent on causing trouble. With the country in a recently declared state of emergency, adding the army to their limited security would have been the ideal solution. But life was rarely ideal here. Rapes and beatings inside the camp were common, and while possession of a gun might be rare, a bit of cash on the side could easily turn the heads of those willing to smuggle weapons for the rebels.

He entered the health clinic, praying Paige didn’t expect him to transport any more patients. Between a thunderstorm in the distance and the unlit runway of the camp, another takeoff simply wasn’t an option. Hopefully, the planeload of medical supplies he’d managed to bring — along with the dinner he’d grabbed for her — would be enough for tonight.

From the far end of the tent Paige caught his gaze and waved. “Hey. You made it back.”

He strode past the long line of beds, surprised at how glad he was to see her — and how relieved he was that she was okay. “I’m not sure who you’re more happy to see. Me, or the supplies I promised.”

“How about both?”

“I guess that response will have to do.” He matched her smile. “Taz is having everything unloaded into the locked storage unit. I was able to get most of what you needed.”

“Perfect.”

He set the bag of food he carried on the edge of her desk, which had become her make-shift office. “How’s your arm?”

“Still painful, but it could have been worse. I think the scarring will be minimal, if any.”

“And how are you doing?”

“It’s a bit like my residency days. Between supervising both the regular clinic and the cholera center I’m exhausted and running on adrenaline, but I think I’m going to make it.” She scribbled a few notes on a file and handed it to one of the nurses. “Two more cases of severe cholera. I’ve lost track of how many we’ve placed in the isolation ward. The seventy-five beds we have aren’t going to be near enough.”

Nick frowned. Another confirmed case of cholera wasn’t the thing that had him the most worried at the moment. Fatigue registered in Paige’s eyes as she turned back to him. She was going to have to find a way to pace herself and get some rest, or in a day or two she wouldn’t be able to function, let alone meet all the demands placed on her. And after all they’d experienced today, there was no telling what the future might hold. Twelve hours ago he’d left on a routine medical staff transport expecting to be home by supper. Instead, they’d lost a colleague and found themselves stuck in the middle of some godforsaken refugee camp. He could only pray that tomorrow would be better.

He tapped his fingers beside the pile of charts she’d started working through. “How late do you plan to work tonight?”

She rubbed her eyes and looked up at him. “I was told that they typically close the clinic at six, but because of the epidemic there are too many critical patients to leave with the night staff. I’ll stay here instead of the hotel all the volunteers are booked into.”

“Ahh, the Hilton.” Nick chuckled. While the nearby location was a convenient place to house both local and foreign staff, he’d hardly call the shabby line of rooms a hotel — a designation that had made it a running joke. “From what I’ve heard, the conditions there are about as far away from a four-star hotel as this camp.”

Paige set down the pen and smiled. “I was told that the hotel has a bit of a reputation for, shall I say, a mixture of sordid activities. And by the way, Taz told me he’d be happy to set up a cot for you in the registration tent if you’d like. It should be a bit more quiet than in here.”

“I’m glad someone’s looking out for me.”

Nick watched as she grabbed the clip from her head and retied her shoulder-length hair. Even at this hour, the humidity still hung in the air, making loose wisps of hair stick to her neck. Truth was it had been a long time since a woman had captivated his attention, but he’d found it impossible to put her out of his mind on the flight to Kingani and back. Nor had he wanted to.

In the short time he’d known her, he’d already been impressed with her spunk and sense of humor. And he hadn’t missed the fact that she was beautiful, with those blue-gray eyes and full lips.

He dropped his gaze before she accused him of staring and focused instead on the wood-grain pattern of the desk. Something that didn’t interest him in the least. But the bottom line was that the convoy would arrive with all the supplies from the capital on Wednesday and then they wouldn’t need him here anymore. She was leaving the country on Friday. He’d be lucky if he ever saw her again.

“Nick?”

He looked and caught her gaze. “Sorry. I’m feeling a bit … distracted tonight.”

She pointed to the bag he’d brought and cocked her head. “I smell something other than the ever-persistent smell of chlorine that I’m quite sure wasn’t on my supplies list.”

“You finally noticed?” Nick opened up the sack and let the scent of grilled chicken fill the room. “I thought you might be hungry.”

Her smile reached her eyes. “I honestly haven’t had much time to think about eating, but now that you mention it …” Her stomach growled on cue.

“Then someone needs to help our doctor keep up her strength.” He thumped the large stack of files with his thumb. “Can you sit outside for a few minutes and catch your breath? Not only are the stars beautiful, but a fifteen-minute break will go a long way toward recharging your batteries. And if you’re worried about all this, I can assure you that it will still be here when you get back.”

“It does tend to work that way, doesn’t it? Along with the nagging guilt that won’t go away.” She pushed the paperwork aside and pulled over another chair. “Will this do? I’ve got a few minutes, but there are still several patients I want to keep my eye on.”

Nick plopped down beside her and pulled out the containers. “I suppose I can understand your not being able to enjoy a perfect night sky with a somewhat dashing gentleman, but why the guilt?”

Her smile faded. “Most of these people have eaten hardly anything the past few days, which means I’m not sure I can justify filling my stomach. And that’s not the only problem. Even a run-down hotel room is better than sharing a tent with eight or nine other people. And they don’t have anywhere else to go.”

“I’ll make a deal with you.” He held up a pair of plastic forks. “If I promise not to cater your dinner every night, will you at least eat this plate?”

She hesitated for a moment, then nodded. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He handed her one of the forks along with a bowlful of the chicken and rice. “Digane confirmed that the rest of the team should be arriving early Wednesday. If you end up with a patient that needs to be transferred to the hospital, I’ll be able to transport them for you in the morning.”

She dug into her food. “I’m glad you’re staying.”

He caught her softened expression and wondered if her gratitude was because of the logistical help he was offering, or if there was something more to her response. He tried to dismiss the thought, but knew he didn’t want to. Maybe he’d find a way to ask her out for a proper dinner before she left the country. They could talk about baseball and apple pie and get to know each other better.

He took another bite and smiled at the idea, as improbable as it seemed at the moment. Only God knew what the future held, but who was he to slam a door shut before finding out exactly what was on the other side?