Authors: Lisa Mills
“He needs medical attention. Antibiotics.” She pleaded with the one who appeared to be the ringleader. “Please, help him.”
He stared at her for a moment, his face reflecting disinterest. “We’re almost there.”
“Where is ‘there’? Does this location have a medical facility?”
He shrugged, offering no more information.
“If you let him die, I won’t help you.” She heard the desperation in her voice, and hated feeling so powerless.
He turned away and ignored her, obviously unconcerned by her threat.
Isabel wanted to throw herself at him, to dig her fingernails into his dispassionate face until he agreed to give Manuel the help he needed. But afraid she’d only make the situation worse, she distracted herself with making Manuel more comfortable. She could do little for him, but she felt better just sitting near him. She smoothed a hand across his fevered brow and ran her fingers lightly over his hair. He jerked and twitched in his sleep, as if a battle raged behind his closed eyelids.
Ten minutes later, the plane circled and descended over a crude landing strip in the middle of heavy woods. Isabel pressed her face to the window, praying help was near.
As soon as they stepped off the little plane, an SUV appeared and transported them down a long drive leading to a small complex of buildings. A stately air surrounded the largest one, a white stucco hacienda with iron-railed balconies on the second floor. The others were less elegant and seemed more suited for work. The vehicle stopped in front of a small shack, and the men piled out. Isabel’s captors pulled her from the truck and shoved her toward a rickety door covered in peeling white paint.
Unable to walk, or even awaken, Manuel was dragged along behind her. Her captor shoved her through the doorway. By the dingy light of a bare light bulb, Isabel saw an iron-framed bed sitting in one corner of the shack. The only other furniture was a table and chair whose scarred surfaces showed years of mistreatment. Bars covered the windows, but the opening let in a cool breeze along with the moonlight.
The men heaved Manuel onto the bed, unconcerned with his injuries.
“Be careful. He’ll start bleeding again.” Isabel rushed to his side and rolled him onto his back. As she arranged his arm across his chest to alleviate pressure from his shoulder, the door slammed behind her. The click of a turning lock punctuated her panic. She scrambled to her feet and yanked at the doorknob. Though it rattled and shook, the frail-looking door proved a surprisingly effective barrier. Obviously, their captors had used the shack as a prison before.
She returned to the bed and sat at Manuel’s side, praying help would come. Minutes dragged by. Feelings of guilt increased with each labored breath Manuel dragged into his lungs. Her bad decisions and lack of discernment had caused his suffering. If only she’d seen Raúl’s true nature earlier. She could have cut off contact with him completely rather than continuing to do business with him. She’d arrogantly assumed she could control the situation. Now Manuel was paying for her bad judgment.
Noise at the door drew her from her regrets, and she stood to face the visitor. An older man let himself in and closed the door behind him. He didn’t even glance at the bed as he walked to the shoddy table in the corner and plunked down a medical bag. A bottle and syringe emerged, and he drew up a dosage of the medicine.
“What is that?” Isabel moved between Manuel and the man, shielding Manuel until she had some answers.
He gave her an irritated look. “Is antibiotics. He has fever, no?”
“Are you a doctor?”
“I give medical service to people on complex.”
“Where are we? Are we near a city?”
The man shook his head and pushed past her. “No more talking.” He shoved Manuel’s sleeve up to his shoulder and jabbed the needle into his bicep. After tossing the empty syringe into his bag, he started to leave.
“Where are you going? His bandages need to be changed.” Isabel couldn’t believe they would offer so little help. Manuel needed a hospital and a trained medical staff, not some quack on the payroll of an organized crime ring.
The man hesitated at the door.
“Please,” she begged.
He opened his bag and removed a roll of gauze and a bottle of peroxide. “Here, you do.”
She took the supplies he offered and watched him leave, despair overtaking her.
God, where are you?
As she unwrapped Manuel’s dressings, she noticed he’d stopped sweating despite his high fever. Neither of them had drunk anything at all that day, and with Manuel’s blood loss, he needed water more than ever, but a quick glance around told her there was nothing to drink in the room. The best she could do was care for his wound.
She carefully peeled away his bloody bandages and poured peroxide on the wound. He didn’t move as she cleaned the bullet hole with a pad of clean gauze and applied new dressings.
When she’d done all she could for him, she paced the room, pausing at the window to study her surroundings. Occasionally, she spied other people on the grounds, but no one paid her any attention. After an hour, her legs grew weary, and she perched on a corner of the mattress near Manuel’s feet.
She lost track of time as she stared at the dirty wall, considering her situation and grasping for a plausible solution. The door rattled, and a timid girl entered, shadowed by a man with a gun. She scurried to the table and set down a tray of food.
“Thank you, miss.” Isabel tried to catch the girl’s eye, but the young woman hurried out the door as if afraid of punishment if she lingered.
Alone again, Isabel rushed to see what the girl had delivered. The pitcher of water snagged her attention. She poured a glass and snatched up a spoon. Returning to Manuel’s side, she dribbled a few drops of water onto his parted lips and was pleased to see him swallow. Encouraged, she offered him one spoonful at a time until he’d consumed half a glass. Satisfied with the small accomplishment, she quickly ate some of the food and took care of her own needs.
Night deepened, and the lights in other windows around the complex went out. Isabel’s energy waned and her eyelids grew heavy. Fighting sleep, she spooned more water into Manuel’s mouth until she’d emptied the cup. Exhausted emotionally and physically, fatigue pressed into her until she couldn’t fight it anymore. After turning off the light, she sat on the floor beside Manuel’s bed and laid her head against the mattress. When he moaned and started to toss, Isabel stretched a hand across his chest. Her touch calmed him, and he quieted. Isabel sat in her protective stance and listened to the steady rhythm of his breathing until she, too, drifted off to sleep.
“Isabel.” Manuel rasped her name from a dry throat and parched lips. Faint light glowed in the window and birds chirped a happy song, leading him to believe dawn had arrived. He felt guilty for having slept in the bed while she reclined on the floor beside him, her hand draped across his chest. After a second look he realized the ripped and stained mattress wasn’t an accommodation she would covet.
He tested his uninjured arm and found he could move it without causing too much pain. He slid his hand to his chest and folded it over her fingers. “Isabel.”
She lifted her head and blinked a few times, as if trying to focus. Her gaze drifted to his face, and she summoned a sleepy smile. “You’re awake.”
“You sound surprised.”
“I am. You were in bad shape last night.” She moved her free hand to his forehead. “The fever broke.”
She smoothed his hair back from his brow, and he relaxed under the comforting touch. “I still feel terrible.”
“Trust me, terrible is an improvement. I thought you were going to die last night. You’d lost too much blood, and your fever spiked so high. I guess the shot of antibiotics helped.”
“A doctor came here?” He’d obviously missed a lot while he slept, and his failure to help Isabel deal with the situation disturbed him.
“The man didn’t show me his medical license or anything, but I got the impression he had some experience. Are you hungry?”
“I’m thirsty. Do we have water?”
“Sure.” She pushed to her feet and moved away from him, taking the warmth of her soft hands with her.
She poured a glass and returned to his side. He tried to sit up but collapsed back to the pillow in pain.
“Let me do the work.” She slipped a hand behind his neck and supported his head while he drank. His inability to help himself irritated him. When she tried to wipe his mouth with a napkin, he pushed her hand away, unable to hide his frustration.
Her eyes widened in surprise. “What’s wrong?”
He turned his face away from her and stared at the wall. “I promised to protect you. How am I supposed to do that when I can’t even hold a cup?”
Her hand slipped over his, and her eyes told him she understood.
“Maybe I’m old fashioned, but I think a guy should defend his girl. I hate being incapacitated.”
“It’ll work out, Manuel.”
“How, Isabel? You don’t believe they’ll let us go, do you?” He disliked the angry tone of his voice, but he had to make her understand.
Her lips drew into a tight, thin line. “I don’t know.”
“You know you can’t reason with these men. People like them have no conscience. They can kill someone and then go to dinner as if nothing happened.”
Isabel shuddered and pulled away from him. “Why are you being so morbid? You’re alive, aren’t you? They sent someone to give you antibiotics and clean bandages.”
“We’re alive because we can lead them to the treasure. When they have what they want, we’ll be a liability.” Fear of seeing her harmed and frustration at being helpless to do anything to protect her made his tone harsh.
“I’m scared enough as it is, Manuel. I don’t need you pointing out the danger to me.”
The tremor in her voice pierced through his anger, draining him of every emotion except regret. “I’m sorry, Isabel. I can’t stand the thought of them hurting you.”
“I feel the same way about you. If anything happened to you, I don’t know how I could go on.”
“Don’t say that.” He drank in the smooth lines of her face and sighed. “I want you to promise me you won’t do anything foolish.”
She looked away. “I already did. I got us into this mess.”
“You can’t take all the blame for that. I didn’t see this coming either.” His head started to cloud, and he felt sleep descending over him like a heavy blanket. “Now, promise me you won’t do anything foolish.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Promise you won’t let them manipulate you with threats against me. What happens to me doesn’t matter. I want you to do whatever it takes to get out of this alive. Understand?”
Tears filled her eyes and spilled onto his arm. “If you’re asking me to turn my back on you to save myself, I can’t do that.”
“You can, and you will. They’ll try to use our relationship against us. I don’t want you hurt trying to save me. Whether I die now or later, my future is in God’s hands. You can’t change that and I don’t want you to try.”
“Manuel—” Quiet sobs choked off her protests, but he refused to back down. If it were the last gift he could give her, he’d make sure she could walk away without guilt.
Certain she understood his wishes, he changed the subject. “Do you know where we are?”
She sniffed and rubbed at her eyes. “We flew north most of the trip. I fell asleep late in the afternoon, and it was dark when we arrived at this compound.”
“What’s the compound like?”
“A large house and several smaller outbuildings. It’s obviously one of their hideouts, but I couldn’t tell you where.”
He nodded, fighting his heavy eyelids. “I’m getting tired again. Don’t think I can stay awake much longer.”
“Can you try to eat something before you sleep? You need to build your strength.”
He wasn’t the least bit hungry, but her pleading look convinced him to try. “Okay, what’s on the menu?”
Isabel paced the tiny room, unable to calm the emotions raging inside her. Their conversation had left her terrified and furious. Though unable to protect her physically, he was doing what he could to prepare her emotionally for the difficult choices she’d face. Part of her was grateful for his concern, but the other part rebelled. Did he really think she could walk away and leave him to whatever cruel fate their captors would devise for him? The idea left her sick to her stomach. She didn’t even want to consider that she or Manuel might not live through this ordeal. The thought was too horrible.
Just when she finally found the man she wanted to spend the rest of her life with, a man who loved both her and God with intensity, circumstances threatened to tear them apart forever.
God, how am I supposed to deal with this?
The tears she’d suppressed for Manuel’s sake now streamed down her cheeks. Not wanting to wake him, she pressed a hand over her mouth to muffle the sobs she couldn’t deny. Perhaps it was selfish of her to want a promise of a future with this man. At the very least, she hoped he wouldn’t pay with his life for her foolish mistakes.
She dropped to her knees beside the rickety chair and let her deepest plea spill out of her heart.
I never realized how much impact one decision could have on my life. I keep thinking, if only I’d known. If only I’d taken time to pray about dating Raúl. But I didn’t, and I can’t change that now. So, I’m asking You for mercy. If there is a way to salvage our lives in spite of my mistake, please rescue us. If not ….