Healing Love: Saints Protection & Investigation (11 page)

“Affirmative.”

“What do you need?”

“Right now, I’m working about half a mile from her and can see her when she’s driven past. Keeping a low profile. Once we get out of the immediate area, I can keep her hidden and we can travel quickly. It’s just gonna be getting close to her again. Working on it.”

“I’ll be in touch. Good luck, man.”

Disconnecting, Cam made his way back from his break, no one the wiser.

The opportunity to get closer to the hospital presented itself later that afternoon when part of the building crumbled onto several of the workers. Cam was one of them. Though unharmed, he managed to be taken to the infirmary.

To his good fortune, Miriam came out to greet the truck. Speaking in broken Spanish, she gave orders and he was carried inside. The doctor determined that there were no broken bones, just some cuts and abrasions. Dr. Villogas moved to the other worker, who had suffered a broken leg. Miriam managed to get to Cam, taking over cleaning his cuts and applying bandages.

“Was worried,” she whispered.

“Hated leaving without letting you know where I was,” he admitted. “You okay?”

She gave a nearly imperceptible nod as she continued to put antiseptic on his abrasions.

His gaze took in the infirmary and then came back to her face. “Don’t see the other two nurses.”

“Sharon was taken to the main house, supposedly to take care of one of the leader’s children. I…I think she is trying to get out that way.”

“She’s a fool,” he mumbled.

Nodding, she agreed. “Lorainne is very ill. I’m scared for her.”

“Just take care of yourself, Miriam. I’m working on a plan, but we gotta move carefully.” He watched her as she finished with his leg and arm and then pulled off his t-shirt so that she could bandage his back. Hearing the intake of breath, he glanced over before realizing that she was admiring his physique. He had had a lot of women appreciate his body, but that little gasp from her lips shot straight to his dick.
Down boy. This is not the time or the place…or the girl.
Forcing his thoughts to a halt, he leaned forward so that she could reach the injuries easier.

“Tell me where you sleep,” he whispered.

“My room is in the compound and takes about five minutes to drive there,” she whispered back. “Down the main road. There is a tall wall around and we go through the gate.”

“Gotta have more, sweetheart.”

The endearment warmed her insides but shocked her.
Perhaps I’ve lived in fear so long that any man with a kind word would make me feel this way.
But even as she thought it, she knew her feelings were not stirred by just any man…it was this man.

Licking her lips, she continued, “Once inside the gate, go to the left and we are in the third building, next to the wall. Only has one floor and my room is on the right corner. I share it with Sister Genovia, Sharon, and Lorainne.”

Looking up sharply at him, she asked, “Can you get us all out?”

“No idea, but I’ll do my best. Say nothing to anyone.”

Nodding her head in agreement, she continued to clean his injuries. As she finished she bent over his body, seemingly to gather the materials from the bed, and whispered, “Thank you for coming. I know you put your life at risk.”

He glanced over and saw her battling tears. “Don’t cry, baby girl. I’ll figure something out.” With that, he stood, and with a polite nod, made his way out of the tent and back to his work site.

He had seen the way the doctor stared at Miriam. While it appeared that the man’s itch was being scratched by the willing nurse from California, it probably would not be long before he either became bored or realized that she wanted everything she could get…or both. And the beautiful Nurse Miriam would be worth the conquest. Knowing they had a limited amount of time, he worked out an escape route and needed to go over it with Marc the next time they talked.

The following day, with one of the workers out with his injuries, Cam was able to finagle a chance to drive the truck loaded with building rubble and take the vehicle to a dump. He jumped at the opportunity to build upon his escape route.

The trip took him down a dirt road until he was on a paved highway. Several miles away, he turned onto another dirt road and followed it until he came to a river. He could see the pile of rocks and building materials that had been unceremoniously dumped nearby. As he operated the truck bed to unload its contents, his sharp gaze moved quickly in the area. Knowing the river was there, he noted the direction it was flowing. Away from where he had come from and would eventually lead to the ocean.

Calling Marc once more, he said, “Get me the specs on the river that runs nearby. About five miles from the compound. If it works, we can get here and make it down the river toward the ocean.”

“Got it. Sending the info to Luke now and will get back as soon as I can.”

Disconnecting the phone, he moved the gears so that the truck bed slammed back into place and drove back to his workplace. He noticed the foreman glance at his watch as he backed into the loading space again.
He’s watching me,
Cam thought.
Gotta keep giving him reasons to trust me.
For the next two days, Cam helped load the dump truck and then drove numerous trips to the river dumping site.

He made contact with Marc the next day, gaining the intel needed on the river.

“You’re talking about the Fuerte River,” Marc reported. “You’re about twenty-seven miles from Los Mochis. That river’ll take you to the Gulf of California. I’ve got no way of knowing what tributary you’re on, but you follow it, it’ll get you there.”

“Any chance of a pick up before we get to the Gulf?”

“Maybe. It’s surrounded by mango plantations and believe it or not, there are river tour groups, although those ceased after the earthquake.”

“Okay. I gotta get her out as soon as I can. I managed to steal a small canoe from a local and stowed it where I go to dump rocks near the river. I’ll make contact once we are on our way.”

“This may help…or hinder, I don’t know. But a large storm is heading your way. Supposed to be about two days of torrential rain. It looks like you don’t have a lot of time before bad weather hits.”

Cam pondered this new piece of information. “That’ll be perfect. Lots of the buildings are weakened from the quake and heavy rain will keep everyone working to shore them up.”

“It’ll make traveling more difficult,” Marc warned. “Especially with someone unused to traveling like that.”

“Gotta take that chance,” Cam decided. “We’re running outta time fast.”

Disconnecting, Cam hustled to finish the dump and return to the camp. It appeared that no one was even paying attention to him anymore.
Good
.
This’ll make getting Miriam outta here a helluva lot easier.

T
hat night, Miriam
lay on her cot, sleep eluding her as the day’s horrors played over and over in her mind.

Dr. Villogas had
come to her first thing in the morning, informing her that she needed to accompany him to a nearby village where one of the weakened buildings had collapsed during the night, injuring a number of workers.

Looking around at the infirmary needs, she asked, “Can’t Sharon go with you?”

She was surprised at his reaction, noting for the first time the lines of fatigue around his eyes. His face contorted in a grimace and then it was quickly replaced by his typical expression of superiority.

“No,” he replied sharply. “I want you with me.”

Sighing deeply, she nodded. “Fine. Let me inform Sister Genovia that she’ll be short-handed today,” she said testily.

Fifteen minutes later the two were in the back of a jeep bouncing over the rough roads leading toward a village. Neither speaking, Miriam held on to the side of the roll-bar, attempting to keep her teeth from clattering as the bone-jarring pot-holes continued. Tall trees lined the cart path they were on, with nothing but vegetation as far as she could see.

The trees finally fell away and farmland was on either side of the road. A few houses came into sight and, as they rounded another bend, came to the village. She could see the men working to haul off the rubble from the collapsed building. On the ground nearby was a large tarp with several bodies lying on top, the wails of families heard above the workers’ equipment.

A man waved the jeep over and they were taken to a makeshift infirmary, similar to what she had seen before. Inside were about seven men with various injuries. She quickly went to work, auto-pilot kicking in. Assess the injuries. Prioritize. Stabilize.

She and Dr. Villogas worked side by side for several hours until the last of the injuries had been seen. Several women from the village came at noon and brought a meal for them. Accepting the food gratefully, Miriam sat in a corner for a few minutes eating the simple fare. One of the women motioned for her to follow and as she did, she was grateful when the woman showed her to a latrine. Smiling her thanks, she was able to quickly take care of her business, glad that the woman anticipated her needs.

A few more hours of work in the early afternoon and then they were back in the jeep, bouncing along. Fatigue was showing and she noticed Dr. Villogas kept glancing her way.

“Are you all right?” he eventually asked.

All right?
A rude snort escaped as she turned to look at him. “I don’t even know how to answer that.”

He had the good grace to look askance before the jeep slowed down to navigate a nasty turn in the rutted road. She noticed that they had taken a different road out of the village than they had going in, but the explanation was only that there may be trouble on the other road. Not understanding the reason, she turned from Ernesto and gazed to her side of the road.

Miriam’s eyes latched onto the sight up ahead in the grass. The stench of death rose from the ground…littered with body parts. Hacked off legs, arms, torso…and heads.

A scream erupted from her lips as she clasped a hand over her mouth. Dr. Villogas’ eyes darted to see what the cause was when his eyes landed on the carnage.

“Goddamnit,” he cursed, then yelled for the driver to get them out of there and then stop. When they had moved away from the site of terror, the jeep came to a jolting halt. Dr. Villogas jumped out and ran to the other side, reaching in and pulling Miriam out of the vehicle.

Dragging her body to the side of the road, he knelt down beside her, holding her head as she retched into the grass. Weakened, she leaned heavily onto him, shaking uncontrollably, unable to sit on her own. After several long minutes, she raised her head looking into his face, which at that moment appeared to be as ravaged as her own.

“Wh…wha…” she stammered, unable to articulate.

Sucking in a ragged breath, he said, “War.”

Her brow knitted in confusion at his one word explanation.

“Cartel wars,” he added.

The extra word hardly gave her any indication as to what she had witnessed and she continued to stare at him dumbly.

Drawing in another ragged breath, he looked at her face. “Wars are fought all over the world, Miriam. I realize it hasn’t touched you, but in many parts of the world wars are a way of life.”

She said nothing…just continued to stare.

“I’ve lived my whole life here in Sinaloa except for attending the University of Guadalajara for college and medical school.” He paused before continuing, spearing her with a stare. “My. Whole. Life.”

She gave a short nod feeling that some response was expected but still had no idea what he was saying.

“My father was a farmer. Like his father and his father before him. Mangoes until the cartels moved in and marijuana became the crop that was forced on the farmers. My parents tried to resist, but we had to eat. Now that marijuana is legalized, that cash crop has dried up and poppy is now planted on many of the farms that used to supply food to our nation.”

“You…you were in college. Why did you come back?” she asked. “You could have gotten out.”

“Your white-bread American upbringing,” he scoffed. “I was smart. Went to school, got a scholarship, became a doctor. All because that was what the cartel wanted. And the plan was for me to come back and work here.”

“But why did you come back when you could have been free?”

“My family was here,” he growled. “Here. Under their thumb.”

The realization that he had been held hostage at one time, although differently, struck her. “You felt like you couldn’t leave.”

Shaking his head, he said, “Not as long as my family was here.” He saw her expression and bit out, “Don’t pity me. I got off the farm. I live in a big house with my trophy wife and sons. I have money, prestige, and don’t have to get my hands in the dirt.”

Pressing her fingers to her lips once again, she fought back the tears that threatened to come. “Back there?” she asked, nodding toward the road.

“I told you. Cartel wars. The money to be made here is insane. And there’s always someone who wants to control the flow of fortune. The…retribution…for that, is what you saw. It serves as not only a way to get rid of insurgents but to publicly display the results is a deterrent.”

“You took an oath as a doctor. How can you condone that when you took an oath?” she asked, her voice shaking with fear and anger.

“I don’t do that,” he growled. “That massacre was not me. You’ve seen me. I patch them up, not tear them apart.” Taking her by the shoulders, he gave her a shake. “Don’t you get it? I’m trapped here, just like you are. I work to do what I can to make their lives…the lives of those like my father…better.”

“But you take their generosity. You live high, you live well.”

The quiet of the moment was broken only by the birds squawking in the tall trees that lined the road. The driver, not understanding English, still sat in the jeep eyeing the two. Letting go of her shoulders, Ernesto leaned back on his heels staring at the beauty in front of him. It had been a long time since he had witnessed that kind of passion. But her naivety could get her killed.

“All it would take is one nod from you, and I can give you that as well. Better food, a better place to lay your head at night. Clothes, jewels. Most importantly…protection.”