Eye of the Storm by Amy McKinley

Author:Amy McKinley [McKinley, Amy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Arrowscope Press, LLC
Published: 2018-03-05T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter 14

Chris

Ten shots had been administered. Chris ran his fingers through his hair and paced. He could only wait now. The bandage she wore was freshly changed, and the puncture marks looked good. They were lucky. He’d heard of—and even seen—some cases where the wound would pus, the toxin virtually eating the tissue.

As often as he was comfortable, he woke her long enough to ply her with liquids, hoping to aid her body’s fight. Evening had passed, and night ushered in on its heels. He still needed to slip out of their camp to survey the perimeter. In the light of the moon, he’d tied tripwires all around them. They were not easy to spot. Even if someone got past them, he’d taken other measures and set traps to alert him.

Needing something to do, he went outside their hideaway and did another sweep of the area. Through the trees, a patch of brown and green shifted, and he crouched down. Careful of the root buttresses spreading over the ground from the tree, he maneuvered behind the thick trunk.

There were two of them.

Staying low and peering around the edge, Chris tracked the guerrillas as they headed in the opposite direction. That didn’t mean he and Mari were in the clear. The men could easily swing back around. In a little while, he would have to look for them again.

Each moment that ticked by eased the tension in his body. He waited a good thirty minutes. With no one in sight, Chris ducked back beneath the fallen branch to check on Mari. Relief washed over him when he saw her lashes flutter open. “Good to see you’re back.” He lifted the netting and brushed her hair away from her cheek. It hung loose in long waves.

Mouth curving into a grin, she gave him a wink. “As if there was any doubt.”

He handed her the canteen so the water could ease her scratchy throat. “Not a one. You pulled through like a champ.” He talked in whispers, and she mimicked him. “How are you feeling?”

She took another gulp before answering him. “The intense pain is gone. For that I’m grateful.” Her large brown eyes filled with tears. “I swear the jungle hates me. The longer we stay here, the lower I think my chances are of making it out.”

With his fingertip, he brushed aside a tear that escaped. “I’ll keep you alive. Stop worrying about that. Tell me what you’re feeling so I can figure out what else you need.” He pulled out the vial with antibiotic and prepared another syringe. “I want to make sure you don’t get an infection, so bear with me for a sec.” He wiped her skin with an alcohol pad and quickly gave her a shot.

“How does my ankle look? Will I lose my leg?” Her voice cracked, and he ached for her.

“No, babe.” The pads of his fingers gently caressed her cheek. “You’re going to be good as new in a few days.” He peeled back the loose bandage, cleaned the wound again, and replaced it with a new one.

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