After that, it was a slow death. Water would keep them alive for what, five days at most… under the best of circumstances. That was if the water… no, she couldn’t think about that. They’d both drunk the water over three hours before and neither of them showed signs of it causing any turmoil inside their bodies.
“If I’m going to die in here—”
“You’re not going to die.”
Ignoring his words, she pushed on. “If I’m going to die in here I don’t want to do it looking over your dead broken body. I’ve seen enough dead broken bodies.” With her last words, she made sure her eyes met his.
“You’re not going to die,” he whispered.
Avoiding his pointed eyes… eyes of a man who didn’t lie and had sounded so much more convincing when he’d uttered those words the day before, Monica’s gaze fell on her leg.
Blood soaked her small bandage.
The night was worse. The dark… the quiet.
Trent gave up his need to climb the walls and helped Monica redress her leg before the sun set. The inside temperature of the cave was warmer than it had been the night before. Yet even as the thought crossed Monica’s mind she knew the temperature of the cave was the same. It was her temperature that rose.
She had an open fracture and even though she’d jumped on cleaning it, dressing it… no use wondering what she could have done differently. Her leg was hot, her insides weren’t right.
Luckily, Trent seemed well enough.
“I always wanted to learn how to play the piano,” she said out of nowhere.
“Why didn’t you?” Trent asked in the dark, her head cradled in his lap. He insisted on staying alert in case he heard something in the night.
“We didn’t have money growing up. My mom still lives in the double-wide we grew up in. Jack offered to put her in something a little nicer, but she didn’t want it.”
His hand stroked her hair as they talked.
“Is there anything on your bucket list?”
He chuckled, thinking of something he wasn’t saying.
“What?” she asked.
“I always wanted to go on one of those cattle ranch weekends with the guys. You know, live on the range for a few days.”
“Like that movie… oh what was the name of it?” She pictured the lead actors but not the name of the film.
“There’s one thing… only one thing,” Trent said in his best cowboy voice.
“You only have to find out what that one thing is,” she finished for him. “Who would you go with?”
“My brothers. They’d hate it.” His chest moved with his laugh.
“Why?”
“They’re the corporate type. Good guys, don’t get me wrong, but they both like the office more than the outdoors.”
“Stuffy?”
“No, no… just suited for the city. They didn’t get why I moved here.”
“Why did you move here?”
He took a deep breath, blew it out. “After my parents died I needed something new. I don’t know, something different.”
“Did you feel trapped when they were alive?”
“No. Not that. I just needed something else.”
Monica ignored the warmth under her shirt and the sweat under her hair and closed her eyes as they spoke. “And now you’re ready to go home?”
“Past time,” he said.
Home sounded good. Really good.
Chapter Sixteen
They flew in search and rescue teams from Texas and California. The California team had members of the fire departments surrounding the hospital in which Monica worked. Several of the men knew her personally. Jessie was overwhelmed by their support and desire to drop everything in aide of finding her sister and Trent. Unfortunately, that support didn’t find them instantly. It took hours for the teams to arrive and devise a plan.
While Jack and Jessie set up camp on Trent’s property, which included actual tents for the company of men and women on the search, Glen and Jason flew in Blue Paradise Helicopters and did aerial searches.
There were over a dozen friends of Trent’s, and a few new friends of Monica’s that were on foot or in cars looking for the missing couple.
A new face pulled up in an old jalopy that rivaled the car she owned before she met Jack. The man parked beside the house and jumped out of the car. Jessie welcomed the new arrival, in fact she welcomed anyone willing to help.
“You must be Monica’s sister,” the man said.
“I am.”
“I’m Walt. I work with Monica.”
“One of the doctors?”
“Yeah. Dr. Eddy.”
He ran a hand through his short brown hair. His hazel eyes looked as tired as Jessie felt. Jessie remembered a few conversations she’d had with Monica about Dr. Eddy, and for some reason never thought he’d be a young attractive man.
“Have we heard anything?” Dr. Eddy asked.
Jessie shook her head. Jack was on foot, somewhere, Gaylord at his side. Jessie stayed behind to help direct traffic and keep those who helped fed. Ginger barked at the newcomers until they greeted her with a pet.
“Not a word.” Jessie looked beyond the doctor, half expecting him to arrive with more people. “Are there others coming?”
“Dr. Klein is still at the main hospital. The rest of the team has already left the island or are leaving in the morning.”
They needed a village. “You’re staying?”
Dr. Eddy kicked the dirt off his shoes. “I’m the one who introduced Monica to Borderless Nurses. I’m not leaving until we find her.”
His conviction came through with a tight voice. Jessie couldn’t help but wonder if maybe Dr. Eddy had deeper feelings for Monica.
“You know she was last seen with Trent Fairchild, right?”
Dr. Eddy shook his head, a small smile on his lips. “Yeah. Nice guy. They seemed to be getting along… well, getting along.”
“And you’re OK with that?”
“Me? Oh… you think Monica and I?” He shook his head, dismissing any thought in Jessie’s mind about a romantic attraction. “Oh, no. Monica’s like a sister to me. She doesn’t put up with anyone’s shit, she’s the best damn nurse I’ve ever worked with, and if something’s happened to her—”
She held up her hand, stopping him. “We’ll find her, Dr. Eddy.”
“Walt.”
Jessie smiled.
She bent over a map of the island and pointed out where the current searches were taking place. “The helicopters are coming down with the sun. My husband and team one are concentrating their efforts here, team two is here.” She pointed to places along the road.
“This is the clinic. Did anyone get beyond this point?”
“Not yet. Reynard thinks Trent would have stayed on the south side of the island because of the water damage. So far there’s nothing along the shore to indicate they are there.”
“The island is full of waterfalls, pools… Trent might have taken her someplace like that.”
Jessie sighed. “Someplace romantic.”
“Exactly.”
“Yeah, we’ve thought of that. The locals are checking out the hot spots for romance. Most are met with clear roads and no signs of Trent’s car.”
“I’m guessing that he didn’t take her to a house… a hotel.”
“The hotels aren’t taking in guests.”
“And Monica is too dedicated to her job to toss her responsibilities to the wind for an island fling.”
Jessie’s heart flipped in her chest with worry. “Monica’s the most responsible person I know. She’s always been determined to make her own way. She’d never run away with any guy. It’s just not the way she’s built.”
Walt studied the map. “Ice Queen,” he whispered.
“What’s that?”
He shook his head. “Nothing. So we agree that she didn’t run off, and she’s not in a hotel.”
“Or if she was in a home, a cabin, something… and the next quake
came along…” God, Jessie hated to think like that. But something was keeping her sister away. They processed Monica’s personality and the map.
“It was a big jolt,” Walt said. “I called the clinic after it hit. Portions of it came down. Luckily Monica had already moved the patients from that section when she noticed dust coming down a couple of days before.”
Monica’s bossiness followed her everywhere. “Her common sense wouldn’t have put her in a crumbling house. Even for great sex.”
“Where does that leave?”
“Open spaces? Secluded beach? I wish I knew this Trent guy better. Knew what he did around here.”
“Monica wouldn’t have volunteered for a helicopter ride.”
“Right. Hates heights.” Jessie was glad to know Walt knew that much about her sister.
“That leaves something close by.” Walt tapped his hand on the map.
“You’d think.”
Jessie swallowed the lump in her throat. “You’d think.”
Something shook his leg, waking him. Trent opened his eyes to complete darkness.
Like a blind man waking for the first time in a dark world, it took him a moment to process where he was, why he couldn’t see, and what had woken him.
The shaking started again. Accompanying it was a moan. Monica’s moan.
He dropped a hand to her shoulder, expecting to wake her from a dream, only to remove his wet palm.
She shivered again, a violent trembling movement that should have woken her, but didn’t.
Inside he started to panic. He ran a hand over her forehead, felt the heat radiating from her, the sweat.
“Monica? My angel?” His words were whispered at first and then became louder when she didn’t wake. “Monica!”
She woke saying, “I’m cold.”
Those two words let him know she was alive, coherent. “You’re burning up.”
He fumbled around in the dark for his phone. It took a few seconds to locate it and turn it on. The battery power showed half strength.
Her blonde locks were flush against her head, her face rosy with too much color.
Even in the dark, he noticed her eyes lose focus before finding him. “Motrin.”
The backpack holding her belongings was under her leg. He lifted her injured limb away and once again fumbled around until he found what she needed.
Motrin would take care of it. It’s just a fever. Everyone gets them from time to time.
Yet even as he thought the words deep inside he knew the larger danger. She’d been working with the sick, the injured for over a week. He’d seen her leg earlier in the day when she didn’t think he watched. The angry skin had turned red and swollen beyond any wound he’d ever seen. She’d hid it from him quickly when he’d turned and looked.
He poured two pills into his hand and helped her sit up to take the medicine.
She swallowed the medicine with pinched lips. “Thank you.”
Trent pushed her hair behind her ears. “You’re hot.”
She smiled, licked her lips. “You’re not so bad yourself, Barefoot.”
How could she joke? “C’mon, Monica. I’m out of my element. What can I do?”
“Is it cold in here?”
“No.”
“Do I feel hot?”
He nodded. “Like hell on fire.”
Her eyes dropped closed before she reached down and slowly removed her shirt. Her pink bra sat on pasty skin in the dark cave. She handed him her shirt. “Soak it in water.” A tremor shook her as she spoke.
When he returned to her, soaked shirt in hand, she attempted to place it back over her chest. Her fingers fumbled in the task, her eyes sought his for help.
Trent slid the cool clothing over her hot skin, and tried not to wince each time she shivered. “I’ve got to stay cool.”
“What’s happened?” As if he didn’t know.
“I don’t think it-it’s Ebola,” she managed.
“That’s not funny, Monica.”
A smile met her lips, her glazed-over eyes found his. “Infection. Open fractures do that,” she said.
“We cleaned it out.”
She shrugged. “With dirty water at best.” A shiver raked her frame, making her teeth rattle.
The light from his phone turned off and he grabbed it to make it light up the room again. Crazy how such a small thing lit a room.
“What can I do?” He’d never felt so helpless in his life.
“Keep me cool. Even if I beg, keep me cool.”
Beg? Why would she beg? Then it dawned on him. Movies portrayed the sick as incoherent, unable to see reason. He’d never seen anyone lose it. Yet he sat there with a nurse who’d probably seen all that and more.
“I’m a sucker for a begging woman.”
She licked her already dry lips, sipped more water, and lay back down. He had no choice but to return to his post as her personal pillow.
“I always thought Mary Ann was prettier than G-Ginger,” Monica managed to say once the phone went dark.
Trent stared into the darkness and tried his level best to ignore the voice in his head that said they were both going to die in this goddamned cave.
“Homegrown. Midwestern girl.”
“Hey,” she managed to sound indignant through her fever. “I’m homegrown. California grown, but kinda small town.”
He stroked her fevered brow as much for her as for him. “You don’t seem the Ginger type. Did you want to be a movie star?”
“No. Too many people to depend on for that to happen. I need to take care of myself.”
How much it must hurt to have to depend on anyone. Then it dawned on him… she hadn’t needed to pee in hours.
Monica woke several hours later, her body full of heat and ready to explode. Unlike the last time she opened her eyes, this time the cave was filled with light. Almost blinding. “Trent?” she called out when she realized he wasn’t at her side.
“Monica?” He scrambled from the far side of the cave. “You’re awake.”
“What time is it?”
“Nearly noon, I think.”
A tut tut of her head pounded against her temple. The pain in her leg felt like a dull throb attached to her knee.
“Here.” Trent brought her into a sitting position and helped tip the bottle of water to her lips.
The nasty taste trickled down her throat and threatened to come back up. She pushed his hand away when he tried to give her more. “I can’t,” she uttered.
“You have to drink more.”
She met his worried gaze. “Later,” she whispered. “Have you heard anything?”
Trent followed her eyes to the top of the cave. “A helicopter flew over hours ago.”
“They didn’t see your Jeep.” Would they fly over again? Look harder?
“They might have.” He rubbed at the three days of stubble on his chin and tried to smile. “We’re getting out of here, Monica. I promise you, we’ll get out of here.”
She nodded, holding on to his lie. Giving up without a fight wasn’t in her. Not yet anyway. “Well, when you put it like that,” she teased. “Maybe our next date can be a little shorter.”
The water dripping into the pool picked up its pace. They both focused on the hole in the cave. “It’s raining.”
“All these years I’ve been afraid of heights. When I get home, I’m going to sleep with the light on.”
“And I’m going to paint my Jeep yellow.”
“Good idea.”
“You must be hungry.” He jumped up, grabbed the bag with the food inside.
She agreed although she wasn’t. Not a good sign. While he dug into their dwindling supplies Monica peeked under the bandage on her leg. There had been many times she’d seen infected limbs, but never could she actually feel the pain associated with them. She wiggled her toes, thankful that at least her circulation wasn’t gone.
“Here.” Trent handed her a protein bar.
Her fingers didn’t cooperate
with the wrapper. When Trent took the food from her, she tried to fist her hands and found it hard to do. The symptom struck her as odd, something that she should understand, but didn’t.
“Did you eat?” she asked when she took a bite.
“Earlier.”
The granular consistency of fake peanut butter and chocolate was hard to swallow. “I’ll never eat these again,” she said between bites.
Trent opened his mouth to comment when something from above caught their attention. Trent was on his feet standing next to the pool in a heartbeat. “Hello?” he yelled. “Hello?”
Monica strained to hear a reply, something.
Painful silence met the room.
Trent kept yelling. His voice growing more desperate each time he cried out.
Chapter Seventeen
Jessie clenched her phone in her hand, desperate to hear anything. Jack had left before dawn with the others. He called every hour, each time reporting the same thing. They’d not found the car Trent drove, or any sign at all.
The daunting task of updating her mother back in California, and Katie and Dean in Texas, weighed on her. Monica and Trent had been gone three nights and four days. Each passing hour chipped away at the hope of their survival.
Why couldn’t Monica be the type of woman to tell her responsibilities to blow off and run away with a guy? Having a flaky sister was better than having no sister at all.
She squeezed her eyes shut, felt a teardrop down her cheek. Desperate, she called Monica’s phone again. It rang, then voice mail picked up. “I love you, Mo. Please get this and call me. Please. I need you,” she sobbed. “I love you.”
Jessie dropped her hand in her lap and stared at the screen with Monica’s picture. Her laughing eyes and beautiful smile.
Jessie had taken the picture when they were searching for bridesmaid’s dresses for Katie’s wedding. What the camera didn’t show was the horrible dress Katie had made Monica try on. Katie’s taste in clothing was impeccable, but as a joke, she told Monica how much she loved the ruffled taffeta in pea green. It was awful. Jessie had snapped a picture when Katie informed Monica that the joke was on her. Monica had been so relieved and then oddly proud of Katie’s deception. She’d promised to make it up someday.
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