“What else can I do?” Jack asked, standing close beside her.
“He’s lost a tremendous amount of blood. I need to try and get his fluid volume back up.”
She concentrated on the mechanics of sustaining the man’s life, trying not to think about what would happen to them after this was all done; when this man died.
Removing the extra-large surgical pad from its packaging, Sophie lifted the mass of soiled rags covering the mangled tissue and tossed them on the floor. The wound continued to seep blood, making her question how Cruz still lived.
Placing the pad on top, she said, “Jack, you’ll have to apply pressure to the wound, but first I need you to get a syringe and the vial of medication labeled epinephrine.”
Sophie had already examined the man and couldn’t find an exit wound. She had no choice but to leave the bullet in, focusing on treating the symptoms. The epi would hopefully elevate his blood pressure.
“Is this right?” Jack asked, holding out the small glass vial and needle.”
Their eyes met briefly. Sophie hoped she didn’t look as hopeless as Jack. “Yes, thank you.” She gave him an encouraging smile. “Just apply gentle pressure to the wound.”
Behind her, she heard the group of men murmuring and she involuntarily shuddered. When she’d first walked in, the stench of blood and body odor had overwhelmed her. One man had stepped in front of her, groping at her body and leering at her with brown stained teeth. Alberto had shoved him out of the way and escorted Sophie to Cruz. At least his desire for her to attend to their leader remained in the forefront. For now.
Drawing up the medication, Sophie once again focused her attention on her patient. If she didn’t get his volume and pressure up, Cruz would go into hypovolemic shock. Realistically, she guessed he was already there. After all, his blood pressure had barely registered.
Her hand shook slightly as she injected the bolus of medicine through the IV port. Then she opened up the roller clamp and squeezed the IV bag gently, so it dripped continuously. She needed to get as much fluid in as quickly as possible.
Mentally, she thought about everything she didn’t have: Oxygen, whole blood and an operating room where she could repair the internal damage left from the bullet ripping apart his gut.
Placing her fingers against Cruz’s throat, she found his thready and rapid pulse, a sure sign of hypovolemic shock and eventual death. Cruz hadn’t stirred, and his respiratory rate remained shallow. Without a miracle, there was no way he’d last an hour.
“Jack, I need you to leave that for a minute. Come over here and gently apply pressure to the IV bag. Just do it like this,” she said, placing her hands around the bag and demonstrating for him. Then she gathered what she needed to suture what was left or recognizable. All she was doing now was buying time. The longer he lived, the better chance she and Jack had of finding a way to escape.
Blood oozed out of the wound, making her task even more difficult. Without the help of lighting or the ability to cauterize the blood vessels, she sutured what she could. It was a mess, but Sophie continued to sew up the mangled tissue.
The men in the room relaxed when they saw both of their prisoners were actually doing the job they’d been hijacked to do. Except for the occasional grunt or sporadic word, she could almost ignore them.
While Jack kept steady pressure on the IV bag, Sophie alternately blotted the seeping blood and sutured until her fingers ached.
“The bag’s almost empty,” Jack said.
She looked up and met his eyes. “Do you think you can hang another one?”
“Sure.”
He picked up the bag and ripped open the package. “I guess I pull this tab, right?”
“Yes. Then remove the empty bag and push the spike into the new one.”
It was such a relief to be able to talk to him freely. She needed to keep him occupied so there would be no reason to dispose of her assistant.
“You don’t happen to know how to take a blood pressure do you?” she asked him after a few minutes.
“I’ve learned before, I just don’t know if I’ll remember how to do it correctly.”
“Give it a try in a minute, but first I need you to get about six or seven 4x4’s. Open them and hand them to me one at a time.”
Sophie took each gauze pad and did her best to pack the wound. The materials weren’t optimal and, of course, nothing was sterile.
Removing her soiled gloves, she went ahead and took the man’s vital signs herself. While his pulse remained rapid, she could detect a slight improvement. His blood pressure was even up a little. At least enough to keep him alive for a few more hours. Beyond that, it would be up to God.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Jack’s heart nearly stopped when Sophie removed her gloves, like she was done. He glanced at the patient, who didn’t look any better. Was the guy even breathing? Heck, Jack couldn’t even tell if he was still breathing. He watched, and when Cruz took a shallow breath, Jack felt his own lungs expand with relief.
Alberto stood. “Cruz is better?” he asked, looking hopeful.
Sweat trickled down Jack’s back as he glanced at Sophie. “He wants to know if he’s better.”
Sophie answered diplomatically, without the slightest hesitation. “Yes. His blood pressure has improved, and his heartbeat is more regular. I’ll need to continue to monitor him throughout the night, and he’ll need more IV fluids.”
How could she continue to be so cool and collected? If they survived, it would be because of Sophie. Jack repeated the prognosis. The men were jovial with the news. Jack hated to think about what the men’s reaction would be when Cruz died.
Jack noticed Sophie swaying slightly. Alberto must have noticed too because suddenly he turned into Mr. Nice Guy. He smiled and pulled out a chair for Sophie. “Sit, señorita.” Then he offered her a drink from his flask.
Sophie wrinkled her nose slightly. “I don’t drink alcohol.”
Alcohol? Jack briefly scanned the room. Just great. It looked like they were all drinking. Before he knew it, there would be a room full of intoxicated men. In Spanish, Jack tactfully said, “The doctor needs a clear head to continue taking care of Cruz.”
Shrugging his shoulders, Alberto took another drink. Jack felt hopeless at ever getting out of this alive. He could see the way all of the men lustfully eyed Sophie. Even with a bruised and dirty face, she was still beautiful.
Alberto must have already been feeling the buzz. Grinning at Jack, he said, “Amigo, have a seat next to the doctor.” Then he held out his flask. “Would you like a drink?”
Jack would need more than one drink to feel better. “Sí,” Jack replied. “Agua would be good for both the doctor and me.”
Raul sniggered. “He isn’t man enough for your whiskey.”
The other men laughed, and Alberto pointed to the floor where some of their supplies had been rifled through and dumped. “Give Jack some agua,” Alberto said, using his first name. “He can share with the doctor.”
A skinny man with horrible acne, and who was wearing a dirty white T-shirt, tossed a bottle of water to Jack. Instinctively he caught it. Unscrewing the lid, Jack offered the bottle to Sophie.
She hesitated and then took a long drink. Wordlessly, Sophie handed the bottle back to him. Their fingers brushed slightly, and Jack treasured the contact, however limited. Taking a drink from the same bottle somehow made him feel closer to her.
While the rest of the men became loud and boisterous, Raul’s face darkened. Awesome. It looked like the guy was also a mean drunk. Raul kept his eyes solely on Sophie, the lustful look making Jack shake inside with anger.
Desperate to figure a way out of this, Jack shifted his eyes to look at Cruz. He hadn’t stirred, but he could still see his chest rising. How much longer would he hold on? Even though Sophie’s report had been optimistic, it didn’t take a brain surgeon to figure out the guy was not going to make it. When Cruz died, so would they.
Sophie shifted in h
er seat uncomfortably, drawing attention to herself. Raul’s gaze intensified as he took another drink. Wiping his mouth with the back of hand, he stood and walked in their direction, stopping in front of Sophie.
He challenged Jack with his eyes before taking his filthy hand and slowly caressing Sophie’s bruised cheek. “Eres una mujer hermosa.”
You are a beautiful woman, Jack translated in his head. He clenched his jaw and fought back the urge to strike the man.
To her credit, Sophie didn’t draw back at his touch. The move would only incite the menacing man. Raul dropped his hand and took another swig from his flask. Shifting his eyes again, Raul glared at Jack, one corner of his lip curling into a sneer. “Soon, mi amigo. Soon she will be mine.”
Jack clutched his hands to the chair and, using great restraint, lowered his eyes. Raul chuckled darkly, almost daring Jack to give him a reaction. Praying for strength, Jack was able to remain silent. His taut muscles only relaxed marginally when Raul walked away and took a seat in the corner of the room.
It didn’t take long for the men’s attention to return to Sophie. The crude remarks made him glad she didn’t speak Spanish. With each passing minute, he grew more and more desperate, as did his prayers.
The door swung open. An older woman, dressed in a yellow shirt and denim skirt, burst into the hut ranting in Spanish. “Get out! Get out!” She pointed a finger in Alberto’s face. “The food is ready, and it is too early to be drinking.”
Alberto chuckled. “But we are celebrating. The doctor has done well. Cruz will live.”
The petite woman, with salt and pepper colored hair, looked to be in her sixties. She clucked her tongue and shook her head at the group of men. “No celebrating. Go eat before the food grows cold. There will be time for a fiesta tonight.”
Alberto reluctantly stood. He stumbled drunkenly, and the men roared with laughter. Jack prayed fervently that the woman could actually succeed in vacating the room.
Alberto pointed his finger and barked, “Raul, bind them to the chairs.” Then he glowered at Jack. “Tell the doctor if Cruz needs her help she is to tell Maria. We will always have a man nearby.”
Taking the rope from his belt, Raul tied their hands behind them. He wound the rope through the slats of the chair, and Jack felt him yank on the bindings tightly. Circling in front, Raul brought his face within inches of Jack’s. “I will be back,” he warned in a low, threatening voice.
Maria patted Raul on the arm. “Leave me with my Cruz. Go. Go.”
Reluctantly, Raul moved to the doorway, with Maria still clutching his arm. Tears coursed down the older woman’s cheeks. “Por favor,” she pleaded softly.
Casting Jack one last dark look, Raul left them alone.
Who is this woman? Jack stared at the door, still amazed the men were gone. He didn’t know how, but this had to be the chance he and Sophie needed to getaway.
Maria moved to Cruz’s bedside, taking his hand. “Mi hijo,” she moaned softly. With her other hand, she crossed herself and prayed out loud for her son.
Not knowing how long they had, Jack turned his gaze on Sophie. “Are you okay?” he mouthed.
Her eyes filled with tears. “Yes,” she whispered softly.
“I love you,” he said quietly, unable to help himself.
A tear slipped down Sophie’s bruised, swollen face. “I love you, too.”
Jack tugged on his bound arms in vain. The effort caused his chair to scrape against the dirt floor. Jack froze as Maria turned to look at him. Their eyes remained locked, and Jack desperately wished he could read her thoughts. Could he trust her? “Por favor. Help us escape.”
Her lips pinched together, and Jack held his breath, praying she would help them. Quietly, she turned and placed her son’s hand across his chest. Then she went to the door and partially stepped outside. Cautiously, Maria scanned the area.
Neither he or Sophie spoke as they watched her come back inside.
“The men will get drunk and sleep. They cannot stop themselves,” she said, looking at Jack.
Hope filled Jack’s heart. “Will you help us, Maria?”
She nodded her head. “Sí.” She ran a hand through her salt and pepper hair with agitation. “But Raul, he will not sleep. He will only become more cruel. I must help you escape before he returns.”
“Muchas gracias,” Jack said. He turned to Sophie. “She says she’ll help us escape once the men pass out.”
Sophie started to weep, and Jack pulled at the ropes again, wanting to hold her close.
“We must wait a little longer,” Maria said, looking at Sophie with compassion. She pulled out a cigarette from her pocket and lit it. After taking a long drag, she cast Jack a somber look. “If Raul comes before then, you will have to kill him.”
As much he hated the man, Jack wasn’t sure he could actually take his life. He glanced at Sophie, saw the bruises marring her face and knew he would do whatever it would take to keep her safe. “I can’t do anything tied up to this chair.”
“Sí, I know.” Maria blew out a circle of smoke. “I will release you, but you have to take me with you. My Cruz will not live much longer. Then his mamá will no longer be welcome here.”
“Of course we’ll take you,” Jack assured her. “Please, untie my hands.”
Maria held the cigarette between her lips and moved behind Jack. The rope bit into his skin as she tugged at the knots.
“What did she say?” Sophie asked, her voice quivering with emotion.
Although Jack wanted to spare Sophie the details, he felt impressed to reveal everything to her, including Maria’s directive to kill Raul if he returned.
Sophie wrinkled up her brow. “But you don’t have a weapon.”
The observant comment was the truth, something Jack was fully aware of. “Then I’m going to have to get creative.”
He looked around the room, trying to find anything that could work. Aside from the basic medical supplies, there were a few bamboo chairs and the rope Maria was loosening. If he had time, he could break apart a chair and try to sharpen the end. What he’d use to make a sharp point was one drawback to that plan. Right now he’d settle for a reasonable length of the bamboo to create a makeshift Billy Club.
“Jack,” Sophie said, bringing his gaze back to hers. “I know how to take care of Raul.”
“I’m open to suggestions.” While the guy was despicable, Jack didn’t actually want to kill anyone. Sophie’s idea most likely didn’t involve brutality.
“Ketamine. I have a few vials of ketamine. The drug is very fast acting and will impair his motor function, making him virtually paralyzed.”
“I’ll need to inject it in him?” he asked uneasily. His aversion to needles seemed to be lessening day by day. But he could do it—heck, it would beat trying to take the man down with his bare hands.
“Yes, but don’t worry. I can do it,” Sophie volunteered.
Jack scowled. “Absolutely not. I’ll do it. I don’t want him to touch you ever again.”
“Thank you.” Tears filled Sophie’s eyes, and her lips trembled as she gave him a soft smile.
He had to force his muscles to relax as Maria worked at the knots in the rope. Finally, the tension slackened, and Jack was able to wiggle free from his bonds.
“Gracias,” Jack said, standing up. He moved behind Sophie, immediately working on her bindings. They weren’t nearly as tight as Jack’s. Within thirty seconds, she was free. Jack swept her into his arms, hugging her close. “I thought I’d lost you,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her hair.
“I know.” Sophie’s grip tightened around his back. “Thank you for saving me.”
He pulled back, studying her bruised face. Softly, he trailed his fingertips over the discolored skin. “I can’t believe they hit you.”
She sniffed and blinked back her tears. “I’m okay.”
“Shh.” Maria glanced nervously at the door. She took one last drag of her cigarette and dropped it to the ground, crushi
ng it with the heel of her shoe.
Right. There would be time for this later. Jack released his hold on Sophie. “So, you really think this ketamine will work?”
“Yes. It’s commonly used on large animals like horses.” Sophie quickly moved to pick up her medical bag. “I’ll get it ready while you round up a few of our supplies.”
Maria stood guard while Sophie drew up the medication, and Jack gathered what goods he could carry, shoving them into his backpack the thugs had taken. Among the mess, he found the compass Hector had given him for his birthday a few years back. Slipping the compass in his pocket, Jack didn’t allow himself to think about his friend. Deep down, he felt Hector was still alive—he had to be.
“Raul,” Maria said fearfully, “I think he is coming.”
Jack’s gut clenched tight with apprehension. “She said Raul’s coming.”
Sophie’s face paled as she handed him a syringe. He noticed she retained an identical one for herself. “Where should I try to inject it?” Jack asked, his hands shaking slightly from the adrenaline rush.
“He has lightweight pants on. Aim for the thigh muscle.”
Jack looked pointedly at the syringe in her hand. “I see you have back up ready.”
She gave him a wobbly smile. “Just in case.”
Maria crossed herself and prayed softly, moving away from the entrance.
Jack mentally prepared himself for what he needed to do. He was counting on Raul’s reflexes being impaired by his alcohol consumption. Hopefully it would give Jack the upper hand.
“Sophie, you need to get over there by Maria,” Jack instructed tightly. The last thing he needed to worry about was her getting hurt.
“Jack, please be careful.” She backed up, fear evident on her face.
“I will,” he said, his voice gruff. “Don’t stop praying.”
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