Playing Doctor

by Cathy Yardley

  After twenty minutes, she figured she was getting close – she thought she saw him in the distance. She decided to take a shortcut through some brush, splitting the difference, getting to him sooner. He looked agitated and was yelling on his cell phone.

  She got closer when she heard his voice carry in the desert silence.

  “I will get you the treasure. The entire treasure. Every last cent.”

  She froze, hidden by the brush. What did he just say?

  She missed the next few words, the blood rushing in her ears making it harder to hear. She tried to force herself to calm down.

  Then she heard his next cool, cruel words: “Cressida couldn’t have gotten here alone, and you know it. She needed me. I got her here. You deal with me. And don’t worry, I will handle Cressida.”

  She froze.

  I will handle Cressida.

  She tried to think of some way that wouldn’t be as bad as it sounded. Her already charged system rejected any attempt to rationalize.

  I will handle Cressida.

  He was talking to somebody – the guy he “owed”, most likely. He was talking about handing over the entire treasure, obviously not something he’d told her.

  He said he’d “handle” her.

  What does that mean?

  She felt stupid. But more importantly, she felt fear, pure and strangling.

  You can’t afford to freeze. Not now. You’re not safe.

  She fisted her hands. Then she turned and sneaked off, hiding in the vegetation as best she could. Once she was out of eyesight, she started to jog.

  The only problem was: she didn’t know where she could go to be safe.

  Chapter 11

  A stitch in her side stopped Cressida from running, but she still felt breathless as she scurried across the desert. It took her a few minutes to re-establish her bearings; she’d just run mindlessly after hearing Noah’s callous words. Now, she was out of his line of vision, and she knew that he wouldn’t start looking for her for a while yet, at least an hour by her reckoning.

  Got to get as much space between him and me as possible. Got to get to safety.

  But how?

  She closed her eyes. Panic clawed at her like a fist around her throat, and she felt waves of nausea. What did “I’ll handle Cressida” mean, anyway? He’d leave her in the desert, her throat slit? Beat her, like bear spray guy had beaten him? Or do something worse to her?

  She shook her head. She doubted it. He’d had plenty of opportunities to harm her, and he hadn’t. In fact, he’d acted the exact opposite. The way he’d held her, the way he’d made love to her…

  Were those all lies?

  Panic flooded her. She found herself hurrying again, blindly, and forced herself yet again to stop. No – she needed to think, hard as that was with the anxious thoughts flying through her head like a tornado. She briefly thought about going back to the treasure. But that wasn’t that far – and there was a good chance he’d intercept her, take it from her, and then do whatever he intended to “handle” her. No, it was better for her to get as far away from Noah as possible. She’d find someone else to help her get the treasure. Maybe even one of her sisters, now that she knew where it was.

  She had to find people, she realized. She glanced back down at the copy of the map, hashed with pencil lines for the grid she’d been working. There was a campground or something to the northwest. She grabbed the compass. She could head that way. She thought briefly of calling 911 on her phone, but she wondered what she’d say.

  “Hello, this man I was treasure hunting with is trying to steal my share of the profits and made some vaguely threatening sounding comments on the phone!”

  They wouldn’t listen to her. No one would listen to her when she was a kid, when she tried to explain that her mother was too on edge. Why would anyone listen to her now, when a man hadn’t technically done anything to her… yet?

  She knew the score. Get to somewhere safe. She cursed her inability to drive, and the fact that she had to abandon the RV. She felt the panic growing, slick and greasy in her throat.

  Get safe.

  She kept pressing forward for the next hour. The sun seemed to grow exponentially hotter, and she couldn’t tell if it was the heat of the sun, her exertion, her dehydration, or her burgeoning anxiety. It whipped her forward, even as exhaustion slowed her down.

  Keep moving!

  She stopped for a second, resting her hands on her knees. She could feel blisters forming on her feet – she’d never walked this far, over this kind of terrain. She glanced around. There was nothing but desert for miles, from the looks of it. She was utterly, profoundly alone. Out in the open.

  Vulnerable.

  It was the moment that tripped the switch. With a little cry, she scrambled towards what looked like a trail. There was a large rock next to it with an outcropping. She scrambled underneath it, hugging her legs to her chest. She could feel her breathing growing fast, struggling for air even though there was obviously an abundance of oxygen all around her. She scrunched as far underneath the rocky overhang as possible, hiding.

  “Box… breathe…” she said, even as her body started to shake. She couldn’t seem to get a grip, couldn’t seem to even grasp the edge of getting a hold of herself. Too much had happened, and she was too far gone.

  She felt something skitter over her leg, and reflexively, she jerked.

  She saw a small black scorpion lift its tiny tail before rushing away from her.

  She let out a small scream, crawling out from the overhang and rubbing her hands frantically over herself. Tears squeezed out of her eyes.

  “Help me,” she said, even though she knew there was nobody to hear. “Help me!”

  Her phone rang. She looked at the display. Noah.

  She shut the phone off. Then she curled up in a ball, right there in the trail, and shuddered. Her breathing was out of control.

  Help me, she thought, and then passed out.

  “Miss? Miss? Are you all right?”

  She opened first one eye, then the other. The sun had moved significantly in the sky, she noticed – she must’ve been lying there out of it for a while. She looked up at the man who was speaking. He had a broad brimmed hat and a dark green uniform.

  Park ranger, she thought. Maybe Bureau of Land Management? She could never keep those straight.

  “You’re lucky I didn’t run you over,” he said, a gentle reprimand. “Why were you lying in the middle of the trail?”

  She tried to talk but panic still had its icy claws in her. Which made her notice: the sun was solidly in the west, making it late afternoon. It was getting colder, and her fleece was still wrapped around her waist. God, she’d been out of it.

  “Miss?” the man said, with a stronger note of urgency.

  She shook her head. No, she was most definitely not all right.

  “You might want to drink some water.” He offered her a bottle. “Are you injured? Did you get hurt? How long have you been out here?”

  She couldn’t quite bring herself to shake her head this time. It wasn’t like she had a medical alert bracelet; she never left the house, so what good would a Medic Alert saying “agoraphobe” do? She wasn’t injured, but she was definitely hurting.

  “Is there anyone else out here?”

  She quickly shook her head. No! He couldn’t go looking for Noah!

  “All right, then,” the man said. “How did you get all the way out here?”

  She let out a whimper of alarm. She couldn’t answer his questions. Couldn’t he see that?

  “Okay. I’m going to take you with me, all right?”

  She nodded. It was the best she could do. He lifted her easily, putting her in the passenger seat of a small side-by-side Arctic Cat, like a cross between a small truck and an ATV. She would’ve thought it was cool if she wasn’t so exhausted.

  Get to safety, she told herself, and held on as best she could as they rolled across the desert. She didn’t even care where he w
as taking her, as long as she was as far away from Noah as she could get.

  What about the treasure?

  Exhaustion flooded her. She’d think about the treasure later. Right now was about survival, she thought, and hugged herself in the seat.

  Frustrated, sweaty, Noah glanced at his watch. An hour and a half had passed since Noah had started the search… about an hour since he’d talked to Killian. He was still furious at the man’s threats, and irritated with himself that, after an hour, he still seemed no closer to the treasure and the solution to his problems than he was when they’d parked the damned RV.

  You should go back, check on Cressida. He had said they’d check in over an hour ago, but he figured if she’d found something, she’d probably either call him or come looking for him. Their grids were not that big – which made it all the more frustrating that he hadn’t found anything, and that it had taken him so long.

  I’ve only got one day!

  He considered finishing up the grid, then going back to Cressida, but she was helping him by splitting up. He was worried that this search might be a little too much for her; she’d looked paler than usual, and despite her determined smile, he knew that going out into the wide-open sky of the desert was probably difficult for someone whose idea of comfort was the close confines of a closet.

  “Cressida? You back?” he called, when he got back to where the RV was parked, by Minerva’s Hot Spring. There was no answer. He stepped inside the vehicle, in case she was recharging in the sleeping compartment, but it was empty. She was nowhere to be seen.

  He frowned, feeling unease churn in the pit of his stomach. Maybe she’d lost track of time on the search, just like he had, he thought. He pulled his phone out, dialing her number quickly.

  It went directly to voicemail.

  Panic started to creep in. Stay calm. Maybe she doesn’t have cell reception out where she is.

  That wasn’t as comforting a thought as it could be, considering she could be in trouble – and she’d have no way to call him, or tell him where she was.

  He had to find her.

  She had to be in the grid that he’d laid out. He pulled out his copy of the map and started walking through it. “Cressida? Cressida!”

  After half an hour had passed with no Cressida, he was beyond anxious and into afraid. She should’ve been there, within shouting distance. He didn’t see any trace of her, but then, it wasn’t like he was an expert tracker or anything. A lot of the desert seemed hard-packed, and if she’d been going through the scrub or on the rocks, he wouldn’t see her footprints.

  Maybe she got lost? Maybe she didn’t know how to use the map, and headed straight out into the desert?

  He blanched. She could be anywhere.

  He couldn’t just wander around aimlessly. He needed help.

  But if you don’t find the treasure, your Mom…

  “I can’t let Cressida fucking die,” he yelled at himself, his chest squeezing. He wasn’t going to hunt for some box of gold and jewels while Cressida was all alone in the desert!

  He needed help. Real, reliable, authoritative help.

  He moved around until he got clear cell reception, then called the park ranger service. He didn’t know if there were any nearby, but he knew that they were his best bet out here in the wilderness.

  “Park Ranger Service.”

  “Hello, my name is Noah Sukarno,” he said, his words coming out in a tumble, “and I have an emergency.”

  There was a pause. “Okay, stay calm. What’s your emergency?”

  “I was camping and, well, looking for something out in the desert with my girlfriend, and we got split up. I can’t find her anywhere.”

  “How long has she been missing?”

  “A few hours,” Noah said. “Listen, I know that isn’t that long a time, but she’s got a medical condition. Anxiety, panic attacks. I’m afraid that she’s had one and she’s stuck somewhere, and I can’t find her!”

  “Please try to stay calm,” the woman on the phone counseled. “Where are you?”

  “Owl Canyon. Not far from Rainbow Basin,” he said, relaying her his GPS coordinates. “I’m by this old shut down hot spring. Minerva’s.”

  “Okay, I know where you are,” she said. “Let me see if there’s a ranger nearby that I can send. Just hang tight, all right?”

  Like I have any choice! His grip on his phone tightened.

  After a few minutes on hold, the woman came back on. “Could you describe your girlfriend, please?”

  “She’s about five foot six, thin, with long red hair and gray green eyes,” Noah said quickly.

  “Hold on, please. We might have something.”

  The wait felt like forever. She finally clicked back over.

  “One of our rangers picked up a woman not too far from where you are,” she said. “She was curled up on one of our ATV trails. Seemed to be in some kind of shock.”

  Oh my God. Noah felt a conflicting rush of relief that she’d been found and horror that she was in that condition. “What happened? Where is she?”

  “They don’t know what happened, although if you say she’s got a history of anxiety attacks, then that’s probably what happened,” the woman said. “They’re taking her over to the hospital to get checked over now.”

  “Which hospital? Can you tell me?”

  “St. Catarina of the Sacred Blood,” she said, and gave directions. He thanked her. Then he jumped into the RV.

  You’ve only got one day. Your Mom is going to get deported.

  He closed his eyes.

  He’d have to figure out another way to save his Mom. Because Cressida had sacrificed too much, trying to help him, and he wasn’t going to screw her over or abandon her now, no matter what Killian threatened.

  Cressida was curled up into herself, her hands at an awkward angle, her breathing in great gasping gulps.

  “Don’t worry, we’re almost there,” the park ranger said. His Cat was going really fast, and she seemed to feel every bump. Their speed only intensified her anxiety. He was taking her to a hospital, she realized. She recognized the sign, the cross. He helped her, practically carrying her to the E.R.

  “What’ve we got here?” a nurse said, hurrying to her side and helping him get her to a gurney.

  “I don’t know,” the ranger replied. “Doesn’t seem like dehydration, and I don’t think it’s a heart attack or anything like that. It seems like she’s in shock, but she doesn’t have anything broken or sprained – and she’s having trouble talking.”

  “It’s okay, sweetie. It’s going to be okay,” the nurse assured her. To Cressida, it sounded like the woman’s voice was coming from the end of a long hallway. “Did anything happen to you? Did something hurt you? Did you fall?”

  Cressida made whimpering noises that embarrassed her. She couldn’t seem to talk. She felt fat teardrops crawl down her dusty cheeks.

  The nurse stripped her down, searching for signs of injury. Cressida hoped like hell the ranger had already gone, because at this point she couldn’t even protest.

  I’ll handle Cressida.

  She closed her eyes, sobbing lightly. How could she have misjudged him so completely?

  “You don’t look like you’ve been hurt. We’re going to run some tests, see if you have internal injuries.”

  Cressida recoiled. She was already at the E.R. God knew how much this was going to cost, especially with the treasure still moldering in the bottom of that pond. Besides, she hated hospitals and didn’t want them to run a bunch of tests when she knew she was perfectly fine.

  Push through, Cress. Get it together.

  She forced herself to box breathe. “No… not hurt,” she muttered.

  The nurse paused in her bustling. “What was that?”

  “I’m… not… hurt.” Cressida gulped. She hated that feeling, where no matter what she did, there wasn’t enough air in her system. “Agoraphobic.”

  “Agoraphobic?” The nurse looked at her in surprise.
“What in the world are you doing out in the Mojave?”

  God, and isn’t that a long story? Cressida shook her head.

  “I’m still going to have our doctor look you over,” the nurse said. “Just to make sure you didn’t hurt anything out there. It’s easy to get dehydrated, or heat stroke, even in January. Are you on meds?”

  “Not regular,” Cressida panted. “Tra… Trazadone. Emergencies.”

  Cressida shuddered. She hated being in hospitals, but it was marginally better than being in that huge, open expanse. Beautiful or not.

  Can he find me here?

  She was relatively safe, even if he did find her there. If Noah found her out in the open it would be worse.

  She needed to get home, she thought suddenly. But the treasure…

  “Is there anyone we can contact?” the nurse said, interrupting her thoughts.

  Cressida nodded. “Phone,” she said, hating that she was reduced to short sentence fragments. She sounded and felt like an idiot. She kept on box breathing – four count in, four count hold, four count out – and her hands started to relax. “In my jeans pocket.”

  The nurse nodded, then searched Cressida’s clothes. “Emergency contact?”

  Cressida nodded, glad that the woman had suggested it. “Pin is… 5287.”

  The nurse opened her screen, typing in the pin then looking through the contacts. Cressida had Rachel down as her “in case of emergency” contact. She hoped that Rachel wasn’t in the middle of something important, like some meeting at work. Or a test. At least it wasn’t mid-terms or finals. God, was it?

  She felt like such a burden. Such a fucking failure.

  “Hello, who am I speaking with?” the nurse asked, and Cressida could barely hear Rachel’s response. “I’m a nurse at St. Catarina’s, in Barstow. You’re listed as the emergency contact for the owner of this phone. I don’t have her name…”

  The nurse paused, then looked over at her. “Is your name Cressida?”

  Cressida nodded.

  “Well, Cressida was found out in the desert. We’re going to have the doctor look her over, and we’ll see about settling her down. We might need an evaluation…”