“Shut the fuck up,” Ford says as he lifts Nomar’s shirt. “Joey, it’s bad.”
There is so much blood. More than one man should be able to lose, I think. If he dies after everything he did for us… Silent tears stream down my cheeks.
“Lisette? Can you get Mateen some water?” Dr. Joey asks, then kneels next to Ford. “Nomar? Tell us what happened, okay? You need to keep talking.”
“I…had to,” he whispers. “Saw them…as I was…trying to escape. Faruk was…wailing on her.”
Dr. Joey presses on his side, right above his wound. The other man—Trevor—brings a first aid kit in from the next room, and she pulls out…tweezers?Merde.She cannot…?
“This is going to hurt. A lot,” she says as she unbuckles his belt, folds it in half, and offers it to him. “Bite down.”
She is so efficient. So fearless. I could never be that brave. Retrieving a glass of water for Mateen, I crouch by his side and try to get him to take a few sips.
The harsh scent of vodka mixes with blood in the small living room. Nomar screams, but the belt muffles the worst of it.
“Good. Just one more thing, and then you can rest.” Joey turns to Ford. “Hold his shoulders. He needs to be very, very still.”
I cannot watch Joey dig the bullet out of his body. So I focus on my son. He is crying now, and I gather him in my arms. “Shhh. It is all right,mon bébé. Nomar will be fine. So will you.”
“Got it,” Joey says, holding up the tiny piece of metal. “We have to get both of them to a hospital. Mateen needs insulin and chelation. Nomar…I’m not a surgeon. Even if I were, this isn’t the place. But now that the bullet’s out, as long as we can keep his fever down and stop the infection from getting worse, he should make it.”
Relief sends a shudder through me, and I swipe at my wet cheeks. “Nomar saved our lives. He picked up Mateen and told me to come with him if we wanted to live.”
“Seriously? He pulled a Terminator on you?” Ford asks.
“A what?”
“Sorry. It’s…a movie thing. I’m Ford, by the way. Joey’s…um…”
“Fiancé,” she says, getting to her feet and wiping her bloody hands on the towel Trevor hands her. “Pack up, Marine. We need to get Nomar and Mateen to a hospital. As quickly as possible. Or we could lose both of them.”
I clutch my son close to my chest. Did I make a mistake when I begged Nomar to free us from our desert prison? Would Mateen have been better off with his father?
As Ford, Joey, and Trevor spring into motion, grabbing bags, bottles of water, and weapons, I stare out the window at the bright blue sky.
A pair of birds soar toward the horizon, moving almost as one.
No. Whatever happens now, Mateen and I will be free.
* * *
I jerk awake from a nightmare.One in which Faruk could not see past his own prejudices and self-righteousness toevertake Mateen to a hospital. Or listen to the advice of the doctors he threatened or paid off.
But this nightmare was very real. One I lived every day.
My entire body aches, I am exhausted and hungry, but my son is sleeping peacefully. Nomar, though… He needed a transfusion, and his heart stopped. But he is stable. For now.
This tiny medical clinic in the middle of nowhere is not well staffed, but we are in a private room, with Ford and Trevor taking turns on watch. At dusk, we will head for a boat that will take us to Uzbekistan.
Ford and Trevor believe all will be well once we reach the hospital in Qarshi. That Mateen will get the help he needs. But without a bone marrow transplant, this disease will kill him.
“Lisette?” Trevor pockets his phone and pulls up a chair next to mine. He keeps his voice low so he does not wake Mateen. Or Joey. “My boss got in touch with your family. Your sister, Noele, will meet us in Qarshi.”
“Noele?Mon Dieu.I never…” A sob wells up in my throat. My little Noele. I have not seen her since she was fifteen. All freckles and pigtails and braces. She will be an adult now. Grown with a career. Or a husband. Or both.
Trevor passes me a tissue, and I dab at my eyes. I can only imagine what Noele looks like now. Tall? Like our mother? A full head of raven black hair? But her eyes…we have the same eyes.
“Thank you,” I whisper and throw my arms around him. Touching another man should feel wrong, and Trevor does not move. I am not even sure he breathes for a full minute until he pats my back twice and pulls away.
