Page 91 of Duty Preserved

Zayn drove. He knew the route best. The headlights cut a narrow tunnel through the bush, and the engine was the only sound in the cab. Andrew sat beside me in the back seat with his window down, his arm on the frame, looking out at nothing.

We were outgunned. We were outmatched. Every man in those two trucks knew it, and nobody was pretending otherwise. If the crew had held their ground instead of running, if even one of those rounds had found a body instead of brush, people I had trained would have died out there tonight.

I had told them they were ready enough for a night move. I had made that call. And the only reason everyone was coming home was because the men on the other end had decided to flee.

The truck pulled into camp.

Zayn killed the engine. The second truck pulled in behind us, and the rangers climbed out in silence.

“Get some sleep,” I said. “All of you. We’ll debrief in the morning.”

They moved toward the bunkhouse in ones and twos with their heads down. The compound went still.

Andrew stood beside the truck for a moment. He looked at me, and whatever he saw on my face made him decide this wasn’t the time.

“Tomorrow,” he said.

“Tomorrow.”

He headed for his cabin.

I walked to Sarah’s cabin.

The light was on. A thin line of it shone under the door. She was awake. She was never going to sleep through the sound of trucks pulling in late carrying the man she shared a bed with.

I opened the door. She was sitting on the edge of the bed, still dressed. Her eyes went straight to my chest and then my face. Looking for damage.

“Everyone’s fine,” I said. “Nobody’s hurt.”

She stood. She crossed the room and put her arms around me, and I dropped my face against her neck.

I didn’t tell her what had happened. Maybe in the morning, when I could find the right words. For now, I just savored the embrace.

Chapter 25

Sarah

The eland’s sutures were holding.

I checked the margins one more time. Ran my thumb along the edge of the wound where the granulation tissue had filled in. He shifted his weight when I touched him but didn’t pull away. Another two days and I could release him. I made the note on his chart and hung it back on the pen rail.

I’d been at the facility since dawn, working through the to-do list the same as any other day. The animals didn’t care what had happened last night, and neither did the work.

Donovan had told me a little about their night, but I could tell chunks were missing. I understood that they’d caught the poachers about to take out a rhino but managed to scare them off. And at that site, they’d found a phone in the grass.

He’d come to my cabin after midnight, still in the clothes he’d worn on the patrol. He sat on the edge of my bed and gave me what he could. It didn’t take long. I didn’t push for the rest. Then he showered and came back to bed. Not long after watching him fall asleep, I had gotten up to come to work.

Needless to say, I was tired.

A vehicle pulled up outside the facility. I wiped my hands on a cloth and stepped to the door.

Faith Njeri climbed out of a KWS Land Cruiser, a leather satchel over one shoulder and a folder in her hand. She wore her khaki KWS uniform, pressed despite the heat.

“Sarah.” She squeezed my hand. “How are you holding up?”

“I’m all right.”

She held my hand a beat longer than a handshake required. Faith had been the one constant through all of this. She’d run the fellowship program that had brought Alyson and Daniel and me to Kenya. She’d spoken to the local village family after the subsistence hunting and handled it with compassion I still admired. And she continually expressed genuine concern for Cole and Alyson.