Nightshade (Discarded Heroes) (42 page)

Concealed under the slats of a raised hut, Sydney burrowed in as far as she could and pressed her back against a large support. Warmth dripped down into her right eye. The concussion had thrown her back and smacked her head against one of the market stands. It’d been enough to blind her for a second—but that didn’t stop her from scrambling to safety at the sound of shooting.

Trembling wracked her body as she stared out the two-foot space toward the road. Heat plumes rippled through air from the burning Jeep. Holden. Lane. Where were they? Had they been killed? Pain radiated through her neck and shoulder, but also around the small of her back and into her hips. Come to think of it, she hadn’t felt the baby moving since the explosion. Had the concussion …? Oh no. She couldn’t say it. Couldn’t think it.

“My baby,” she mouthed, hot tears streaking down her cheeks. “Please, God!” Still, she didn’t allow a sound to escape her moving lips. Had she, in her own foolishness, killed her son? Rubbing her belly, she willed the little guy to let her know he was still alive.
God, forgive me. Forgive me
.

Nothing. Silence. Emptiness.
I’ve killed him. Oh sweet Jesus, I killed him
. Grief strangled her. She didn’t care if she died. She deserved to die. What kind of mother traipses around the world, willingly walking into danger zones for a story?

Fear wrapped its long tendrils around her chest, squeezing tightly. Thick smoke billowed in under the boards, reaching for her with hungry, greedy fingers. She wouldn’t cough. Couldn’t cough and give herself away. Breathing resisted her every attempt. Thick ash found her in the hiding place and coated her dark clothes.

Crackling and popping of the fire worried her, reminded her of the blaze she’d set to her own life. What she wouldn’t give to go back in time, to show Max more love, to be more patient, to remain on American soil for her story.

Crunch
.

Sydney’s heart seized.

Crunch, crunch … crunch
.

A boot slowly moved into view, its movement methodical. Heel touched the wood and wreckage-strewn sidewalk first, rolled through the instep to the toe. Left foot next. He was searching for her.

Crunch
.

The grittiness sifted into her mouth and nostrils. Down her throat. Her body convulsed to cough—but she stopped it.

A knee dropped into view.

Thump! Thud!

The man splayed out, his face turned toward her, blood streaming down his temple. He’d been shot! But who had killed him? Hurried steps rushed closer.

“Americans, let’s go!”

It’s a trick
. Didn’t matter anyway. She didn’t deserve to live. If her baby was dead, so was she. Never would she be able to face Max knowing what she’d done.

“You have five seconds, and we’re out of here.” Another voice, gruff and terse, shattered the obnoxious quiet of the now-empty market. Two sets of black boots stormed into view. One crossed the road toward the Jeep. Another paused in front of the hut where the dead man stared back at her. A dark hand slipped around the man’s neck, apparently checking the pulse.

“They’re all dead.” The gruff voice called. “Nobody’s left.”

“Then who were they shooting at?” the one closer asked.

Movement across the street caught her eye. Lane! He crawled out of a house on his hands and knees, gagging and coughing. “Help! Help! Don’t leave me.”

The two men sprinted and helped him to his feet. “Is there anyone else?”

“I—I don’t know,” Lane said, his voice almost inaudible.

Don’t tell them.
Just leave and let me be
.

“How many in your group?” Gruff asked.

“F-four. There were four of us. Me, two other guys, and a woman. A pregnant woman.”

“A preg—” A growl emanated from one of the men. “You sure are some special kind of stupid to bring a pregnant woman into an environment like this.”

“Let’s find her.”

Silently, she willed them to leave. Leave here. Leave her. She didn’t want to go back home to normal things. She didn’t deserve anything. In her attempt to find purpose, she’d found death. Now she had nobody. Her mom was dead. Her husband she’d legally signed out of her life. Bryce—that was another story.

No, she was alone. All alone. In a strange country. Her brother didn’t even know she was here. They’d hopped that flight without notifying anyone.

“Here! She’s under here!” Lane’s shouts echoed through the early morning. “Sydney, are you okay?”

She tried to curl in tighter, but her bulging belly wouldn’t cooperate.

A hand clasped her foot and pulled.

She kicked out with her other, screaming. “Leave me alone!”

Still, they hauled her out as she scraped and clawed at the dirt. If she could just stay hidden, maybe they wouldn’t know what she’d done to her own baby.

The large man towering over her clamped a hand over her mouth. “Quiet.” He seemed to scowl at her, even under all the lines of green and black smeared over his face. “You injured?”

Lane cradled her face. “I was so worried about you. I couldn’t find you … and I thought ….” He sobbed. “I thought you were dead.”

The two soldiers shifted awkwardly.

Irritation clawed at her. She batted Lane away. “Leave me alone. Just go away.” The larger man drew her to her feet. Swallowing the bitter taste that glanced off her tongue, she wiped the blood dribbling into her eye.

The soldier tilted her head to the side. “It’s not gaping. We’ll fix it when we rendezvous.”

Everything in her wilted. “I don’t want to go back.”

“Are you crazy?” Lane exclaimed.

She’d come here, hadn’t she? She might as well die here. And she’d bolt the minute the soldier turned—

A viselike grip wrapped around her arm. He held a finger to his ear, and only then did Syd notice the ear mic and the rolled up sleeve—and tattoo.

She’d found them! The team she’d been hunting.

And look what good it did.

The ache around her back and stomach hadn’t lessened.

“Delta One,” the soldier said, tightening his grip as he led her into the thick of the jungle. “This is Ghost One. En route, plus two friendlies.”

Friendlies
. Why did that sound wildly contrary? She glanced at the man dragging her through the high grass and bushes. He stood taller than her by nearly a head and a half, with broad shoulders. Of course, the armor that wrapped his body seemed to enhance his chest several inches. The camo rag over his head shielded his hair and the shape of his head, but something seemed oddly familiar.

Insane.

After several long minutes, he finally stopped, tugging her aside. The other guy and Lane huddled up. “We have a hard hike ahead of us. Only a mile, but it’s rugged, and we have to make it fast.” He held Syd’s arm again and peered down at her. “Can you handle it?”

“Does it matter?”

“Not to us,” Gruff barked.

Ghost One held up his hand. “Is there something we should know?”

Those hazel eyes seemed to see right through her the way Max always did. And somehow, in some strange way, it twisted right into her heart. A tremor worked through her lower lip. The avalanche of emotions overtook her. She buried her face in her hands.

Warm hands pulled her in an embrace. Lane was so sweet, so understanding. She let him hold her as the tears wracked her. “I can’t do this. I was so stupid to come out here, looking …” She choked off her confession. The soldiers would leave them here if she admitted searching the world over for them.

“Everything’s going wrong. The man last night. The driver. The explosion. Now Holden’s dead. My baby’s dead. I don’t want to live. I want to die. Right here.”

The arms tightened around her. Warm breath tickled her ear. “Sydney, God didn’t bring you this far to abandon you.”

The words sounded familiar yet different. She pulled back. Hard. Surprise pinged through her. It wasn’t Lane comforting her. The soldier caught her shoulder, his expression solid and sincere.

“You don’t know that. I killed my baby! I can’t feel him moving. God won’t forgive me for that. I should’ve never come here.”

“You got that right,” Gruff snapped. “Move it or lose it.”

Again, the soldier held up his hand as he turned to her. “We have a medic. He can check you and confirm that your baby is just fine.”

She whimpered at the way her heart leaped, snatching that ultrathin thread of hope he dangled in front of her.

With a nod, Ghost One took her arm and guided her up the mountain. A medic would have a stethoscope, right? The fifteen minutes proved grueling, but Sydney rearranged her thoughts and determined that each step brought her closer to hearing her baby’s heartbeat. Would God really grant her mercy?

His mercies are new every morning
.

A small smile pricked into her depression. She glanced at the sky, feeling the warmth of the golden hues spread into her chest. With a shuddering sigh, she refocused on treading closely behind the soldier who’d shown her more kindness and consideration than she deserved. What she
did
deserve was the treatment Gruff had delivered.

What felt like an hour later, the men crouched. Sydney struggled, unable to crouch comfortably. Ghost One let out a long whistle, followed by a warbling sound. Seconds trickled through the noisy jungle. Soon a matching whistle bounced back at them.

They stood and crossed a small path of swampland. As they did, Sydney saw shadows skittering over the water. Her heart plummeted at the sign of a half-dozen people gathered in a small grouping. A man her height, astonishingly short against the towering giant beside her, ambled toward them, a machine gun cradled in his arms. The two men clapped hands and patted backs.

Ghost One glanced around. “Where’s Delta One?”

“Headed downstream. Seems our chopper isn’t coming. He’s trying to plot our route.”

No chopper? Sydney’s heart lurched. How would they get out now?

“Where’s the Fix?” Ghost One twisted and held a hand out toward her.

The shorter man nodded to the side. “The woman died. He’s with the husband.”

A knot formed in her throat as she spied the skinny man holding a still form against him. Another soldier sat nearby, his head down.

“Stay with her,” Ghost One said to the man.

Coldness swarmed around her, leaving her chilled and frightened as the burly man left. A man had lost his wife in this jungle. Holden had died. Several others in the fruit market. Seemed that’s all this jungle was good for. Death. The skinny man sobbed as he lowered his dead wife to the ground. Tears sprang to Sydney’s eyes as he bent and kissed her face.

“Ma’am?”

She jerked from the heartrending scene and turned toward Ghost One.

“This is our medic, Fix. He’ll take good care of you.”

The man, about a head taller than her, nodded. “How are you feeling?”

Wiping her tears, she smiled weakly. “Exhausted.”

“I’ve got a tarp set up over here. Why don’t you let me check you out in the light?” Without waiting for a response, he stepped around some trees and bushes then shifted back and waved her closer.

Sydney swallowed her courage as the moment of truth came upon her. She dragged herself to his tent, and he instructed her to lie down. On her back in the cramped, hot space, she wondered why she’d complied so easily with a stranger. Maybe it was the presence of Ghost One lingering just outside.

“How far along are you?” Fix knelt and set a stethoscope around his neck.

“Almost six months.” Even through her shirt, she could feel his cold hands as they probed her abdomen.

“When did you last feel the baby move?”

So, Ghost One had told him what she’d done. “Just before the explosion.”

Without a word, he examined her, gently pushing on her belly on all sides. Her heart thundered that her son wasn’t responding to the intrusive pressure. He’d given her heck for bending over to put on her shoes. Tears streamed down her face.

He tucked the plastic tubes in his ears. “Lie still and stay quiet.” Carefully he peeled back her shirt.

In her periphery, he flinched visibly. Their eyes met.

“Where did you get this?” His words rushed out in a single breath.

Unnerved at his reaction, she struggled to know how to answer that. He didn’t need her entire history. “Long story, but I honestly don’t know. Just woke up with it.” Palms flat against the ground, Sydney stared up at the dark tarp as the medic resumed his task.

I beg Your mercy, God
. Even though she’d struggled to understand why God would allow her to get pregnant when her marriage fell apart, and though she’d wrestled with being a single mom, right now she knew without a doubt she wanted this baby. He was a part of her.