Page 58 of Healing Hazel

“They will not be harmed,” Ramiro said. “I swear it. You must go now.”

Dr. Laurent pressed a medicine bottle into Jim’s hand. “He is right. Zhe chance of your escape is better with only two.”

“Come.” Ramiro gave the command and left no room for argument. He started toward the edge of the clearing. “Come now.”

Jim took a last look at Dr. Laurent and the other nurses, feeling an enormous rush of guilt. But if he did not get Hazel to the hospital...

“Go,” Dr. Laurent urged.

Jim and Hazel followed Ramiro from the camp. Jim glanced over his shoulder, worried they would be seen, but the shadows were deep, and they were swallowed by the darkness almost immediately.

Hazel stepped along, keeping pace, but her movements were sluggish. She held tightly to his hand.

When they came to the tree line, Ramiro stopped. Jim could just make out his silhouette. “Follow the water.” He pointed and turned to go back.

“The others,” Jim said.

“They will be safe; I promise you.”

“Thank you,” Hazel said. Her breathing sounded labored.

Ramiro stopped, turning to look at her. A hint of moonlight gave a slight glow to his features. He inclined his head, his expression softening for an instant. And then he was gone.

Jim wrapped the blanket tighter around Hazel and led her through the trees, listening for the sound of water. He strained his ears, wondering if he’d hear a shout or a gunshot. His back itched as he imagined a bullet hitting him. Had their absence been noticed? Once it was, how much time did they have before the mountain was swarming with rebels searching for them?

He and Hazel found the stream and turned to follow it down the mountain. Occasionally the moonlight sparkled on the water, but they were mainly led by the sound. Hazel held on to his hand as they walked, but the farther they went, the more Jim was pulling her. Eventually, he supported her, his arm around her waist, taking careful steps in the darkness. She leaned heavily against him.

With every fit of coughing, he feared they would be overheard, but aside from their own noise and the trickling of the stream, the mountain was silent.

Another fit of coughing racked Hazel’s body. She sat on the ground. “I... need to... rest,” she gasped. “Just for... a moment.”

Jim sat beside her. He looked back up through the dark trees, trying to remember if he’d ever heard of bears or wolves in these mountains. He wished he had a gun.

Hazel was shivering despite her fever.

Jim pulled the blanket tighter around her and rubbed her arms and back through the woolen fabric.

She coughed again, and Jim considered their options. He could move much faster on his own, getting to the hospital, he guessed, in a few hours and then return for her. But would Hazel be safe here alone? There was the risk that she would be discovered. But more worrying was her shivering. The fever had left her clothing damp, and the mountain was cold. Prolonged exposure could lead to hypothermia.

Her head leaned against him, but he couldn’t let her sleep. “We must keep going.”

She didn’t complain, but he could hear her wheezing breath. She moved slowly, and Jim held her upright, pulling her along, making certain the path was sure.

They soon stopped again, sitting on a flat rock. Hazel slumped over, lying on her side and drawing her knees to her chest as she coughed. Jim could hear the pain in the sound. Her breathing was so shallow. He debated whether to give her more morphine, but decided it should wait. The medicine would make her too tired to continue. He stood and pulled at her arms, trying to get her to stand again.

“I can’t,” she whispered, her body limp. “I can’t go on.”

“You must,” Jim replied, pushing any sound of worry out of his voice and speaking with certainty. “There is no other choice.” He returned to sit next to her, pulling her against him and holding her in the circle of his arms.

She lay limply, her body hot. She gasped, taking shallow breaths. “Jim, I think I might die.”

Her words punched holes in his determination, allowing terror to leak through. “You should have more faith in my abilities as a doctor,” he said, thinking to distract her—and himself—with humor. But the joke fell flat.

“I really—” She gasped, pressing her palm to her breastbone. “My chest hurts so... badly... and I can’t... I feel too weak to continue.”

Jim turned her toward him, the bit of moon making her face barely visible. “You won’t die. I won’t let you. Do you understand, Hazel? You cannot think like that. You cannot give up. You mustn’t.” His voice shook, and he realized there were tears in his eyes. He cleared his throat, blinking them away. “We are close; I am sure of it. Once we reach the hospital, I’ll be able to care for you properly. You must push on, just a bit longer.”

The shadow of her face nodded, and Jim rose, drawing her up with him. He kept an arm around her waist, and she held his shoulder. They moved slowly, stopping when a fit of coughing overtook her, then continuing on.

---