Page 64 of Fear and Desire

“I don’t understand.”

“I knew he wanted to brand you with his initials. But I wasn’t going to let him do that. So I bought a different brand, just in case I couldn’t stop it, figuring at least it wouldn’t be his initials. I thought he’d never know ‘cause the bandage would cover it. You were supposed to be free long before anyone actually saw it. I never imagined he’d get away with you, and I’m so sorry.” His voice broke for a moment. “It’s just a stupid small design, but I knew I had to find you before DeLeo took the dressing off. Josh told me the guy who branded you said it would be on for seven days, so I knew I had to get to you before then. I’m sorry I put your life at risk for that.” He looked out the back of the truck into the distance.

Something larger was going on, but she couldn’t form the right words in her head to pursue it yet, so she changed the subject.

“How are Josh and Claire?”

Dan stared at the receding road. “Josh didn’t make it, Laura. He held on for a day, but there was too much damage from the bullet. Too much blood loss.”

She gasped. “I’m so sorry, Dan. Does he have any family?”

“Yeah. His mom arrived the next day, and he’s got three brothers and four sisters back in Puerto Rico. They’re going to send his body back there for the funeral.” He rubbed his forehead with the heels of his hands. “Probably already have.” His voice was flat and controlled.

She reached for one of his hands and squeezed tight. He didn’t squeeze back.

“How’s Claire?”

“Pretty good. The bullet went through her leg but didn’t hit anything vital. They released her from the Emergency Department within a few hours, and she walked on her crutches right back up to the floor where the rest of the women were. She spent a little while there and then bullied her way into the ICU to be with Josh. She was with him until just before he…” His voice choked and cut off.

Minutes went by without words. Laura abandoned several attempts to talk, because there was nothing she could say that could adequately express their loss and sorrow.

“Did you know Claire was a psychologist before?”

“Yeah,” Dan replied. “I’m glad she wanted to stay with the other women. No one will understand what they went through like she will.” There was more than a tinge of regret in his voice.

“Dan, you didn’t have a choice. You’ve got to remember that. You made sure we all came out of it alive. If you hadn’t done what you did—all the parts, even the stuff that was bad at the time—we wouldn’t be headed home.”

He didn’t respond. A moment later, he pulled his hand from hers and moved away. The truck bumped over the broken road as the IV dripped into her arm, and Anders made her drink more of the wonderful, awful orange stuff.

37

Laura:

Thesunoverheadwasso hot that sweat dripped down the foreheads of the two men in the back of the truck. But to Laura, who had been shivering for days, it was glorious to lie in the warm bright light without any worries. She dozed. One IV bag was done and Anders put another one up.

Eventually, they came to a small town, filled with crowds. Festive streamers attached to light poles danced in the wind, and music filled the air. As they passed through the streets at a slow crawl, curious pedestrians peered into the back of the truck. Laura pretended to sleep.

A harsh voice called out and the three trucks stopped.

“Shit,” Dan muttered.

A man in green camouflage, armed with a long rifle, walked along their truck. “Mogu li ya uvidet’ vashi dokumenty, pozhaluysta?”

Anders and Dan exchanged glances before Anders stood up. He pulled a passport from his pocket and handed it to the soldier. “Ya Michail Bogdorov. Eto moya zhena. Ona bol’na, i my prinimayem yeye v bol’nitsu v Pskov.”

The soldier barked out another command and Dan fished the same small booklet out of his pocket. Anders handed over a third one and pointed to Laura.

He continued to speak with the soldier, gesturing towards Laura and the IV several times. The uniformed man oozed skepticism. As he walked around the truck in silence, he made eye contact with Laura, who steeled herself to look back briefly before looking away, scared that he might want to talk to her. He reached over the side of the truck and tugged on the tube running into her arm. She obediently lifted her hand, and he peered at it as though to make sure the catheter was really in her hand and not just taped to the top.

She didn’t have to fake being ill; the glimpse she’d caught of herself in a mirror as Dan walked her back into the house had shocked her—sunken cheeks, dull eyes, lifeless expression—but she didn’t want the soldier to speak to her, so as he scrutinized her she closed her eyes again. Gravel crunched as he walked around the truck and spoke with Anders, and then his voice faded as he walked back to the other trucks.

She was too tired to be as scared as she should have been. She did not know if Americans were liked here, but she doubted it. She still wasn’t sure where she was, but men like DeLeo didn’t hide out in places that were open and friendly to foreigners. If they were arrested, they might just disappear.

Anders continued to speak with the soldier. The crowd gave an ‘oh!’ of sympathy at one comment, along with a few chuckles. Several tense minutes later, there was some outright laughter, and the trucks started up again. There were no more stops before they were out of the town and back on the dusty country road.

Dan had seated himself on the other side of the truck bed, facing the road falling away behind them. She tried to catch his eye, but he ignored her. Though he was just a few feet away, he might as well have been in another country. She wanted to talk, to savor the touch of his hand, to offer him comfort, but he wanted none of that.

Anders slid down between them. He handed her the container of orange stuff and helped her sit up to drink.

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