Page 40 of Duty Devoted
“I’m good at keeping people alive.” I met her gaze directly. “Even stubborn doctors who insist on delivering babies during emergency evacuations.”
“My parents must have been thrilled to write that check.” Her tone carried equal parts affection and frustration. “They’re convinced I’m having some kind of extended teenage rebellion.”
“Are you?”
“Maybe a little.” She drew her knees up, wrapping her arms around them. “But mostly, I just believe medical care should go where it’s needed most, not where it pays best.”
“Admirable philosophy.”
“Impractical philosophy, according to everyone I know.” She studied me in the dim light. “What about your family? Do they worry about your career choices?”
“No family left to worry.” The words came out flat. “Parents died in a car accident when I was eighteen. No siblings, never married, no kids.”
“I’m sorry. That must have been devastating.”
“It was a long time ago. Makes this kind of work simpler—no one waiting at home, wondering if I’ll make it back.”
Lauren’s expression shifted to something I couldn’t quite read. “Isn’t that lonely?”
The question landed somewhere soft and undefended. “You adapt to what you have.”
“That’s not the same as not being lonely.”
Thunder rolled overhead, closer now. The wind was building, driving rain under our shelter despite the windbreak. The palm fronds rattled and shook. Tomorrow would bring the real storm, and with it, harder travel through increasingly difficult terrain.
“We should rest while we can,” I said, steering away from emotional territory I wasn’t equipped to navigate. “Tomorrow’s going to test us both.”
Lauren stretched out on her makeshift bed, using her pack as a pillow. Within minutes, her breathing had evened into sleep. I envied her ability to shut down so completely—my own mind kept circling, calculating distances and dangers and contingencies.
Outside our shelter, the jungle was transforming. Wind bent trees that had stood for decades. Rain fell in sheets, turning the ground into sucking mud. This was just the outer bands—tomorrow would be worse.
Twenty-five kilometers of hostile territory between us and theoretical safety. Silva’s men potentially hunting us. A hurricane bearing down with increasing fury.
I checked my weapon one more time, then settled in to watch the storm build. Tomorrow, we’d find out if we were as tough as we needed to be.
Chapter 13
Lauren
I woketo Logan shaking my shoulder, his voice low and urgent. “We need to get going soon. Found something we should use before we go.”
The predawn air hung thick with humidity, and I could smell smoke—he’d made a small fire, carefully shielded from view by rocks. As I sat up, working out the kinks from sleeping on rocky ground, I caught another scent that made no sense out here.
“Is that…?”
“Elena’s instant coffee.” Logan crouched near the fire, pouring hot water into our tin cup. “Figured we shouldn’t waste it.”
He handed me the cup filled with what could generously be called coffee. It was watery, bitter, and probably the worst cup I’d ever tasted. But Elena had given it to us from her mother’s special stash, risking trouble to help us escape.
“It’s perfect,” I said, meaning it.
“Best coffee I’ve ever had.” Logan took his turn with the cup while I rolled up our makeshift bedding. “Kid’s got more courage than most adults.”
We shared the rest in companionable silence, passing the tin cup back and forth. There was an intimacy to sharing from the same cup, and I found myself hyperaware of placing my lips where his had just been.
“Ready?” Logan asked, already scattering the fire’s ashes. “It’s going to be tough today.”
The jungle looked lush and green in the morning light. Logan studied the terrain with that constant assessment I was beginning to recognize as habit rather than immediate concern.
