He reached a door and turned her around to face it. “Open the door and move your ass, or I’ll pump you full of drugs.”
“I won’t die from that.”
“You’ll die if I snap your skinny neck!”
She gritted her teeth and followed his instructions. The door led to an open garage. She walked forward and started down the same asphalt driveway where he’d face-planted the other night. The gate at the end of the driveway was locked, impenetrable. “Now what, genius?”
He ducked behind a bush with her. His fist was still buried in her hair, the needle stuck in her neck. It hurt, even with the adrenaline coursing through her body. She couldn’t hold back a whimper of pain.
A black SUV appeared in front of the gate with at least two men inside. Armando muttered something in Spanish. As soon as the automated gate rolled open and the vehicle pulled forward, he removed the needle from her neck. Then he just…let go of her. She dropped to the grass, knees buckling, while he darted through the gate and took off.
He moved pretty fast for a guy with a gut wound.
“He left me,” she mumbled in disbelief.
That bastard. He’d never intended to take her. She hadn’t been eager to play Hostage 2.0 with him, but getting dumped in this hellhole wasn’t any better. Especially since she couldn’t run. She couldn’t think clearly. She clamped a hand over her neck, which was seeping blood. Her head felt woozy. Maybe some morphine had slipped into her system.
The men got out of the car to observe Armando’s hasty retreat. She’d seen them both before, when she was first captured. One had a scar on his face. The other was stocky, with a thick beard. Neither seemed interested in chasing after Armando. Maybe they didn’t think he was worth the trouble. The gate slid closed, and her chances of surviving this ordeal disintegrated. She’d been used and discarded. The bad guy got away instead of her.
What an unfair outcome.
The boy came through the garage and got scolded in Spanish. Both men argued in raised voices, gesturing at her, at the street, at the car. Then the boy strode toward her and lifted her to her feet. She managed to stay upright, taking deep breaths. Her legs were shaky, but the weakness might be due to stress and lack of food, rather than drugs.
While she attempted to regain her bearings, the bearded man opened the trunk. An awful stench assaulted her nostrils. She clapped a hand over her mouth and nose, gagging. She’d used the cautery equipment often enough in surgery to recognize the smell of burnt flesh. This odor was stronger and smokier. It was a gut-churning blend of fire, chemicals, and death.
Near death, rather. The thing inside the trunk wasn’t dead yet. It was still moving. She smothered a sound of distress as a mummy-creature was hefted from the depths. It took both men to lift the blanket-wrapped bundle, which emitted a low moan.
“Your patient,” the boy said.
“You can’t be serious.”
He guided her back inside, his expression grim.
“I’m a veterinarian, not Dr. Frankenstein!”
The boy didn’t seem to understand the reference. He returned her to the cramped cell she’d come to loathe while the two men placed the new victim on the bed. She studied the thing in horror. There was a charred face and blistered hands. Two arms, two legs, shoes melted onto large feet. It was a man, she assumed. The individual parts were more or less intact, but he couldn’t survive with third-degree burns all over his body.
“What do you expect me to do?” she asked.
The bearded man said, “Same as before. He live, you live.”
She swallowed hard, trying not to panic. “This is far beyond my capabilities.”
Her captors just stared at her.
She made two fists in her hair. “What’s wrong with you people? He’s going to die. You have to take him to a hospital.”
“No hospital.”
Her legs threatened to collapse again, so she sat down. She focused on breathing. She understood that these men were high-profile criminals. Maybe they were facing execution or assassination or something. “Can’t you kidnap a real doctor?”
The scarred man spoke to the boy in rapid-fire Spanish.
“He says get to work,” the boy translated.
She sputtered with laughter and disbelief. “With what supplies?”
“We bring more, if you need.”
