Her mouth dropped open, then closed abruptly. “No. I won’t do it. You can’t make me.”
The bearded man lifted the hem of his shirt a few inches, exposing the butt of a handgun. Although he didn’t draw the weapon, his intention was clear. She gaped at him, beyond fear. The man with the scar shook his head in disapproval. They discussed her fate for a moment, their voices clipped.
“We will lock you in with El Jefe for a few days,” the boy said finally. “If he die, we bury you also. If he live, you go home.”
His words chilled her to the bone. It was the same deal she’d been forced into earlier, with a more sinister edge. Would they really kill her in cold blood? The two older men hadn’t even fired at Armando during his escape. Maybe they weren’t ruthless psychopaths like him. Maybe they’d actually let her go home if she cooperated.
Either way, she believed the first part. They would hold her captive in this room with this ravaged creature. She could stand by and do nothing while he suffered a long, painful death. She could listen to his labored breathing and smell his ruined flesh.
Or she could try to save him, and herself.
She rose to her feet again, testing her mettle. When she didn’t sway or pass out, she stepped forward. The man’s face wasn’t burned beyond recognition, upon closer inspection. His skin wasn’t charred, just covered in soot. One of his eyes was swollen shut. He was unconscious, wrapped in rags. She’d heard that burn victims were prone to hypothermia after their bodies cooled. Smoke inhalation could cause problems as well.
With caution, she edged aside the fabric around his head. His scalp was singed, his hair gone. One of his ears was hanging loose, edges crisp. Her stomach roiled as she examined the rest of him. His hands, neck, and forearms were riddled with blisters that gave him a lagoon-monster appearance. His tattered shirt clung to a lean torso. Perhaps he’d been in an explosion, rather than a house fire. She looked under the blanket. He was wearing jeans. Everything below the waist appeared to have been protected by heavy denim.
“His back is worse,” the bearded man said.
Caitlyn didn’t want to turn him over until she’d started oxygen and an IV. She could see that his shoulders were blackened with deep tissue burns. If his entire back was like this, he would need surgery. Skin grafts and other complicated procedures she couldn’t improvise.
She washed her hands at the sink, contemplative. His back might be a mess, but his front wasn’t as bad as she’d thought. There was a chance he’d live. She’d start with antibiotics, painkillers, and fluids. Then she’d have to clean and debride his wounds, which was a grueling process.
He could die from the treatment. He’d definitely die without it.
Eyes narrow, she faced her captors. “How old is he?”
“Thirty-six.”
“Was he in good health before this?”
The men shrugged, evasive. Her patient was tall and strong, with an athletic build, but that didn’t mean he was in top condition.
The boy said, “He was a heroin addict. Long time ago.”
A heroin addict. Great. It would be a miracle if he recovered. She didn’t think a man like him was worth saving, either. He was some kind of top-tier criminal, a friend or enemy of Armando’s. The world would be a better place without both of them. But what could she do besides cooperate?
“Bring me some hot water,” she said to the boy. “Clean hot water, in bowls or buckets. I also need bandages and antibiotic ointment.”
The boy went to fetch the items while the bearded man stood guard.
She attached an oxygen mask to the patient’s dirty face and she searched for a vein that would accommodate an IV. His hands and arms were toast, so she pushed up the leg of his jeans and removed a ruined shoe. It was fused to his sock, which had burned through the soles of his feet. Shaking her head, she peeled the fabric away from his skin and she swabbed his ankle. It was one of the least affected areas of his body. His blood pressure sucked, but she finally got in. She secured the IV and gave him several injections.
Then she rolled up her sleeves and began to work.
