“Miguel!” she exclaimed in a sharp tone. “What are you doing?”
“Walking five steps to the sink. I can’t stay in that bed any longer. I’ve already walked down to the nurses’ station and back today.”
“All right.” Julia stood near him in case he needed her.
Miguel brushed his teeth, then used a small bottle of hospital soap to scrub his face, hands, and arms. “Man, I feel better,” he declared as he used a hand towel to dry himself. “I want to walk some more.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah. It’ll be easier now without the IV pole.”
Outside his hospital room, Miguel wanted to head in the opposite direction from the nurses’ station. Around the corner he noticed a supply closet and a staff breakroom. Past those, they found the emergency exit in case of a fire. Down another corridor, Miguel counted the number of occupied and empty rooms. He wondered where the pharmaceuticals were kept. Asyringe filled with a sedative might come in handy. His gait slowed as he pondered various scenarios and options. In his and Julia’s vulnerability, it would be an ideal time to strike. Miguel’s instincts wouldn’t let the possibility rest.
“I know what you’re thinking.” Julia’s voice cut into his whirling thoughts.
He didn’t need to explain. They were connected; she understood him without words. “We need to be prepared. Axis and Axalia are wily. Because they’re teenagers, they might not appear as threats to the public.”
“I agree.”
Though it cost Miguel physically and required a pain pill afterward, he and Julia mapped out an escape route if they needed one.
“We might be overreacting, but I would rather err on the side of caution,” Miguel said as he settled back into bed.
“I trust my intuition,” Julia replied. She used a damp washcloth to wipe the sweat from his face.
“So do I.”
Before Miguel dozed off, Dr. Solomon visited him during his late afternoon rounds. Encouraged by Miguel’s progress, he replaced his clear liquid diet with a soft food one. Miguel cheered at the good news. Solid food meant more fuel for his body.
He’d hardly closed his eyes when Julia’s cell phone dinged with an incoming call. She placed it on SPEAKER, and Tex’s urgent voice came on the line.
“I have news. A fishing boat and its captain went missing from Gulf Shores, Alabama. Looks like the Andersons will be landing in Mexico by boat.”
GULF SHORES, ALABAMA
AXIS AND AXALIA
Fishing boat captainMoses Pierce spent half his life in military intelligence. During his long career, he rose through the ranks and earned his stars and stripes as a general. He was instrumental in preventing global terrorist attacks and apprehending those whose ideologies threatened peace around the world. When he retired at age fifty-five, he desired a quiet life pursuing his childhood love of fishing. So, he bought a thirty-five-foot trawler and christened her theExodus,inspired by his biblical namesake, and started a business taking folks out into the Gulf on pleasure fishing excursions and selling his catch of the day directly to local seafood restaurants.
“You’re boring me.” Axalia waved her gun at him. “So, you’re a fuckin’ hero. If you don’t save my brother’s life, you’ll be a dead one.”
“Lia!” Axis gasped. “We agreed. No more killing.”
“What about Julia? She shot you! Our own sister!”
“I’ll live. Right, Captain Pierce?”
“The bullet went straight through your leg. You’re a lucky young man. But you should have stitched up the wound earlier.” Captain Pierce shoved a needle with thread through the gaping bullet hole.
Axis spoke through gritted teeth. “Couldn’t. Not with cops on our tail.”
“Your sister is a cop, and she shot you?” Captain Pierce asked.
Axalia chuckled. “Not a cop! A DEA agent. Wanna know who her grandfather is?
Gen—”
“Shut up!” Axis barked. “Shut up! Shut up!”
