Chapter Eleven: Changing Circumstances

Sadick returned a few hours later. The camera was with one of his soldiers.

"This can't be good," Lake muttered.

"What should we do?" I whispered. Lake just shook his head. That wasn't very comforting. As usual, the soldiers surrounded us. Sadick stood in front of the camera, while I sat next to the cot and Lake.

"Our intelligence reports the United States is protecting Arthur Azuka," Sadick said directly to the camera. Intelligence, I assumed, meant Yakubu's spies. "Protecting a fugitive at the expense of your own people is not what I expected of your government. They will suffer the consequences."

He gestured to me and Lake. I gulped.

"Kelly Lake will be tried publically if Arthur Azuka does not come. The girl will be made to work off her crimes." I saw Lake's fist clench at that. I didn't quite get what that meant.

"You have two days left. After that, General Yakubu and I will have no alternative." The camera shut off then, and Sadick turned rapidly to Lake, swinging with all his might. His fist smacked into Lake's face.

Sadick shouted something in Nigerian, and the soldiers cheered. Lake nearly teetered off the cot. I grabbed his arm and then tried to steady him. Lake looked ticked. He glared at Sadick.

Sadick noticed. He turned back to Lake, saying something to the soldiers that didn't sound good. I looked to Lake, hoping he'd back down. But Lake just kept glaring back.

"Americans, acting like they control everything," Sadick said. His arm drew back.

I faced Sadick and leaned backwards over Lake.

"Please," I said. Sadick's hard stare shifted to me, and it didn't let up. His fist came right at me. I felt the smack and then saw nothing but blackness. I hit the ground before my vision came back.

"Leave her alone!"

I saw Sadick's boot come at me, nailing me in the stomach. But then the boots moved away. The soldiers followed him again.

"He needs a woman to protect him," Sadick said. That was a low-blow for a soldier. I heard them all leave, and then the doors banged shut.

"Jane?" I felt Lake's hand on my shoulder. I turned onto my back, looking up at him on the cot.

"I'm okay." I sat up, trying to ignore the ache in my stomach. Lake stared at me. He reached for my face with his left arm. I winced as his fingers touched the left side. "I'm okay, really."

Lake didn't answer. His jaw was tight, and he looked upset, but he was getting it under control.

"That's going to bruise," he said finally. I tried to smile it off.

"I'll live."

Lake tried to smile back, but his expression turned cold.

"Rest up. We have to leave as soon as we have an opportunity."

I frowned. "Why the sudden hurry?" The deadline Sadick gave hadn't changed. Lake could still use all the rest possible.

"It's time," was all Lake said. I didn't buy that. I glanced at my watch.

"Speaking of, antibiotics." I dug out the vial and syringe, and filled it where the doctor had showed me. But as I uncapped the syringe, I got cold feet. The sharp, metal point of the needle shook in my hands. What the heck was I doing?

"You okay?"

"Um, yeah," I said. "I've never given a shot before."

"Well don't tell me that," Lake said. He pulled at his pants, showing off a bare hip. "Just stick me where the doc did before." I swallowed. I wasn't sure I could do this.

"Why, um," I started, "why do we have to leave sooner?" I was trying to distract myself. The needle hovered over Lake's skin. He was turned as much as he could so I had better access.

"I don't think he'll hold up his end of the deal," Lake said. I frowned. That didn't make sense. Lake sounded nervous, but I don't think it was the impending shot.

"Are you lying?" I asked. Before Lake could I answer, I plunged the needle in the backside of his hip. Lake hissed.

"Geez, try harder next time," he muttered. I swallowed, and pushed the plunger down, emptying the antibiotic into Lake. I'm amazed I didn't faint when I pulled out the needle.

"Lake, tell me the truth," I said, capping the syringe. I hid it and the vial back under the cot. "Why do you think we have to leave?"

Lake tried to avoid my eyes, but I kept watching him. He sighed.

"If Arthur doesn't show up—and we know he can't—they'll kill me," he said. "There won't be a trial. But with you . . ."

He hadn't told me the worst of it. I waited, holding my breath.

"They'll keep you alive," he said. I still didn't get it. What had Sadick said?

"To work off my crimes?" I repeated. Lake stared at me, waiting for the light to come on. "Jail?" I guessed.

Lake sighed heavily. "What suburb did you come from?" he muttered.

"Well, sorry, but just tell me—"

"They'll whore you out," Lake said, and all my breath left me. That was blunt. His green eyes stared into mine, powerfully, hauntingly, fearful. "They'll rape you. Abuse you. Until you die or they find some other use for you."

My mind went blank. It was better than the images Lake's words had conjured up. I stared back at him, and slowly nodded.

"Oh."

-0-0-0-

As dusk was coming, Lake got up. I watched, ready to get to my feet and help, but he seemed all right. He walked gingerly, stretching a little but otherwise looking kind of stiff. I could see the muscles in his back shift with his movements.

He walked along the side of the walls. Every few steps he would stop and listen. Then he continued on. When he got to the door, he listened longer. He put his hands on the door quietly, and felt along the edges—more with his left arm than his right. The bullet wound in his right shoulder held back movement, but it didn't completely stop him from trying.

He came back to the cot on his own. I almost got up to help him lay down, but something told me not to. Lake was used to being on his own, self-sufficient. While he hadn't resented me for helping him before, he was in a different mood now.

"What do you think?" I asked carefully.

Lake looked to the tray of food by our cot.

"When did they bring that?" he asked. I thought back. Not even a day ago, but . . .

"Last night, before Sadick came the first time." I eyed the food. Sitting in a warm, humid place couldn't be good for food quality. "I wouldn't eat it at this point though."

Lake tried not to smile.

"I'm trying to figure out when they'll be back," he said. The embarrassment registered on my face before I could stop it. I had to look away.

Lake shifted on the cot. He grimaced and tried to get more comfortable. He inspected his torso, gingerly touching the stitches. His face was unreadable.

He kept quiet, just listening, and looking around occasionally. I asked him what he was doing. He just said he was gathering information.

They brought a new tray of food, no more appetizing than the day before. Lake tried to eat a little. I ate some too. It really wasn't that good, but I was getting weaker and weaker, and my stomach hurt more than Lake's. Probably not, but I let myself dream about a cheeseburger.

Dawn came, again, and I gave Lake his last shot.

"You think I'd get used to that sting, but . . ." Lake shook his head. I liked that his humor was back.

"You should rest up," I said. He was lying down, and I could see his eyes were half-shut on their own. Throughout the night, I'd dozed on and off, but I don't think Lake did. Or if he did, not enough.

"I will," he said.

"Lake." I stared at him pointedly. "You're two days past a major surgery, in a third-world country, with little follow-up care. You probably shouldn't even be moving at all."

He smiled tightly. "Desperate times . . ."

I sighed.

"Do me a favor, and then I'll rest," he said. I was instantly suspicious.

"What."

He pointed at the food tray. "Clear that off."

I frowned. "Why?"

Lake just smiled. "You'll understand later."

-0-0-0-

I woke up because I heard Lake moving around. It was night time. I couldn't really see him till my eyes adjusted. But when they did, Lake was standing by the door, wincing in pain and gasping for breath. His arm was cradled around his stomach, and he fell back to lean against the wall.

At his feet lay a soldier, eyes wide open, and his neck . . . It looked mangled and bloodied. The food tray was next to him.

Lake's eyes met mine. Between gasps, he said:

"Let's go."