a/n: Thanks so much for keeping up the reviews. It keeps me writing! I think you might like this chapter. I'll get going on the next one too. :o)
Chapter Twelve: Prison Break
My brain was playing catch-up. Next to the soldier (who I was certain was dead) was the food tray, with blood along one edge of it. I tried to put the pieces together . . .
Lake used the tray as a weapon.
He crushed it against the soldier's throat. I blinked.
"Jane," Lake whispered. I looked to him. Despite the pain that was radiating off him, he was on full alert. "We have to move. Now."
It took me a second, as if I was deliberating about it, which was stupid. I got to my feet and went to him. My leg ached with each step, but there was no time—Lake had given us our chance to escape.
"Are you all right?" I asked, whispering back.
"Good enough," he said. I moved to steady him, but he shook his head. "See if he has a pistol."
I looked down at the dead body and swallowed. I tried not to look at the mangled neck. The soldier was young. I hadn't seen him before.
There was a machine gun draped across his chest. I started for it.
"No, not that one. Something light," Lake said. I heard him groan, but I could tell he was trying to cover it up. I noticed a holster for a gun at the soldier's thigh. I pulled the gun from it, and passed it to Lake. "Good. Follow me."
I still felt about five seconds behind Lake. What was he doing? He couldn't be moving on his own, not this much. But he poked his head out the door, and then went outside. He held the gun in his right hand, which he kept at his side.
The crickets sounded louder now. I followed Lake and his stumbling footsteps. Our little holding area was in the middle of several other similar buildings. I saw a few rebel soldiers patrolling. Lake motioned for me to stop. We hugged the wall of one building. I could hear snoring within.
Lake touched my hand. He nodded to our left, and then led the way. We passed the door into one of the buildings, and suddenly it swung open.
I nearly shrieked. Lake grabbed my hand and pulled me away from the door. We both held still as a soldier stumbled out of the building. Lake slowly brought his right arm up, aiming the gun at the back of the soldier's head. His arm shook, the strain bothering him.
The soldier swiped at his eyes, never turning to look behind the door where we were. I heard him yawn. He was starting his patrol. Lake lowered his arm.
He squeezed my hand. We moved backwards, our eyes never leaving the soldier who would see us if he barely turned back. We slid around the corner.
Lake led me past a few other buildings, stopping and waiting some times, and then moving forward towards a perimeter fence. I eyed the fence warily. It was tall. Lake was in no condition to scale it, and with my gimpy leg, I didn't know how good I would be either.
We came to the fence. Barbed wire topped it off. There was no way, not without getting hurt more. I looked to Lake, the question clear enough in my eyes that he said:
"We'll find a way."
We'd have to find it quick. With the soldiers on patrol around the camp, we were just targets for discovery. Plus, someone was bound to see the guard Lake had killed.
Lake picked up the pace. I limped behind him just as quickly. Lake looked in every direction, like the most cautious defensive driver ever. I found myself looking over my shoulder. I saw a guard in the distance, but he was moving behind a building. We were okay, for now.
"Up here," I heard Lake say. We went a bit further until we reached a gap in the fence, where it's supposed to meet the ground. The ground had a dip in it, giving about an 18 inch opening. "Go," Lake said, and I dropped on my stomach and crawled through. The bottom edge of the fence brushed the top of my head. I ducked further and got to the other side.
Lake got down. He looked pale again, but it might have just been that everything looked pale against the night.
"Slide on your back," I suggested. Lake did. I reached for his shoulders and tried to be gentle to pull him through. He moved pretty well on his own, until the bottom of the fence scraped over his stomach. He groaned, but I heard his teeth clamp shut to muffle the noise.
I moved to the fence and tried to pull up so he could move a little easier. His wound looked like it was still closed, although there was a fresh scratch on the right side.
Just then, I heard several voices from the middle of the buildings where we'd been held. I stared in that direction. Figures were moving about, and I heard the voices rising.
"Come on," Lake said. He was back to his feet, but clutching his stomach. He grabbed my arm; the touch grounded me to the urgency of our escape. I was so afraid a spot light would shine down on us and a swarm of angry rebels would surround and capture us. "Jane, hurry!"
I stumbled, grimacing at the jarring in my leg, and followed Lake. I looked back at the rebel camp.
"Don't do that," Lake whispered. He pulled me ahead of him.
"What?" I asked. My eyes felt so wide, probably showing how scared I was. My heart raced.
"Don't look back."
I swallowed and looked ahead. We walked, ran, hobbled—whatever you want to call our uneven motion—towards the city.
-0-0-0-
The word was out. The rebels were on full alert about our escape. Jeeps and trucks roared by, spreading throughout the city.
Lake and I made it to the outskirts around dawn, although we had to stop and hide (and rest) a few times. It was amazing how quiet it was. Granted, it was morning and early still, but there was something about it . . .
I think the quietness was partially fear. No one was out and about, doing their normal daily routine. People were hiding. I saw a few faces poke out and watch as the rebel army rode by.
There was an old apartment building, a little more inside the city than the borders. Lake had insisted we move beyond the outskirts. "It'll be the first place they look," he'd said. We went inside, but Lake was still really cautious. He had the gun out, and he was in a half-crouch. We moved from the dirty, badly-lit entryway and up the stairs.
Above us a couple of floors, someone opened a door. Lake quickly stepped into an open doorway across from us. He pulled me in, and we stumbled back to a halt. I glanced around. We were in the shambles of an apartment. It looked abandoned. The doorway was open because the door was half-broken, hanging off the hinges.
The footsteps above moved down the stairs. Lake kept a light grip on me, and stepped back further into the apartment. We waited until the footsteps passed. Lake kept his eyes on the doorway, as if he was expecting someone to barge in. I didn't feel that would be the case.
"I doubt it's the soldiers," I whispered to him. Lake looked away from the door.
"Me too," he said. "But if it's anyone who supports Yakubu, they can report us." I felt like I was Anne Frank all of a sudden. Ordinary people might turn us in? "A lot of the people left alive by Yakubu and Sadick are all for ethnic cleansing. They'll want what Yakubu wants."
I shut my eyes, digesting that. What am I in the middle of? It wasn't the first time I thought that. We're in the middle of more enemies. Potential enemies, but still.
"Are we going to the embassy?" I asked. Lake nodded.
"If we can."
Great.
My leg spasmed. I let my knee buckle and sank to the floor.
"Jane?"
"I'm okay," I said automatically. My whole body felt tired. Not that the escape was that grueling, physically, but the stress of it all was taking its toll. Lake sat down by me. I looked at his torso. The stitching looked intact still, but his skin looked all bruised. I heard that was common after surgeries, since it was all just blood beneath the skin, but it looked ugly.
"The embassy is in the middle of the city," Lake said.
"Of course it is," I muttered. Lake half-smiled.
"I know how to get there, okay?"
I blinked. "How?"
"Earlier this week, we evacuated some people from it," he said.
"If you evacuated people, is anyone left to help us?" I asked.
"Maybe. At least a few soldiers," he said. "Unless things have gotten really bad, diplomatically."
Personally, I thought things were already bad, diplomatically or not. I eyed his chest.
"How do we get there without people noticing us?" I asked, nodding to his bare skin. "We stand out regardless, but a shirt might help."
Lake grinned. "I think my hair will be just as obvious." Thank goodness for that humor again. It actually made me laugh. I looked up to that mohawk. Yeah, that was a problem here—not too many fugitive white guys with mohawks running around. Otherwise, it was actually growing on me. I looked back to Lake's face.
His eyes were focused on mine. There was a twinkle in his eyes.
"How are you doing?" he asked.
"What do you mean?" I mean, come on. He'd seen everything I'd been through too. We were both neck-deep in it.
"I mean what I said: how are you?" That clarification did nothing for me. Lake must have seen it, because he chuckled. "You're not a soldier. You're not trained to handle this. I just want to make sure you're . . ."
I smiled. "Well, getting shot at and being held by a rebel government aren't the ideal memories I wanted here, but what can a girl do."
He smiled, looking away with a chuckle.
"We should keep going," Lake said. He started to get up. I groaned, but got to my feet anyway. My leg was so sore.
Suddenly Lake fell back against the wall. He tried to steady himself. I reached out to help, but he slid back to the floor. He swore under his breath.
"Lake?"
He shut his eyes tight. His face was strained. I could tell he was clenching his teeth. He started to stand again.
"Lake, no." I put my hands on his shoulders (minding his right shoulder), lightly pushing against him. His eyes flashed open, angrily.
"Help me up," he said. I tried not to let his sudden heated tone get to me.
"You have to rest," I said. "You're going to kill yourself if you don't."
"Jane, I know what I'm doing," he said. "We have to get to the embassy as soon as possible."
I didn't doubt him. But the pain Lake was in was more than a cramp. I really was afraid he would exhaust himself so far that his condition would worsen—or that he'd die. That was the last thing I wanted.
"One hour."
Lake blinked. "One hour what?"
"We rest for one hour. It won't make that much difference," I said. He scoffed.
"A second can make all the difference!"
"Shhhh!" I warned him. Weren't we worried about civilians turning us in too? He colored slightly.
"Sorry," he said, his voice much quieter. "You have to know, though. Every second we waste, General Yakubu and Sadick are increasing the guard around the embassy. They know that's where we're headed."
I didn't like the idea of Sadick and his soldiers waiting for us.
"They'll do anything to get us back," Lake said, "or kill us."
"What if you collapse?" I asked. I glared at him, daring him to challenge me on this.
"What if the only way to get us out is cut off?" He wasn't backing down either. "I can't protect you if everything's against us."
Desperation leaked through his words. I felt a lump rise in my throat. His eyes betrayed just how worried he was about this. He was worried about me. Protecting me. I couldn't remember my argument, staring at him. How could this soldier, hardened and cold, worry about a simple girl who stupidly put herself in harm's way? I didn't understand it. But I did understand why I felt the way I did.
"Lake," I started, and my voice wavered, "I don't want you to protect me if it costs you your life."
"Jane--"
"We've been through too much already and are still alive," I said quickly. "How much more can you take?"
He didn't answer.
"I don't want to get to the embassy just to have you die there." And that's when my voice broke. I felt tears prick at my eyes. Quickly, I looked away. Stupid emotions. Why could I never get them under control? If I wasn't shaking in my boots with fear, I was tearing up at—
Lake touched my face, gently turning me back towards him. I blinked back the moisture in my eyes. There was a slight smile to his lips, almost like he was amused by something. My instinct was to cuss him out if he was laughing at me, but then he pulled me closer.
He leaned towards me and I to him. His eyes were searching mine, and his face was just inches away, but waiting. I realized how beautiful his green eyes were, even more when they stared at me like this. My heart was thudding hard in my chest, but I barely noticed. I smiled softly. Lake's smile widened for just a second, and then he kissed me.
I've been kissed before. I've thought I was in love before. But something about this was different. Deeper. I've heard people doubt how clear your heart or mind is when you're in an intense situation. Maybe I wasn't too clear on things. But as Lake and I kissed, there was a tenderness I've never felt with any other guy. I never would have guessed Lake, a Navy SEAL, would be this way, especially not when we first met. I savored the feel of his lips--
The building shook as an explosion rattled Lake and I apart.
"Stay down!" Lake hissed. The explosion happened outside. I could hear the debris still falling. Lake moved to one battered window, staying out of sight as he looked to the street.
"What is it?" I whispered.
"We can't stay," he said. He scrambled to me, wincing the whole time, but I figured now wasn't a time to argue about health. "They blew up a business across the street."
Why?
"An American business," Lake added, as if he could sense my confusion. "We have to get to the embassy."
With one hand, he grabbed the gun we'd taken from the soldier back at the rebel camp. With the other, he grabbed my hand and squeezed it once. Then we waited for an opportunity to get away.
