Despite the scorching heat, Shane felt a chill pass through him. He knew it was a sign of dehydration. Coupled with the fact that he had barely been able to eat his quarter of one of the emergency ration bars that morning, the symptoms told him that their situation was becoming rather dire. Even crouched in the shade of the small cave in the rock formation, the desiccating heat was taking its toll.
He looked over at Malik, who was lying on the ground and sleeping fitfully. During the morning, he had woken only briefly, just long enough for Shane to give him some of their scarce water supply. Malik had been feverish and had no idea where he was or who he was with. Without medical care, Shane doubted the young man would survive much longer.
Shane reached into his trouser pocket and pulled out the ISA signaling device. The red light on it was still flashing, so he knew it was sending out a signal. Where are they?
Earlier, they had heard a couple of helicopters. Salim had tried to rush out, but Shane had stopped him. They had no idea if the helicopters belonged to Coalition forces or to the Iraqis.
"We're going to die here," Salim said in Arabic. "Better to be captured than die from lack of water."
Shane looked at the scientist and noticed that his face was flushed red, another sign of dehydration. Picking up the pouch of water at his feet, which had a little over a cup of liquid left inside, Shane tossed it to Salim and said, "Finish it."
Salim hesitated, obviously feeling guilty about taking more water than the others, but Shane nodded. "Go ahead. Drink that." Salim needed no further encouragement as he opened the pouch and drained its contents.
Shane coughed, making a sound that was little more than a rasp, and stared out at the desert visible through the gap in the rocks that opened into their hiding place. The desert was just as empty and desolate as the last time he had looked. An hour earlier, when he was sure that the helicopters had gone, Shane had left the rock formation and had tried scouting the area in the hope of seeing some sign of nearby water. He had found nothing.
Now he had to make a decision. Did they keep moving south once it got dark or did they stay where they were in the hope someone finally responded to their signal? Neither was a particularly attractive option. If they left the cave, with so little water between them and the need to carry Malik, they would have to move slowly and would barely make a dent in the more than 100 miles between them and the Saudi border. On the other hand, moving might bring them closer to a water supply; there certainly was none where they were.
But the rock formation also provided a benefit. It allowed them to prepare for Shane's contingency plan if Iraqi soldiers found them. He looked at the pit they had dug near the base of the rocks. A pile of sand sat next to it and their second pouch of water was at the base of the pit, just in case it had to be used. Now, however, Shane did not even know if Salim would follow through with the plan. He might welcome capture.
"How do I get myself into these messes?" Shane muttered, though he knew the answer. You decided to run away from your personal problems.
He leaned back against the sandy wall, not caring that the sand might stick to his white shirt. That would actually be a good sign. If his shirt was wet from perspiration, it probably meant he was still only in the stages of mild dehydration. Unfortunately, his shirt did not seem to stick; it was too dry.
Shane tried to take his mind off the heat by thinking again of home. It was odd that his thoughts had mainly focused on Kim and Andrew, but not so much on Kayla. Maybe he was really starting to let go. Or maybe it was just easier for him to visualize Kim and Andrew at the Salem house.
Whatever it was, he could not help but notice the difference between how he had felt when Kim had walked out and how he felt now. When Kim had left him, she had never been far from his thoughts. He had tried to hide it, tried to bury the pain, but it was always there and his mind constantly replayed memories of their life together.
With Kayla, the pain was different. When he thought of her, it was not about the times they had shared together in the past. Rather, the pain came from realizing he had lost a future that could never happen. He was starting to think that his love for Kayla had less to do with her as a person than what she represented.
It wasn't that he did not care for Kayla. He did sincerely care for her and for Stephanie. Kayla was caring, affectionate, a devoted mother, and fun to be around. He had seen all of those things when she and Stephanie lived with him, and in the months afterwards as their relationship had developed.
But more than that - as absurd as it sounded even to hm - one of the major attractions to Shane was that Kayla was not Kim. She did not demand as much from him and, like he told her, Kayla had been willing to accept the limits of what he could give. They could try to make one another happy without ever having to expose their hearts fully. And that meant never risking the deep hurt that had seemed to be an inevitable part of his relationship with Kim. He and Kim had - and did - love each other deeply, but Shane did not think he could stand the pain that came from that love any more. With Kayla and their silent acceptance of the limits on what they could give, and what they expected from the other, he had seen a chance at a future with love and family, but without opening himself to the risk of being hurt like he had the times when Kim walked out on him. He doubted he could survive that kind of pain again.
And now that he was not in such close proximity to Kayla, Shane was beginning to realize that those limits were the crux of their relationship. In many ways, the pain Shane felt when Steve returned was the very same pain he had felt when Kim left. Kayla had allowed him to bury that pain for a time with the hope of a future, but it all came back when that future was lost. So what Shane was feeling was as much about losing what Kayla represented as it was about losing Kayla herself. Maybe more.
No. Definitely more. What truly hurt was knowing that Kayla probably represented his only chance at finding happiness in a relationship. She was probably his only chance to have the future he wanted. Shane knew he had little chance of finding another woman willing to accept his limitations.
It only took crashing a helicopter, cracking my skull, and a case of dehydration to figure that out. The thought would have made him laugh if the situation was not so dire.
On the ground, Malik stirred. Shane started to move toward him, but he began shaking and then started yelling in his delirium as if something was attacking him.
No, Shane thought, remembering the helicopters. In the desert, the noise of Malik's screaming would carry for miles. He ran over to Malik and tried to wake him, but it was futile. With no other option, Shane cupped Malik's mouth, trying to stop the screams.
"You have to wake up," he urged, keeping his voice low. "Come on. Wake up." He kept shaking the man, but nothing was working. The screaming continued for what felt like hours, even if it was probably only about five minutes.
Finally, Malik quieted, though his eyes were open and he still stirred and muttered deliriously. Shane took some time to check his injuries and see if he could do anything to help Malik. He took out some more of the aspirin and forced them into Malik's mouth. At this rate, they would be out of the painkillers within another day or two.
Shane sat back with a sigh and looked over at Salim. The flush was gone from his cheeks. He had gone completely pale. Then Shane realized why.
From somewhere outside the rocks, he heard shouts. In Arabic.
Shane could not see the men, but they sounded far too close for comfort. At that moment, Malik began to scream again
There goes any chance of staying hidden, he thought. Shane motioned to Salim, who apparently had now decided that hiding was better than capture. Salim jumped into the pit, as Shane rushed to the edge.
He hesitated momentarily before he pulled out both of his guns and handed them to Salim. Shane would have no more use for them. Not where I'm going.
Then Shane pulled one of the ponchos over the hole in the ground, covered the poncho with sand, and made sure the edges of the pit were not visible. Near the base of the rocks were some gaps in the sand. Those would allow Salim to breathe while being virtually undetectable to anyone searching the area.
"Stay still until we're gone," Shane whispered. Or dead. He reached into his pocket, pulled out the signaling device and dropped it through one of the small gaps. "Make sure you keep that with you."
From outside, a deep voice spoke. "Come out now."
Shane turned back toward Malik, but before he could say anything, the voice spoke again. "Come out now or we will blow up the cave with grenades."
Which would probably kill them all, including Salim, Shane thought. He took a step back and looked at Salim's hiding place. That's as good as it's going to get. He swallowed and took a deep breath, before he tried responding to their pursuers in Arabic. His first attempt was nearly inaudible because his mouth and throat were so dry. He swallowed once more and tried to respond again. This time, he was able to shout.
"We are unarmed and we surrender," he yelled. "I have got an injured man who needs medical treatment." Malik had stopped screaming, but his eyes were open and he was murmuring deliriously.
"Bring him out with you," came the order.
"Sorry," Shane said, as he bent down and lifted Malik to his feet. The young agent cried in pain, then his head lolled to the side, coming to rest on Shane's shoulder. Shane wondered if Malik had passed out again from the pain and fever. That was probably the best thing. Shane almost wished he could do the same.
Taking another deep breath, Shane called out to the Iraqis, "We are coming out." Holding Malik up, Shane took a few hesitant steps into the blazing sunlight.
A half-dozen Iraqi soldiers surrounded them. A couple came closer, pulled Malik away, and threw him to the ground. Shane raised his arms and stood still, wondering if they were going to kill him now or prolong the inevitable.
Shane closed his eyes momentarily and said a silent prayer. Then he opened his eyes, stared into the barrels of a couple of AK-47s, and once again asked how he had gotten himself into this mess.