“Good,” he said. “I don’t do tears.”
She studied the top of his head as he worked over her wrist. The man didn’t do tears? What had he meant by that? Marta almost wanted to squeeze a few out just to see his reaction.
Crusher touched the alcohol pad to her wrist.
Marta flinched, gasped and yanked her hand out of his. “Wow,” she said quietly. “You were right. That did sting.” She let the burning sensation subside a little before she held out her wrist to Crusher. “Sorry. Please continue.”
He tore open another packet and held it over her wrist, hesitating.
“It’s okay. I know what to expect now,” she assured him.
This time, when he dabbed at the wound, she gritted her teeth and reminded herself that people didn’t die of pain. They died of disease and infection.
Crusher hurried through the final cleaning and squirted antibiotic ointment over the inflamed area. Then he covered it with a gauze pad and medical tape. He went over the top when he wound a bandage around and around her wrist, making it twice as big as normal.
Marta raised her massive wrist to the starlight and wrinkled her brow. “Sure it’s not overkill?”
“It’ll protect the wound from further impurities, and the padding will help with the pain should you bump into anything.” He gathered the leftover supplies, tucked them into his pocket and handed her a bottle of water. “Drink. As humid and hot as it is in the jungle, you can dehydrate quickly and not realize it until it’s too late.”
When she struggled to open the cap, he unscrewed it for her.
“I would’ve gotten antibiotic pills,” he said, “but I wasn’t sure of the translations.”
“Keeping the wound clean and dry will help it to heal,” she said.
She drank deeply, the liquid helping to cool her body. Now all she needed was a good night’s sleep, and she’d be as right as rain.
When she’d downed half the water, Marta eased the cap back on the bottle. “The truck with the spotlight...” she started.
He hesitated, his gaze shooting toward the road. “It carried four heavily armed men looking for something.”
“Me?” she asked, a shiver shaking her body.
Crusher turned back to her. “They drove through town, turned around and drove back out.”
“Do you think they’ll be back?”
“I have no idea. But we need to plan like they’ll return and stay out of sight.”
“Agreed. How much further to where we’re going?”
“Roughly ten miles,” he said.
Marta swallowed hard on the moan that threatened to rise up her throat. She wasn’t at all sure she had ten more miles in her.
His lips twitched, and starlight glinted off his irises. “Don’t worry, we’re going to find a ride.”
She frowned. “I don’t think they have Uber out here.”
“No, but they have deliveries, some of which should happen in the early hours of the morning. We just need to hide close to where they’ll be and be ready to jump in the back of whatever truck is going our way. It’s that or steal someone’s truck, which might draw more attention than we need at this point.”
“There are a lot of holes in this plan as I see it,” she said. “You’re assuming trucks will arrive early.”
“If they don’t, we wait until one does come.”
“What if it’s not headed in the direction we’re going? How will you know?”
“We’ll watch for one coming into town from the opposite direction. The driver would be on a route to supply multiple vendors. We need to get to the next town. The road leads to it.”
