Vain (The Seven Deadly 1)

“Pemmy! Yes, it’s Sophie! We charged the phone, so it’s got a full battery. If I use it sparingly, I think it could last a few days. Do you have any news?”

“Good...hear...the doctor...I’ve arranged a plane,” he said, breaking in clearly. “They should be in Kampala in forty-eight hours with everything you need. I could only get clearance for medical supplies, Sophie, so let Karina know I couldn’t include food or clothing this drop. I’ve arranged for armed escorts...delivery to Masego.”

He broke out at this point and we lost connection. I tried again with no luck. I turned the sat phone off and tucked it into its canvas carrying bag before looking Dingane’s direction.

“Did you hear him?” I asked.

He nodded. “Forty-eight hours,” he spoke solemnly. “We’ll have to quarantine in three sections. Confirmed cases, suspected cases and children showing no signs of illness.”

“What are the odds we can keep most of them clean?” I asked.

“I’ve no idea.” Ian turned to me. “It’ll be you and me with the sickest children.”

“We don’t even know if any of them will be ill, Ian.”

His face softened. “Sophie, that’s an inevitability.”

Ian put the jeep in gear and we sped off in the direction of Masego and into a pinkening sky. The sun would be leaving us soon, making me nervous for some reason I didn’t know.

An hour after we’d left Jinja, the tension in the truck was palpable. So many emotions swirled around us and I wanted so badly for Ian to pull over and cut that tension with his mouth. I stared out my window, my elbow resting outside the window. I felt strands of hair whipping against my face. My braids had started to fall out. I checked the mirror to see if it needed to be let down or if I could just tuck in the strays. It was a mess.

I swallowed knowing the simple act of releasing my braids was more intimate a moment than I’d experienced in even my most vulnerable moments with other men. I looked over at him and brought my hand slowly to my left braid sliding the tie off painfully slowly. I wanted him to notice.

Ian’s eyes flitted my direction, his breathing grew deeper and deeper, and I could feel the heat of his gaze pool in the pit of my stomach. I dropped the band in the seat next to me before lifting my hand to release the braid but Ian’s warm, callused hand stopped mine. He slowed the truck a bit before threading his fingers over the top of my belt and sliding me closer to him. My eyes lidded and my breath rushed out of me. He turned me to face him and with his free hand, he undid each plait much like he’d done during the lesson. When he was done, he slowly lifted his fingers and cupped the side of my face, before turning his head toward me. I couldn’t stop myself from placing my hand on his forearm and closing my eyes, reveling in his scorching touch. I took three steadying breaths and tried desperately not to melt into him.

I opened my eyes to look on him, but he glanced back to the road, narrowing his eyes slightly.

“No,” he whispered as a body of light unexpectedly shone brightly into the cab. He whipped my body down and covered my head with his chest.

I was beyond shaken as he veered the jeep into a sharp turn, coming to an abrupt stop perpendicular to the road we were traveling.

Before I had a chance to react, he was shoving me out the passenger side door ordering me to keep my head down. Adrenaline leaked into my limbs and I obeyed without hesitation. With stealth-like speed I didn’t think human, Ian slid out, tossing open the glove box and removing his revolver, cocking it and handing it to me without so much as a word before settling next to me. He sidled over to the back seat door and threw it open, leaning in to retrieve his AK just as the first bullet came whizzing over the top of the jeep. My heart froze in my throat and I ducked farther down, tucking myself against the side of my door. Ian shimmied out and slammed the door shut.

“Shit,” I heard him say as he steadily unfolded the stock and clicked the magazine in place. “Keep your head down, Soph,” he said, sliding to my other side and bracing his gun on the hood of the jeep.

Immediately, gunfire rang throughout the quiet night and my own revolver shook in my hands. Ian returned fire. After a minute, but what felt like an hour, I calmed myself down enough to grip my gun without trembling. I adjusted my body to set next to Ian’s.

“Don’t even think about it,” Ian said coolly to the night in front of him before sending a spray of bullets our assailer’s direction.

“I have to help you.”

“No, you only fire their direction if they’re upon us, Soph.”

Another round of bullets screamed our direction, shattering the only closed back passenger window and hurtling above our heads. Ian crouched down long enough to meet my eyes and a million promises transferred in that brief moment. He tore his gaze from mine and raised himself abruptly, repositioning his gun before firing their direction.

“Hand me one of those magazines?”

It was dark but the headlights of our attackers’ vehicle lit through the underbelly of our jeep and I spotted one of the magazines he asked for. I picked it up and handed it to him. He dropped the hot, used magazine to the ground and replaced it so quickly I barely registered it. He fired back within seconds.

“Who are they?” I asked.

“Thieves.”

“With automatic weapons?” I asked in disbelief.

“Yes.”

Ian unleashed an ungodly amount of bullets their way and they answered in kind. I covered my ears as best I could and tried so very hard to keep the tea down. Despite every attempt, I could not stop my body from trembling.