The woman started to climb over the seat. The van jerked, fishtailing on the deserted road. Tandi fell back in her seat with a shriek. Hugh was flung sideways, but he held strong.
Amelia chewed her bottom lip until she tasted blood. Joshua cried. In pain or fear? She felt torn in half, making life-and-death decisions in an unimaginable situation. Things were happening so fast, she had only a split second to act.
Her fingers hooked onto Hugh’s vest, gripped, hauled. Her arms stretched in the sockets, screaming until she wondered if she might literally be torn in half. She vaguely registered Tandi shouting again at her or Oliver. Amelia tugged harder until finally—
Hugh catapulted inside. He landed hard on top of her, her nose pressed into matted tan carpet fibers.
Tandi shouted from the front again. “Who the hell are you? Where did you come from?”
“Shit,” Oliver cursed.
Amelia just held onto Hugh with arms that shook from relief as much as the exhaustion.
Tandi pointed her gun toward the back, in spite of Oliver’s warning. “One move from either of you, and I’ll let shots ricochet right into both your heads. Got it? Answer me, damn it.”
“I hear you,” Amelia answered fast.
“Uh-huh.” Hugh stayed on top of her, his arm curling around to include Joshua.
He was here. Actually here. She could hardly wrap her brain around the fact, but finally, there was hope again.
The van screeched to a stop. The back doors slammed closed from the momentum. Hugh grunted.
“No, Oliver,” Tandi screamed. “Go! Go! They’ll jump out and the Guardian will kill us.”
Oliver cursed again, and the van lurched forward. Tires squealed along with the sound of spewing rocks as the van peeled out.
Tandi leaned over her seat, silver gun in hand and pointed at Hugh. “You picked the wrong day to be a hero, big guy.”
***
Lisabeth Bailey was used to long days in her job as a surgical nurse. But what she’d been through in the aftermath of the earthquake surpassed anything she’d ever experienced.
She tossed the bloody scrubs into the laundry—not that clothes were getting washed, with the water shortage. Since the church was now overflowing with injured, the military engineers had set up tents outside for showers and latrines. The canvas walls flapped in the light wind that rolled in from the beach carrying the fetid odor of rotting garbage and decaying corpses. She pressed the back of her wrist against her mouth while she swallowed down bile. Strong smells were tough enough to handle in a normal situation, but this place reeked.
The garden paradise she’d loved since birth had been obliterated in a few earth-shattering seconds. Nothing about the current wreckage resembled her childhood island home, her last connection to her parents, who’d died while she was in college in the States. The loss around her, the grief and the heartbreak, festered inside her until it was all she could do to keep from vomiting during the surgery.
But her help was crucial, especially in these early hours while relief personnel and supplies were still en route. Airplanes overhead promised the arrival of more aid, but they were also faced with the shortage of nearby landing space… then ways to transport the goods and people to the critical areas.
Wind parted two tarps and revealed a bulldozer in the distance alongside a woman and man digging with shovels. The couple moved like automatons. They’d been picking through the rubble for as long as she’d been here. Looters would have left long ago. Their search was more personal. But after this much time, their odds of finding a live family member were growing slimmer.
Her gut grumbled again.
She dipped a finger into a small jar of menthol and thumbed a streak under her nose. She tipped her head back and inhaled. Exhaled. In and out, until her stomach settled. She huffed a spiral of hair off her brow.
Exhaustion steamrolled over her. She’d been on her feet for nearly five days, already exhausted when they’d arrived, racked with indecision over what to do about the adoption.
Then she’d met Joshua and fallen in love with his sweet face. Even now, she remembered the feel of his baby-soft cheek against hers. In that moment, she felt the connection, the bond. He’d become her son. She couldn’t do anything to jeopardize that.
Except now he was missing, probably dead.
Could this be God’s justice for her selfishness in wanting it all?
Sagging forward, she grabbed the rim of the rubbish bin. A mess, just like her life. She wanted to believe she hadn’t deliberately allowed herself to get pregnant. She’d only found out for sure with a pregnancy test taken during their layover in Miami on the way here to get Joshua.
And she hadn’t even begun to figure out how she would tell Aiden.
Persuading him to adopt had been tough enough. She never would have won the battle to have a biological child together. He had such immovable reasons for that decision, he would never change his mind. But they’d reached an understanding with the adoption. They’d done everything possible to prepare, taking into account the special needs that could come with international adoption. They had support and resources in place to guide them through.