Page 47 of The Hero
That was the last thing Bob remembered before he passed out.
Marlowe paced the room. It was small, only large enough for her to take about five steps from wall to wall. She’d known Kendric was hurting, but wasn’t aware of exactly how bad things had gotten. He’d hidden his pain well. Even though she’d seen his wounds two days ago, he hadn’t let her clean them since. When he’d passed out, and she’d lifted his shirt to see how bad the damage had become, she’d almost fainted herself.
The gouges in his flesh were a mottled green, enflamed red around the edges, and leaking pus. And they smelled awful. His skin was hot to the touch and puffy from the infection. He needed medical assistance immediately, but she had no idea how to provide it without one or both of them getting arrested.
Panic set in as she paced. She didn’t think about how close she was to getting home; all she could think about was the man she loved lying on the floor. He’d gotten them all the way to the airport, and now she seriously wondered if he was going to die. His breathing was fast and shallow, and she was scared to death that she was going to lose him.
She had no idea how to get in touch with his contact, Willis. Kendric had stopped along their journey, using pay phones and payingshopkeepers to use their personal cells, but he hadn’t shared the man’s number. She’d dug out his wallet and knew they were out of money. She had no idea how he’d planned to get a hold of Willis to arrange for their passports and flights, but it didn’t matter. He was in no shape to do anything more than lie on the floor at the moment.
Marlowe chewed on her thumbnail and thought over the last four days. How he’d gotten hurt climbing under that fence, then carried her through that foul-smelling canal. She’d stayed dry, but the feces-filled water had obviously gotten into his wounds. When they were in the barn, he’d lain on his back on the bare straw so she’d touch it as little as possible. Again, more germs had probably infected the wounds then.
They’d festered as they’d journeyed south—and he hadn’t said a word about it. Probably because he didn’t want her to worry. Well, fat lot of good that did. She was worried now. Petrified, in fact.
And she had to do something. But what? She had no money, no identification. Didn’t speak the language. She was a damn fugitive.
Every now and then, Kendric would moan or mumble, but otherwise he was totally out of it. It was terrifying, and Marlowe knew she had to get help for him. She had nothing of value that she could use to barter with someone to use their phone. All she had was the clothes on her back. Literally.
Kendric moaned again, and she stopped pacing to study him.
A plan formed in her mind. She hated to do it, but she literally had no choice.
She knelt next to him on the floor and reached for his arm. She quickly unfastened the fancy watch he was wearing, which they’d used to get them through Thailand and Cambodia. It had a GPS and a compass ... and she hoped Kendric wouldn’t be too upset with her for taking it to barter for use of a phone.
Feeling sick inside, and worried about Kendric, and nervous about going out by herself, Marlowe took a deep breath. She had to do it. She was literally the only one who could help him. It was very likely he’d die of sepsis if he didn’t get antibiotics and fluids.
“I’ll be back really soon,” she told Kendric.
He didn’t move.
“You got us this far, and I’ll get you the rest of the way home. You’re going to be fine, hear me, Kendric?”
Again, he didn’t answer. Marlowe couldn’t help but think back to a few days ago when he’d seemed so strong and larger than life. When he’d made love to her. When he’d made her feel beautiful for the first time in years.
She’d do anything to make sure her rescue didn’t end in his death.
Her resolve strengthened, Marlowe leaned down and kissed him on the forehead before standing and heading for the door. She opened it and looked back one last time. Kendric was breathing way too fast, and she hated how vulnerable he looked lying there on the floor. Taking a deep breath, she turned and headed out to get him some help.
An hour later, she was hot, sweaty, frustrated, and as nervous as she’d ever been in her life.
The shop where she and Kendric were hiding was her first bust, followed by countless others. But she’d finally found a business owner near the airport who was willing to let her make a long-distance call on his shop phone, in exchange for Kendric’s watch. She was never so glad that Kendric had made her memorize the phone number of his business as she was right that second.
She wasn’t sure of the time difference, but figured it had to be about the same as it was when she was on the dig site in Thailand. Maine would be around eleven hours earlier than it was here ... she hoped. Because that meant someone should be in the office. She carefully dialed the number, 555-824-8733, and held her breath.
“Hello, Jack’s Lumber. How can I help you?”
For a moment, Marlowe was so relieved that someone answered, she couldn’t even speak.
“Hello?”
“Hi, sorry! I’m here!” Marlowe blurted. “I’m calling for Chappy, Cal, or JJ. Please, it’s an emergency.”
“I’m April, their assistant,” the woman on the other end of the phone said. “Can I ask who’s calling?”
This was it. It was almost surreal to be talking to April, a woman who Kendric had talked about a lot. Someone he admired, and who he and his friends relied on.
“My name is Marlowe Kennedy, and I’m in Cambodia with Kendric Evans. He needs help, bad, and he made me memorize this phone number just in case, and I really need to talk to one of his friends.”
To April’s credit, she didn’t ask questions that would waste more time. She simply said, “Hold on, please,” then apparently put the phone against her chest or something—and yelled extremely loudly for her employers.
