They got into the vehicle again, David keeping the drone airborne and about one klick ahead of them, watching the sides of the road for anyone lying in wait.
But Malik’s mind was on Kristi. “We need to move quickly now. It’s possible that someone in the village will warn the assholes about us next time they’re around.”
“This is true. Look!” He pointed at the drone’s view screen. “There are patas monkeys running through that field.”
By the time they got back to Kaduna, it was almost midnight, the drone sitting in the back, still in one piece, its battery spent.
“Thanks for your help today, David.” Malik would give credit where it was due. “I’ll put together a strategy in the morning and get out of your way.”
“Wewill make a plan.” He motioned to the backseat. “Leave this drone with me when you leave Nigeria with Kristi, and I will consider it payment.”
“I’ve got cash if you want cash.”
David didn’t look impressed. “How much?”
“Ten grand.”
David laughed. “That’s chicken change. Give me the drone, and we have a deal.”
Tower wouldn’t like this.
“Done.”
* * *
Kristi wokefrom a dreamless sleep early the next morning. Jidda and the others were still asleep, dawn’s first light coming through the open doorway. She combed her hair with her fingers, men’s voices and the scent of wood smoke telling her the camp was waking. At least no one had touched her last night. She’d gotten a little sleep.
Thirsty and hungry, she sat quietly, waiting for Jidda to wake so she could check his wound. She hoped to be able to suture it today or tomorrow. And then…
What would happen to her?
I think you are too valuable for me to let you go.
He hadn’t brought it up again. They’d spent last night gorging on roasted duiker and had barely noticed her, full stomachs leaving them relaxed and sleepy.
She’d thought about trying to escape, but where would she go? She had no idea which direction to go to reach help. They had the vehicle and could easily catch up. In her blue scrubs, she wouldn’t exactly blend into the landscape. If she ran and they caught her, they would make her pay.
What should she say if Jidda brought it up again? What would she do if he tried to get physical with her? Would she rebuff him and risk losing his protection?
It came down to how much she was prepared to endure to survive.
She had a clinical understanding of her situation. She’d taken care of Nigerian women and girls who’d survived captivity, most of them enduring rape and other kinds of brutality. She’d listened to them tell their stories, reassured them that their lives still had value, taken care of their bruised and battered bodies.
But, God, she’d never imagined she’d find herself in their shoes.
How hollow her words sounded now—and how incredibly brave those women were. They had endured the unspeakable, some of them for years, in the hope that they would survive long enough to escape or be rescued. As long as there was hope that she would be rescued and return to her own world, that’s what Kristi would have to do, too.
But that didn’t mean she couldn’t use what little power she had to her advantage.
It wasn’t long before the men awoke, one by one rolling up their bed mats and heading out of the hut.
“How do you feel this morning, Jidda?” She sat near his feet to check his wound, careful to stay out of reach of his hands.
“Better.” He watched as she removed the bandage. “It is healing.”
“Yes, it is. I think I can suture it tomorrow. But now it’s time for your antibiotics.” She reached into the duffel, took out the medications.
“We spoke about you last night.”