I Will Follow You Into the Dark

CHAPTER 13

In his painful dreams, Derek walked back through the day he'd read the Peace Corps report of the tragedy. Apparently the jeep had been half-way between Esmereldas and Ibarra when it was hijacked. The best the police could discern was that the hijackers had watched the jeep pick up passengers from the yacht that had toured the Galapagos. And they assumed that they'd found rich kids to kidnap so that they could demand nice fat ransoms.




Flashback to Mark's POV:

The raiders had begun their ambush from Derek's side of the jeep. The butt of the rifle was rammed so hard into the back of Derek's head that it had made a sickening thud. Derek had been knocked unconscious by the solitary, well-placed blow, and he fell backwards out of the jeep, hitting his head again very hard on the rocky road.

Mark was looking the opposite direction when it had all begun. The jeep stopped abruptly and about the time Mark looked up front to see what was going on, he heard the horrifying sound of Derek being knocked senseless. The driver began a scuffle with one of the kidnappers, and Mark instinctively jumped from the jeep to help his friend. Ignoring their yells and even guns pointed at him, Mark examined Derek for injuries. He tried not to be shocked by all of the blood or by how pale Derek was. He knew that head injuries often looked worse than they actually were. But he couldn't wake Derek up, and that was more than a little scary.

"He needs a doctor!" Mark yelled in English, Spanish, and Quechua, the native tongue the villagers had taught him as they taught him Spanish. He yelled it over and over and got no response from the bandits. Leaving one lone gunman to watch over the Americans, the rogues focused their attention on the driver. The man pled with them as only a local could do, but it was to no avail. They dragged him off the road away from the jeep and unceremoniously shot him, killing him instantly and leaving him face down by the road.

Jumping more than a little hearing the shot and knowing what it meant, Mark decided to focus his attention on his friend. He pulled off his own shirt slowly, careful not to spook the man guarding him, and wound it as tightly as possible around his best friend's head, creating a makeshift tourniquet.

Cradling Derek's head in his lap, Mark whispered to him to hold on, to keep fighting. "We'll get out of this. We're going home. You're gonna get married. I'm going to settle down with a girlfriend. No, they haven't knocked you loopy. You heard me right. I want what you guys have. And we're going to be kick-ass doctors and stay best friends. You're my brother. You're my family. You're........all I've got," Mark said, holding his friend a little more tightly.

After they rifled through the jeep and its contents, the masked gunmen circled around Mark and Derek. Surprising him by speaking in perfect English, one man said, "Get up. Carry him." They motioned to Derek with their guns indicating that Mark should pick him up. He leaned forward the gathered his friend's crumpled form into his arms and carried him to his captors' vehicle. As they opened the door, he lay Derek down in the back seat of the military-style jeep and climbed in beside him.

They immediately blindfolded Mark and tied one of his hands to the bar on his side of the jeep. After binding Mark's and Derek's arms together in the center, they then tied Derek's other hand to the bar on his side of the jeep. They appeared to consider blindfolding Derek but opted not to do so. As the jeep began its journey, Mark grasped Derek's forearm tightly and continued to whisper to him. The words of encouragement were as much for him as for his friend, but he was determined to keep talking to Derek just in case he could hear him.

An hour later, they arrived at their destination. They untied both Mark's and Derek's outer arms and pulled them out of the jeep and into a cell. Then they left them there and locked the heavy door behind them. As they left, Mark finally found his voice again and began repeating over and over again, "He needs a doctor," alternating languages just to make sure he'd be understood.

Mark sat quietly for a while, afraid to remove his blindfold. They had to expect him to do so since they had left one of his hands free. He felt carefully around Derek to make sure he was still breathing. Finding a pulse, he breathed a bit easier. After waiting as long as he could take it, Mark finally pulled up the blindfold. He saw that he was sitting on the floor in a very small, dimly lit room beside a small cot. Derek was lying on the cot and he was still completely out.

Mark tried shaking his friend gently but he was still unable to wake him. Mark got up and walked over to the door. There were no windows in the room and the door was made of heavy steel. Not even sure they could hear him, Mark yelled a few more times, "He needs a doctor!" Then he slumped against the door and slid to the floor with his head in his hands.




And I'm not trying to be cliffy............I just have to be careful that I don't screw up this story more than I already have. Sorry!