Chapter 22

Shuffling through the searing sand, the tender flesh between my toes protested against the hot granules grinding in. Wiping the beads of sweat from my brow, I pushed my reluctant body forward through the arid desert.

Ripples of heat waves danced in front of me as though seducing me into the fire. A relentless sun glared down from a cloudless blue sky.

Trudging past a large, fleshy cactus, a speckled salamander skittered from the base, startled from his meager shade.

Water.

I would’ve sold my soul for even one drop. Even the most important things in life become second when faced with a scorching ocean of sand.

She needs water.

Caressing my swollen belly, I felt the tiny life inside of me cry for rehydration.

Thankfully, in dreams, time moves much more swiftly than in reality.

Swallowed by a mountainous cliff in the distance, the sun released its tyrannical hold on the Sedona desert for the day. Oranges, yellows and reds settled into the horizon like a fiery rainbow.

My white nightgown, drenched with sweat from the heat of the day, betrayed me as it absorbed the cool night air. Shivering, I scanned the darkening landscape for shelter. As with every dream, I see a shimmer of light in the distance. Beckoning me with its seductive warmth, I am captive to the call like a moth to a flame.

Entering the mouth of the cave, I’m immediately drawn to the symbols adorning the walls.

II. Roman numeral two.

Come, rest by the fire.

A familiar voice urges me. My eyes dart around the secluded cave, searching for the owner.

She is coming. It whispers like a distant prayer driven by the wind.

“Who?” My voice sounds hollow as it reverberates within the large cavern.

Instantaneously, as though my word was a trigger, a sharp pain tears through my belly. Lying down on the cave floor, I pant as I feel my child moving out of my womb.

Screaming, the dream ends, as it always has, in a blinding flash of white light.

Sitting straight up on the white cot, my breath came in short, uncontrolled spurts.

Coughing, I fought to regain rhythm. Pulling the thin, white sheet off of the cot and wrapping it around myself, I realized my teeth were chattering. My bones and muscles ached like I’d run ten miles the day before and my stomach churned with irritation. Nausea overwhelmed me, forcing me to run for the toilet a couple feet away. Clinging to the sides of the bowl, I wretched violently.

Shaking and sweating, I waited to see if I was done. Since it was the first time in my life I’d ever thrown up, I was overwhelmed with the sensations of illness. My head spun and my body quaked with shivers as I crawled back to the cot.

Curling up on the tiny bed, I closed my eyes and sighed. My plan of escape was going to have to wait.

***

“I’m not sure, but it looks like she has an internal infection.” The medic stood over me holding his stethoscope in his hand. “She’ll need an aggressive round of antibiotics.”

“Will it hurt the baby?” Agent Evans’ voice was gruff as he asked, his arms folded across his chest.

“No, it shouldn’t.” The medic sounded nonchalant as he packed up his stethoscope and other instruments into a silver suitcase. Lying on the cot, I felt myself nod off as the two men discussed my condition.

“Shouldn’t! We need to know for sure!” Agent Evans’ voice startled me from my brief nap. Opening my eyes to a mere sliver, I looked at his face and it was wrought with concern. I would have preferred he be worried for me but instinct told me that his sights were set elsewhere.

“Sir.” The medic began, obviously shaken from the verbal outburst. “Even though she has human anatomy, we can’t know for certain what reactions she or the baby might have.”

Agent Evans paused for a moment, then replied. “Do it, do whatever you have to save the baby.”