Page 35 of Doc
“Bad enough.”I did a quick assessment.The joint was already swelling.I’d have to take a closer look later.“Pretty sure it’s a sprain, not a break.We’ll need to ice it when we’re safe.”
The sound of distant sirens cut through the night.The guard’s backup had arrived.
“We need to go,” Nova said, urgency overriding the pain in her voice.
I helped her onto the motorcycle, acutely aware of her wince as she swung her injured leg over the seat.“Hold tight.And stay low.We’re going to take the farm roads, avoid the main highways.”
Nova pressed herself against my back, her arms circling my waist with more confidence than before.Her front molded to my back, her thighs gripping the outside of mine as I guided the bike away from the curb.Despite the danger, despite the sirens growing louder in the distance, I was intensely aware of her body against mine, the trust implicit in the way she held on.
I kept the headlight off for the first few blocks, navigating by moonlight and memory until we reached the outskirts of town.Only then did I switch on the light, accelerating onto the narrow country road that would take us away from pursuit and, hopefully, toward safety.
Nova’s arms tightened around my waist, her face pressed between my shoulder blades.I could feel her trembling -- from cold, from adrenaline, from pain, I couldn’t tell.Probably all three.But she never asked to stop, never complained.Her grip remained steady as we raced through the darkness, the evidence that could bring down an entire trafficking ring secured between us.
The wind whipped past us, carrying away the sound of sirens until there was nothing but the rumble of the engine.For now, at least, we’d escaped.But the night was far from over.
* * *
The abandoned barn loomed against the night sky, its weathered silhouette a stroke of luck in miles of empty farmland.I’d spotted it from the road, half-hidden behind overgrown brush and a stand of maple trees.Perfect for our needs -- isolated, sheltered, unlikely to attract attention.Nova remained quiet, her arms around my waist loosening as exhaustion and pain took their toll.I guided the motorcycle down a rutted dirt path, feeling her stir against my back as we approached our temporary sanctuary.
“Where are we?”Her voice sounded thick with fatigue.
“Somewhere safe.”I stopped the bike beside the barn’s side door.“For now, at least.”
I helped her off the motorcycle, supporting her weight as she balanced on her good foot.The door creaked as I shouldered it open, revealing a cavernous space thick with dust and the sweet smell of old hay.Moonlight filtered through the gaps in the roof, casting silver stripes across the dirt floor.Farm equipment long abandoned created shadowy shapes in the corners.
“Wait here.”I eased Nova down onto a wooden crate just inside the door.“Let me check it out first.”
She nodded, clutching her messenger bag against her chest, the evidence we’d risked everything to obtain secured inside.I moved through the barn, tactical flashlight in hand, checking for any signs of recent occupation or potential threats.Finding none, I returned to Nova, whose face had gone pale with pain in the harsh beam of my light.
“All clear.Let’s get you settled so I can look at that ankle.”
I found a relatively clean spot near the back of the barn where someone had once stored hay bales.A few remained, dry and musty but usable.I arranged them into a makeshift seat, then helped Nova limp over, supporting her waist.The small sounds of pain she tried to suppress with each step twisted something in my chest.
“This’ll do for now.”I settled her on the hay bales.“How’s the pain?Scale of one to ten?”
“Four.”She caught my skeptical look.“Fine.Seven.Maybe eight when I put weight on it.”
I kneeled before her, opening my medical bag.“Let me see.”
Nova extended her leg.I unlaced the boot carefully, easing it off then rolled down her sock.The skin underneath was already mottled with bruising.Clinical detachment warred with a more personal concern as I examined the swelling joint.
“Definitely a sprain.”I probed the area with practiced fingers.“Grade two, possibly.You’re lucky it’s not broken.”
“Doesn’t feel lucky.”
I rummaged in my medical bag, producing an instant cold pack, an elastic bandage, and a bottle of ibuprofen.“Luck is relative in our situation.At least I can treat this.”
Nova watched as I cracked the cold pack and wrapped it around her ankle, her gaze never leaving my hands.“I know you’re a doctor, but this seems more…”
“Field medicine.Army taught me to work with what I have.Improvise when necessary.”I handed her the ibuprofen and a bottle of water from my bag.“Take three.It’ll help with the swelling and pain.”
She obeyed and swallowed the pills without complaint.Flashlight beams caught her face, drawn with exhaustion.She pointed to her messenger bag.“We should look at what we found.Make sure it was worth it.”
I nodded, helping her shift to create a flat surface on a nearby workbench.She pulled out the files we’d taken from the county clerk’s office, spreading them carefully across the dusty wood.I added the flash drive, setting it beside the documents like a period at the end of a damning sentence.
“These financial records are just the beginning.”She pointed to a page filled with Mary-Jane’s tight handwriting.“Mom tracked the payments, the missing girls, the court cases.All she needed were the official records to prove it.”
“Records she was killed for trying to access,” I mumbled.
