Page 33 of Risk It All
“Maybe Dr. Knowles is looking for us.”
“Maybe.” I'm still not sure, but I know we can't sit in the jungle all day. I walk toward the road with Max close behind as the van draws closer and I recognize the driver.
“It's Henri.” Relief floods my body.
The van screeches to a halt.
“Hurry,” Henri calls through an open window.
Max opens the side door to the van, pushes me in, and then jumps in behind me. The van is moving before he gets the door closed.
“We were frantic about you,” Henri says, tossing a bottle of water back toward us.
“Have you seen Bastu?” I ask, opening the water and taking a long swig. I hand the bottle to Max, who swallows a large gulp.
“He walked into town late last night and told us what happened.”
“Is he okay?” He’s alive at least, but he could still be hurt.
“He was hurt. Grazed by a bullet, but he'll live.”
I sigh with relief. “Thank goodness.”
“Where are we going?” Max asks. “Isn't the hospital back the other way?”
“We're going to Abuja. The poachers came to town, to the hospital, looking for you.”
“Oh, no. They didn't hurt anyone, did they?” The last thing I want is to put Dr. Knowles, his staff, and the patients in danger.
“No. They told Dr. Knowles about the passes so he explained you were lovers wanting time alone.”
“Did they buy it?” Max asks.
“They left, but Dr. Knowles thought it best if you didn't return. I've been driving back and forth for hours looking for you.”
“I didn't even think to make sure I hadn't lost my passport.” Max pats his belly feeling for the hidden pouch holding his documents under his shirt.
I pat mine too. “I've got mine. I guess that means we're going home.”
“It is best,” Henri says.
I don’t admit it out loud, but I'm relieved. When I look at Max, though, he looks disappointed. I reach out to touch his shoulder. “Are you alright?”
“The worst thing an adult can do is disappoint a child . . . well, it's not the worst thing, but it's bad.”
My brows knit together in confusion.
“We promised Chisara we'd see her tonight. I told her I'd get some pictures of the Redwoods.”
My heart aches as I wonder how many adults disappointed a young Max Delecoeur. “We didn't promise. And if anyone would understand, it's Chisara.”
He blows out a breath. “Maybe there's another way. There's the Internet, sort of. Maybe I can call her.”
I smile, knowing that Max will come through for her and all the children. “If there's another way, I'm sure you'll find it.”
“Uh-oh,” Henri says, slowing the van down.
“What?” I look between the front seats out the window to see several men with large guns standing in the road. I duck down behind Henri’s seat to avoid being seen. “Who are they?”
