Prism - By Rachel Moschell Page 0,81

the truck, and that was probably a good thing, because the thought of looking over and seeing Alejo covered in blood next to her was terrifying. But finally she couldn’t resist. She slowly turned her head to one side and made out a still form next to her. Very, very still.

They had left him there on his stomach, eyes staring at her in the darkness. His curly hair was wet and sticky and blood splattered over one ear and ran down his chin to pool on the wool blanket.

She shivered and turned her eyes back to the darkened ceiling, breathing deeply. The sound of her gasping breaths echoed in slow motion around the interior of the truck, slow and rasping. Then Wara’s skin crawled as she heard a low moan, and the tickle of breath across her cheek sent her scrambling into the corner, arms wrapped around her knees.

Was someone else here? The shallow breathing continued, shuddering in slow puffs of air around the truck, and Wara knew it wasn’t hers. She was holding her breath, heart in her throat. The truth came to her all of a sudden and she crashed forward onto her knees, palms spread out on Alejo’s back. His shoulder blades shifted upwards, then fell.

He was breathing.

She waited for what seemed like an eternity until Alejo’s back rose and fell again, a rasping, choking sound that sent millipedes racing up her back.

He’s still alive.

Wara threw herself down on her stomach next to Alejo and whispered, “Can you hear me?” No answer. She forced herself to feel for the wound on his head, but couldn’t find any place where blood seemed to be spurting, nowhere that she could put pressure on the stop the bleeding.

“Alejo, can you hear me? It’s Wara!”

She was confused to find that she was crying.

How could Alejo have survived that? I saw him shot point-blank in the head!

She had to tell the guys up front. Alejo needed a hospital.

Wara paused, imagining herself kicking the wall of the truck’s cab like a madwoman to get Gabriel’s attention.

Stalin doesn’t know I’m alive back here, and I don’t know how badly he wants me dead. And if either of them finds out Alejo is alive, they could come back here and just finish the job.

Sweat pricked Wara’s armpits. The vehicle spun to a skidding stop and two doors slammed. Wara braced herself next to Alejo, waiting like a deer caught in the headlights for the truck doors to open.

Time was up for any kind of decision; they were coming back here.

A scraping of metal, then the truck filled with shafts of light, filtered through shadowy eucalyptus branches waving over the truck outside. Wara saw that they were stopped near the side of the road, still in the countryside. The two guys peered into the truck, expressions grim.

“He’s still alive!” Wara blurted out, holding out a hand towards Alejo and realizing it was smeared with blood. She scrubbed her hand frantically on her black pants. “He’s your friend! Take him to the hospital. There’s still time!”

Gabriel regarded Alejo with pinched lips; Stalin’s mouth gaped open, taking in first Alejo lying there, then Wara next to him.

“I told Stalin that you were back here,” Gabriel clipped. “He’s a nice guy anyway, kind of a pushover. I thought maybe he would help me. He noticed that Alejo was still alive on the ground at Pairumani.”

“Thank God he’s still…we’ve got to hurry, Wara.” Stalin’s voice was heavy. “We’re taking him to Univalle Hospital—it’s close to the lake where we’re supposedly leaving him, and then the Khan is waiting for us at the airport. We’ve got to hurry, or he’ll suspect. And it’ll be too late.” Stalin blanched and turned away from the sight of his friend covered in blood.

“Wara.” Gabriel snapped his long fingers, calling her attention back. “When we get to Univalle, we can’t stay. We’re going to drop him and you and get away as fast as we can. You’ve got to run, ok? Invent something to tell the doctors, but don’t tell them the truth. If you tell anyone about us, the authorities and media will find out. And if they find out, the Khan and everyone else will know you and Alejo are not dead. You understand.”

Gabriel had been speaking quickly but concisely. He suddenly slowed down and his shoulder sagged. “Please help him. He did this for you.” Gabriel waved his hand unsteadily at Alejo’s lifeless form, then looked back at Wara once more with