Angel of Hope Page 11

  Bile rose in her throat. Maybe he wouldn’t see her. Maybe he’d pass right by and never look down. She scrunched lower without taking her eyes off him. But he did look down. For an instant their gazes locked. His rifle came up. And in that split second Amber knew what she had to do. She ran.

  “Simama! Simama!” he shouted.

  She didn’t know what he’d said. She didn’t care. She only knew she had to lead him away from her sleeping friends. She scrambled up the embankment, oblivious of the sharp stones and dead branches that scraped and cut her hands and feet.

  She heard the crack of the rifle, and a bullet whizzed past her head. She dove over the top of the gully and dropped, crawling on all fours to the trunk of a tree, panting for breath. She heard him crashing behind her through the undergrowth. A second bullet fired, scraping bark off the trunk.

  Terror tore at her insides. I’m going to die! He was going to kill her, shoot her to death when she could very well be a day’s walk from safety. But if he killed her, it would be better than if he captured her. She was sure of that much. She wanted to get away but didn’t know how. She wanted to hide but didn’t know where. She wanted Boyce.

  Another soldier materialized, then another. The woods were swarming with them. She’d foolishly fallen into a nest of hostile soldiers.

  She saw two armed men coming straight toward her and struggled to cover herself under a heap of dead leaves. She lay flat, her face buried in a pile of moldy, rotting leaves, eyes shut tight, gasping like a cornered animal. She had nowhere to turn, no one to rescue her. They would kill her. Or worse.

  A harsh male voice boomed down at her in a language she did not understand. Yet she knew the tone. It told her, Get up. I’ve got you. She heard the sound of a gun being cocked.

  Amber sucked in her breath, opened her eyes, and saw the dark curved tops of military boots directly in front of her nose. If you’re real, God, help me. The toe of the boot moved the rotting leaves around her face.

  Time seemed to slow. “ ‘Fear not. I am with you. I will help you.’ ” She heard Boyce’s voice as clearly as if he’d been next to her. Defying all reason, a steely calm came over her. She gritted her teeth with determination. No matter what happened to her, she’d make them believe she was alone. And she wasn’t going to die like some trapped, cowering animal, either. She raised one hand, reached inside her shirt with the other, and very slowly pulled out her American passport, still hanging on a dirty string tied around her neck. With both hands above her head, she held the booklet emblazoned with the American eagle aloft and staggered upright. She raised her eyes and stared up the long black barrel of the rifle.

  “Rafiki.” Amber used the only word of Swahili that came to her mind. “Me, rafiki.”

  17

  "You are American?” the soldier asked in English.

  “Yes,” Amber said. The sound of her own heart pounded in her ears.

  “But what are you doing in the bush?”

  “I’m lost. I’m trying to get back to Uganda.”

  The soldier lowered his rifle. “But you are in Uganda.”

  “I am?” They had crossed the border and not known it. Tears welled in Amber’s eyes.

  “Are you the lost lady from Lwereo?”

  She nodded, overcome with emotion.

  “Where are your friends?”

  She hesitated.

  “We have been looking for you for many days, lady. You all must be very tired.”

  “Very tired,” she echoed.

  A grin split his face. “Welcome to Uganda.”

  Amber and her friends rode all the way into Kampala in a military convoy made up of Jeeps and two trucks full of Ugandan soldiers. The men made a great fuss over them, gave them food and water, and lavished candy on Rosemary, who’d tucked herself shyly under Ruth’s arm. Against all odds, Amber fell asleep in the back of the truck, her head resting in Boyce’s lap.

  Once they arrived in the city, they were taken to the hospital, where a medical team checked them over and pronounced them dehydrated but in good condition considering their ordeal. Amber’s cuts and scrapes were thoroughly cleaned and slathered with antibiotic ointment. She was also given a tetanus shot. When she got on the scale, she was shocked to see that she’d lost twelve pounds. “However, I don’t recommend it as a weight-loss program,” she told the nurse, who nodded in agreement. Amber also learned that her mother had returned to the Children’s Home to await word from the soldiers who’d been sent out to search.

  At the American Embassy, the five of them were greeted by photographers and news-people. Amber felt overjoyed to be safe again, alarmed when she heard that their nighttime escape from invading marauders had captured world attention. That meant that everyone in Miami knew what had happened. There really would be no glossing it over to her parents.

  “Almost a week in the bush—how did you do it?” one reporter asked.

  Boyce told them that God had watched over them, protected them, and given them strength every day. But he also told them he’d once been a Boy Scout and had remembered his training. Patrick and Ruth had both been raised in the bush, so they too had survival skills. Only Amber felt as if she’d contributed nothing to the group’s overall welfare.

  When the session broke up, Ruth asked a reporter, “Can you tell us what happened to the village?”

  “It defended itself bravely,” he answered. “They had a stash of firearms the rebels weren’t expecting. Rwandan military showed up the next day. Turned out they’d been trailing the rebels for weeks. These guys had already killed some tourists on safari, burned and looted a couple of smaller villages.”

  “How many deaths?”

  “There were fifteen casualties, most of them on the rebel side.”

  “Do you have a list of the dead villagers?”

  He handed her an Ugandan paper and she skimmed the article with a worried gaze while Patrick held her hand. Amber held her breath. Finally Ruth looked up with a trembling smile. “None of my family are on the list.”

  An embassy spokesperson arranged for a van to take them to Lwereo the following morning. “But first, a hot bath and clean clothes,” he said. “We’ve made arrangements for you to stay the night at the Hilton.”

  By the time they reached the hotel it was almost nine in the evening, and Amber was dizzy with fatigue. “I don’t know how I’ll sleep tonight without you guys around,” she told Boyce in the hall, while Ruth and Rosemary took the first showers. The girls had been given a sumptuous suite, Boyce and Patrick another down the hall.

  “And I don’t know how I’ll fall asleep in a soft bed instead of on the hard ground.”

  “Well,” she said thoughtfully, “I did want to talk to you about something.”

  “What now? You’ve got that look on your face.”

  “What look?”

  “The one that tells me you’re cooking up some wild plan.”

  “Not too wild. I’m too tired to think too wild. But I do I have an idea.”

  “Go on.”

  “First I’m going to take the longest hot bath on record. Then I’d like to bring myself and Rosemary to your room and put Patrick in our room with Ruth. They—um—never had that honeymoon night, you know.”

  An impish grin lit Boyce’s face. “You’ll give up your cushy bed for Patrick and Ruth?”

  “No . . . you’ll give up yours for me and Rosemary. Don’t worry, we’ll pitch you a pillow on the floor.”

  Boyce laughed. “I never guessed you were such a romantic.”

  “They deserve it, don’t you think?”

  “What I think is that you’re pretty special.” He drew her closer.

  “Careful . . . I smell like the bottom of a compost heap.”

  Boyce shook his head and raised her chin with his forefinger. “I don’t care.”

  Her breath caught as she realized he intended to kiss her. Her knees went weak, and her pulse quickened. “Um—can this wait until I’m more presentable?”

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nbsp; “No way.” His mouth hovered above hers. “But I’ll make you a promise: Once you are presentable, count on it happening again.”

  The following morning Amber, Rosemary, and Boyce went to the hotel restaurant for breakfast. “I told Patrick and Ruth to meet us here. But I told them not to hurry,” Boyce said. His suggestive grin made Amber blush.

  “No hurry for me,” Amber said. “I only have to face my mother today. Come on, Rosemary, let’s go check out the buffet.”

  The child had been given a new pair of crutches at the hospital, and she hobbled to the long table set with a banquet of food. Her eyes grew round. “Who is coming to eat with us?”

  “Just the people in the hotel. What would you like?” Amber picked up a plate.

  “Not the whole city of Kampala? There’s enough for everyone, I think.”

  The realization that Rosemary had never seen so much abundance in her brief lifetime moved Amber. “Well, right now, there’s only us, so let’s try a few of my favorite things and see how you like them.” She took another plate and proceeded to pile both with every kind of fruit on the table. Next she loaded up on scrambled eggs, rice, pancakes in warm syrup, bacon, ham, cheese and hash browns.

  When she set the plates on the table, Boyce looked startled. “Did you leave any for me?”

  “It’s every man for himself,” Amber said. She cut up the meat for Rosemary. “Try this.” With much satisfaction, she watched Rosemary eat heartily.

  “My turn,” Boyce said, scooting out of the booth.

  When Boyce returned, Amber asked him, “Do you realize this is the very same place Heather rested with baby Alice when she brought her out of Sudan?”

  “I guess it is. Small world.”

  “It gives me a spooky feeling. Like we’re both tied to this place somehow.”

  “It’s possible.”

  Amber shook her head. “I hope not. Once I get home, I’m never leaving again.”

  “Heather couldn’t wait to get back.”

  “I told you, my sister and I are different people. We want different things.”

  “You’re not eating much.” Boyce changed the subject.

  She shoved her plate aside. “I dreamed of food when we were out in the bush. Now I’m not really hungry. I guess my stomach’s shrunk.”

  “You’re nervous about facing your mother, aren’t you?”

  Of course he’d figured it out. Amber said, “She’s going to chew me out for taking off in the first place.”

  “She knew you were going. No one could have predicted the raid on the village.”

  “Yes, but I may have led her to think there were more people going than just the four of us.”

  “Well, if it will help, I’ll tell her you were the hero that got us rescued. I’ll tell her your bravery to go exploring by yourself made the difference.”

  She heard recrimination in his tone and knew it was justified. She’d put herself in life-threatening danger by wandering off on her own. “What you’re saying is that if I’d stayed put, we’d still have been found, and I might not have gotten shot at and scared half out of my head.”

  “It gives me chills to think that you came so closed to being killed,” he confessed. “But we can’t go back and redo things, Amber. It worked out. Thank God you’re alive.”

  She drummed her fingers on the table, then decided to tell him everything. “I prayed, you know. When I thought I was going to die, I asked God to help me. Inside my head, I heard you telling me not to be afraid, and suddenly I wasn’t.”

  He put down his fork. “God’s going to make a believer out of you yet.”

  “I think he already has. I just can’t figure out why he’s bothering with me.”

  “Maybe God’s saved you to do something special for him.”

  His interpretation startled her, but before she could discuss it, Patrick and Ruth walked into the dining room. Amber jumped up and ran to them. “You two look wonderful!” she cried, hugging them both.

  “We feel wonderful,” Patrick said with a laugh.

  Amber glanced anxiously at Ruth, wondering if she’d done the right thing by suggesting that they spend the night alone together. What if Ruth had not been ready? “Get the buffet. Rosemary and Boyce are already chowing down.”

  Patrick kissed Ruth’s cheek, then went to join Boyce, who’d returned to the buffet line when Amber had abruptly left the table. Amber hung back. She took Ruth’s hand. “I—I have to see for myself that you’re all right.”

  Ruth offered a beautiful smile. “I am a wife now in every way. There were no bad memories to hurt me, only the love of my husband to heal me.”

  Tears brimmed in Amber’s eyes. “I’m happy for you both.”

  Ruth hooked her arm through Amber’s. “Now, let us eat. Does this buffet have any roasted goat? I hardly got to taste it on my wedding day, you know.”

  It was afternoon when the van pulled into the town of Lwereo. Amber licked her lips nervously. Soon she’d be facing her mother’s wrath. Soon she’d know all about Heather. She couldn’t have one without the other.

  Boyce put his hand on Amber’s shoulder. “Remember, I’m here beside you.”

  “Thanks,” she said gratefully.

  But when the van pulled through the gates of the compound, Amber couldn’t believe her eyes. Throngs of cheering, waving people lined both sides of the dirt road, waving yellow ribbons. Every child, every family unit member, every worker on the irrigation project, even workers from the hospital had turned out to welcome them. Patrick and Ruth leaned out the windows and clasped hands with their friends. Boyce gave a high five to everyone he could touch. Rosemary stared at the crowd in awe.

  The van slowed to a crawl and stopped in front of Paul and Jodene, standing out in their front yard. Their three sons pulled open the doors and, like overeager puppies, hurled themselves across the passengers’ laps.

  “We saw you on the news,” Samuel, the youngest, yelled.

  “Amber’s mother bought us a TV!” Dennis shouted.

  “And Dad turned on the generator so we could watch,” Kevin finished.

  Amber only half heard them. She was looking out at her mother, who stood off to the side, tears streaming down her cheeks. Suddenly Amber was crying too, apprehension over their reunion vanished. She jumped out of the van and ran into her mother’s open arms.

  “Oh, dear God, I thought I’d lost you,” her mother sobbed.

  Amber was crying so hard, she was shaking. “Mom . . . I—I’m sorry—”

  “You’re safe. That’s all I care about. I was so worried, so scared.” Her mother kissed her and hugged her until it hurt. “I don’t know what I’d’ve done if . . .” She didn’t finish the sentence.

  “It’s over, Mom. We made it out and it’s over.”

  Her mother held her at arm’s length. “No, it isn’t. We’ve got to catch the first plane out of here.”

  Amber’s heart constricted. Her mother’s eyes changed from relief at seeing Amber to worried pools of grief. “What’s wrong?” Amber asked urgently.

  “Heather’s critical.”

  18

  "You want some magazines for the trip?” Amber’s mother asked. They stood in front of a newsstand inside London’s Gatwick Airport, looking at its display of international newspapers. YOUTHS SURVIVE ORDEAL IN AFRICAN BUSH, USA Today declared in bold lettering. “Apparently you’ve made the news in seven languages.”

  “Do I care?” Amber said. She could hardly believe that the headline referred in part to her. All she cared about at the moment was getting home. She and her mother had packed and left Uganda in two days, boarding the already sold-out airplane to London via special arrangement by the American Embassy.

  Amber had talked to her father on the satellite cell phone the night they returned to Lwereo. “How’s Heather?” had been Amber’s first words.

  “Not good. How are you?” She heard so much emotion in his voice that she almost dissolved into a puddle of tears.


  “I’m all right, Daddy . . . just a few cuts and bruises. Can I talk to Heather?”

  “She’s in ICU, and in isolation. She’s very weak.”

  “Tell her I’m coming. Tell her to hold on till I get there.”

  “She’s trying, baby. She’s really trying.”

  “A good book might keep your mind busy.” Her mother tried again to interest Amber in something from the newsstand.

  “No, Mom. I’m going to try to sleep on the plane.” The long flight stretched ahead like an eternity.

  Her mother sighed wearily. “Me too. I sure didn’t get much sleep when I was in Africa, and I’m sure we won’t be getting much in Miami.”

  “It feels weird to be back in civilization,” Amber said. In the crowded London terminal, she felt claustrophobic. The pressing crush of bodies was a far cry from the lonely, sweeping landscape of Africa. Cell phones rang, announcements crackled in several languages over the PA system, luggage on clattering wheels was pulled past them. Amber almost clamped her hands over her ears to shut out the racket.

  “I felt the same way when I returned from my stint in the Peace Corps. A person gets used to all that quiet. Noise . . . it’s one of the trade-offs for our modern lifestyle.” Her mother paid for several newsmagazines. “Come on, they’re boarding our flight.”

  They went to the gate and stood in line. Amber already missed her friends, unable to forget their tearful goodbyes at the Children’s Home.

  “Please let us know about Heather,” Jodene had pleaded. “Tell her we’re all praying for her. She can lick this thing. I know she can.”

  Patrick and Ruth had wept openly and without shame. “I will not forget you,” Ruth said. “You have done so much for us, as well as for Rosemary. So much has happened. I wish that you could stay, but I know you need to go to your own family. Rafiki—girlfriend.”