refolding the sheet of green paper. By now, several of the adults had joined the circle to see what she was doing. Two front legs emerged from the diamond-shaped folded paper, then two back legs. She held up the frog’s body so everyone could see it, then gently blew up the main body of the small figure.
Giggles erupted from the group as she handed the frog to one of the little boys.
“You’re good.” Nick, who’d hung back beside her while the others stood talking, laughed. “Good enough to think about changing careers if you ever get tired of the medical side.”
“I’ll have to think about that.” She glanced up at him, taken in by the toffee-brown eyes that conveyed a sense of calm she needed at the moment. “I have to admit that all this is overwhelming.”
Nick held out his hand and one of the little girls grasped his fingers and grinned up at him. “Yes, but that’s why you’re here. And I’m already convinced that there’s a certain doctor standing beside me who can handle the task ahead. All you have to worry about is one person at a time.”
One person at a time.
Paige drew in a deep breath. She could do this.
“Dr. Ryan?” Taz walked back to her. The carefree smile he’d worn earlier had vanished.
Paige pressed her shoulders back. “What’s wrong?”
“We have a potential problem on our hands. The truck that’s on its way here with fuel for the boreholes is stuck in the mud five kilometers down the road. There’s already a crowd trying to take advantage of the situation and siphon the fuel.”
Paige put her hand up to block the sun and gazed down the empty road. Digane might have put her in charge, but she wasn’t ready for them to look to her for answers. From the short briefing she’d received before she left, she knew that the road leading from the camp was lightly populated. It wouldn’t take long before word spread, and if the rebels got their hands on that fuel, the situation could quickly spiral out of control. It could take days before another truck arrived. Which meant they had to act fast.
“We need that fuel.” She looked Taz in the eye. “Have the rest of the supplies unloaded from the plane. And in the meantime, we’ll need a car and a driver to assess the situation.”
Taz nodded. “Give me five minutes.”
NINE
MONDAY, FEBRUARY 21, 3:52 P.M.
KINGANI ROAD
Samson held onto the hand of his son, Asim, who tried to pull him toward the open market lining the opposite side of the road. Women sat on the ground beneath the blistering afternoon sun with their piles of tomatoes and onions in front of them. Behind them, dozens more vendors displayed fish, bowls of rice and sugar, and other wares on rickety tables, where they’d barter with customers until the moon rose high against the black sky.
Asim tugged harder. “I’m hungry.”
“Not now. There is no time to stop, Asim.”
Samson caught the sting he’d inflicted in his son’s eyes and wished he could take back his sharp reply. He stepped over a deep rut slicing the dirt road. A week ago he would have pulled a coin from his pocket and given it to Asim to buy a treat from one of the vendors, even though Valina always reprimanded him for spoiling the child. He glanced down at his son’s wide brown eyes and dark, curly hair and replayed the moment, six years ago, when he’d been told his wife had given birth to a son. After three girls, the appearance of a son had filled him with pride. And, at that time, had renewed his hope that the ancestors still smiled on him.
But today his pockets were empty. He had no money to buy a handful of dried fish and sauce from one of the plump mamas minding her stall, let alone purchase a small piece of candy for his son.
He maneuvered Asim around a flock of caged roosters. All that remained was the prevailing feeling of an empty stomach — and a haunting taste of life without Valina and his girls. If he was lucky, he’d find his family waiting for him at the camp. But their
Giggles erupted from the group as she handed the frog to one of the little boys.
“You’re good.” Nick, who’d hung back beside her while the others stood talking, laughed. “Good enough to think about changing careers if you ever get tired of the medical side.”
“I’ll have to think about that.” She glanced up at him, taken in by the toffee-brown eyes that conveyed a sense of calm she needed at the moment. “I have to admit that all this is overwhelming.”
Nick held out his hand and one of the little girls grasped his fingers and grinned up at him. “Yes, but that’s why you’re here. And I’m already convinced that there’s a certain doctor standing beside me who can handle the task ahead. All you have to worry about is one person at a time.”
One person at a time.
Paige drew in a deep breath. She could do this.
“Dr. Ryan?” Taz walked back to her. The carefree smile he’d worn earlier had vanished.
Paige pressed her shoulders back. “What’s wrong?”
“We have a potential problem on our hands. The truck that’s on its way here with fuel for the boreholes is stuck in the mud five kilometers down the road. There’s already a crowd trying to take advantage of the situation and siphon the fuel.”
Paige put her hand up to block the sun and gazed down the empty road. Digane might have put her in charge, but she wasn’t ready for them to look to her for answers. From the short briefing she’d received before she left, she knew that the road leading from the camp was lightly populated. It wouldn’t take long before word spread, and if the rebels got their hands on that fuel, the situation could quickly spiral out of control. It could take days before another truck arrived. Which meant they had to act fast.
“We need that fuel.” She looked Taz in the eye. “Have the rest of the supplies unloaded from the plane. And in the meantime, we’ll need a car and a driver to assess the situation.”
Taz nodded. “Give me five minutes.”
NINE
MONDAY, FEBRUARY 21, 3:52 P.M.
KINGANI ROAD
Samson held onto the hand of his son, Asim, who tried to pull him toward the open market lining the opposite side of the road. Women sat on the ground beneath the blistering afternoon sun with their piles of tomatoes and onions in front of them. Behind them, dozens more vendors displayed fish, bowls of rice and sugar, and other wares on rickety tables, where they’d barter with customers until the moon rose high against the black sky.
Asim tugged harder. “I’m hungry.”
“Not now. There is no time to stop, Asim.”
Samson caught the sting he’d inflicted in his son’s eyes and wished he could take back his sharp reply. He stepped over a deep rut slicing the dirt road. A week ago he would have pulled a coin from his pocket and given it to Asim to buy a treat from one of the vendors, even though Valina always reprimanded him for spoiling the child. He glanced down at his son’s wide brown eyes and dark, curly hair and replayed the moment, six years ago, when he’d been told his wife had given birth to a son. After three girls, the appearance of a son had filled him with pride. And, at that time, had renewed his hope that the ancestors still smiled on him.
But today his pockets were empty. He had no money to buy a handful of dried fish and sauce from one of the plump mamas minding her stall, let alone purchase a small piece of candy for his son.
He maneuvered Asim around a flock of caged roosters. All that remained was the prevailing feeling of an empty stomach — and a haunting taste of life without Valina and his girls. If he was lucky, he’d find his family waiting for him at the camp. But their
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