Page 11 of Her Faithful Protector

“Doctor Ross!” a voice called out to her from the back of the bus. Camilla recognized who was talking. It was Michael Lyton, one of the football players from William and Mary College. He was only a sophomore, but he had a good head on his shoulders.

“What’s going on, Michael?”

“Can you come here? It’s important.”

“I’m basically hanging from the ceiling, Michael. I can’t get there.” She turned her body so that she could see over the tall bus seat and look toward the back of the bus as best she could.

Oh, God.

“Michael, don’t. The other men will be boarding the bus any minute,” she begged the young man. He had El Jefe’s rifle. The kidnapper was sprawled unconscious across two seats, and Michael had the rifle pointed at El Jefe’s temple.

“I’m not going to kill him, I’m going to use him as a way to get us out of here. They won’t want their leader dead. Will they?”

It was the way he asked the question, ‘will they’ that got her attention. It scared her to think that she was somehow the leader in this fiasco, and if she didn’t do something, Michael was going to end up dead because he tried to outgun the kidnappers.

“Michael, drop the gun, it’s a losing proposition.”

“No, it’s not. You’re doing good, man,” Travis yelled out.

“Be quiet, Travis. You’re not helping,” she gritted out loudly. “Michael, stop this before he wakes up.”

“If he wakes up, I’ll kill him. He’s the leader: without him, maybe the others will let us go.”

“He’s the one keeping the others in line. It would be worse without him,” she argued.

“Don’t listen to her. We need him as a hostage,” Travis interjected.

To hell with El Jefe, I’m going to kill Travis!

Camilla could hear clamoring outside the bus. They were being boarded. She turned her head toward the bus door and saw Travis letting himself out of his seat and dropping down so that he could join Michael.

“Gentlemen, you’re going to get killed. Stop this now.” She used her best student-teacher voice.

“Shut up, Doctor Ross, this isn’t the classroom,” Travis bellowed.

Before he could reach Michael, El Jefe’s hand moved and grabbed the barrel of the rifle. He pulled it forward as he moved his head, forcing it to go past him. A shot fired into the seat that the kidnapper had been lying across. Blood splattered against the far window as Larry Collins was shot in the head.

Camilla closed her eyes against the horrifying scene. How would Michael ever live with himself?

“Jesus. God no.” Travis sounded like he was in intense pain.

Camilla opened her eyes and looked at Travis, who was staring at Michael. She turned to look at Michael and gasped in horror for a second time. El Jefe’s knife stuck out of Michael’s neck. For just an instant Michael’s eyes sought hers out. They connected, he saw her, he was pleading for something. Anything.

Oh God, the terror and pain on that boy’s face as he looks at me. I can’t look away, I need to be strong for him.

Camilla's heart wrenched as she watched the life fade out of his eyes before he slumped to the floor.

El Jefe, who now had the rifle, shot a long burst of bullets into the bus’s side that was now acting as the ceiling. “Who else wants to try something stupid?” he roared as he staggered toward the front of the bus. Travis, who was still standing in what was now the middle aisle, held up his hands.

“I don’t want any trouble. I promise.”

El Jefe jabbed the tip of the rifle into Travis’ stomach, causing the young man to gasp with pain. “Are you rich? How much will your parents pay for you?”

“A lot,” Travis promised.

“Enough for you and the two kids who died? Including the one you forced me to kill? Because his death is on you.” Travis looked like he was going to throw up. “Your parents’ ransom will be three times as much as all the others. If they don’t pay, my men will tie you to a tree and leave you for the jaguars. You understand me?”

Travis didn’t say anything.