Page 50 of What Remains (John Worthy #3)

There was no asking Mac what happened either.

“You going to be able to do much for him here?” Having masked and gloved, Driver had helped roll Mac onto his left side so John could get a look at the exit wound. “Or am I calling for an evac, like, yesterday?”

“Yesterday,” John said, a little abstracted.

The exit wound was an ugly mess of macerated flesh and muscle.

The good news was that the blood coming now wasn’t clotted or pulsatile but thin and bright red, more ooze than something from active bleeders.

Mac still smelled a bit like the outhouse he must’ve tumbled into, but that was the least of his problems.

“Let him down now.” As Driver carefully lowered the unconscious man onto a large sterile pad spread on the pallet, John stripped out of his gloves, turned off his flashlight, and said, “Here’s what I think.

Given where we are and the sound of those shots this morning, the wound’s more likely than not from an AK.

Near as I can tell without inserting a probe, this is a right flank, through-and-through.

But he’s still lost a fair amount of blood.

“What he needs is an exploratory laparotomy and cleanout in an OR and then, like Davila, IV antibiotics. Unlike Davila, he probably needs a transfusion and then a stay in an ICU. All that translates to evacuation in my land. The question is, can you arrange an evac?”

“In the middle of the night?”

“Well, look, if it makes it easier, just have them drop a body bag. That way you can call for help tomorrow. Or next week. Or whenever the hell it suits you. The body will keep on ice—and don’t.

” John raised a finger. “Don’t even think about telling me to shove it.

If you guys did a night drop, you can do a night pick-up.

And don’t you think it’s about time you read me in?

You said you were called to extract Meeks and Flowers, but then why is Mac here?

There is absolutely no way this is a coincidence that either of them just happens to be in the neighborhood. ”

“Don’t you think I know that?” Driver ran a hand through his hair. “Look, I agree. It can’t be a coincidence. But I honestly don’t know why she’s here. Him…I have an idea.”

“Well, don’t keep me in suspense.”

Driver opened his mouth to reply, but then the boy, Poya, called, “Doctor John, she is waking up.”

“Whoa.” John checked his watch. “She chewed through that pretty fast. On the other hand, with all those old tracks, she got shot up a lot. Probably built up a tolerance.”

“Will she be coherent?” Driver asked.

“Only one way to find out.” John pushed to his feet. “Make that call. Then let’s hope we get some answers.”

“Got the medics, but seven hours until a pickup,” Driver said, pocketing his satellite phone.

“That long?” John shook his head. “I’m good, but I’m not a Houdini.”

Driver glowered. “I don’t know what else you want me to do. Remember, this is unsanctioned. My superiors didn’t know they’d be here either. Speaking of which…” He rounded on the woman, who was sitting and sipping from a mug of hot broth John had whipped up. “You mind explaining now?”

“Easy, man,” John said, but the woman interrupted. “I can speak for self. Mac help me go into mountains for my boys.”

“Your boys.” Driver’s jaw set. “After all this time?”

“Yes, after all this time ,” Shahida shot back. “I need go to mine.”

“Mine,” John echoed. Thought: Ustinov. “This wouldn’t happen to be a lithium mine, would it?”

“Yes.” She frowned. “How you know this?”

“I got the skinny from a helpful Russian.”

“The guy who met you and Davila at the airport?”

John nodded. “Apparently, lithium is the new gold in these parts and why the Taliban are hot to get that road finished.”

Driver, still frowning: “But why were you interested, Shahida? Why was Mac?”

“Or Meeks and Flowers.” When Driver glanced his way, John said, “You can’t honestly believe they aren’t all here for the same reason, and I bet it’s not for the lithium.”

“I no care about rocks.” Shahida’s upper lip curled. “I come for my boys.”

“Your boys?” John echoed at the same moment that Driver said, “Wait, the kids you brought at the last second? The ones you and Musa were driving back before you up and vanished? Why would the boys be here ?”

The woman opened her mouth, but the boy, Poya, beat her to it. “Boys are small. They fit into places men can’t. It’s why there are no boys here.”

“ You’re here,” Driver said.

John opened his mouth then as quickly shut it.

Having already examined the boy, in private, he knew exactly why Poya was still here.

There were things that could be fixed or which would heal.

The gash in his mouth from that slap wasn’t serious.

The problem with his left eye…okay, he could see how that would freak out just about anyone, but surgery might help quite a bit.

As for the rest…Poya was entitled to keep that secret for as long as possible.

Especially here. Until we finish this. Then we figure something out.

So, aloud, John said, “I think he meant other older boys. Isn’t that right, Poya?”

Their gazes locked, and John saw in that instant that Poya understood: John would keep his secret.

“Yes.” The tension bled from the kid’s features. “Thank you. That is what I meant.”

“So?” Driver looked perplexed. “Why is that important?”

“Because the math doesn’t work,” Poya said. “The other children are all young.”

“Math?”

“Yes. I noticed this right away when I got here. It’s why I’m here. Amu has a son named Hamzad. I think he’s…” The boy pointed heavenward. “There. At the mine.”

“And were you before you came here?” John asked.

“Sarhad. I went there with my mother to meet…” Poya paused, his head moving almost imperceptibly toward the shyrdak.

Oh, my God. John felt a sudden flash of intuition. Poya knows who he is.

“My mother said she was going to get help.” A pause. “I don’t know what happened. She never came back.” Poya let go of a long breath, the way a parent might tell a child to get rid of the bad. “But that is not the important thing now. The mine is.”

“This is what I try telling them,” Shahida said.

“Yes,” Poya said. “The math doesn’t lie.”

“What do you mean, math?” Driver asked.

“There are eight families in Amu’s clan. Twenty-one are adults,” Poya said. “Sixteen are couples who can still have children.”

“So?”

“No, he’s right,” John said. “Poya’s talking probabilities and averages.”

Poya nodded. “The clan has thirteen children. But only two are boys and they are young, under ten years old. The math is wrong. People marry young here, and they have children right away. Usually as many as they can. Four, five, six. Amu had five. His mother-in-law, Bas, had seven. Many mothers die and children die, too. That is what happened to Amu’s wife and most of their children are dead.

Bas had three boys and four girls, but they are all dead now, too.

” Poya gave them all an expectant look. “But do you see it? The problem?”

Driver frowned. “About what?”

“Math,” John said. “Bas had seven kids, in a three-four split. So, roughly fifty percent. Nature’s not perfect and in small enough numbers, you’re going to get some skew. But roughly half the kids here ought to be boys and the other half, girls. But if only two are boys…”

“I get it,” Driver said. “If there are only a couple of boys here , where are the rest?”

“Poya just told us.” John looked to Shahida. “Right?”

“Yes, my boys are where I and Mac and Meeks and Flowers go to rescue them.” Shahida straightened. “My boys are in the mine.”