Bad Son Rising (19 page)

A final bullet from the front guard’s gun entered Zac’s chest, and in that moment, his body was too damaged to fight any longer, and he crumbled to the ground, joining his captors.

The pain was beyond searing and he feared a fiery hot blade was being used to carve out his organs, one by one. He wondered how many would be removed before he actually died. Afraid to open his eyes to see where he was or what was happening, a cough erupted from his burning lungs, ripping through him and he was certain he’d just been disemboweled, his intestines hanging out, left for flies and rodents to feast on along the rutted dirt road.

“Hey buddy, welcome back.”

It was his father’s voice and he felt a warm hand squeeze his. Heaven? No, his father wasn’t dead, so this couldn’t be Heaven. And anyway, there was not a shot in Hell they’d ever let him in there.

Delaying opening his eyes, fearful his father’s presence was only but a dream, he tried to answer. “Dad,” he thought he said it, but wasn’t sure if anything actually came out.

“You’re OK, Zac. You’re in the hospital in Brazzaville.” Schooner’s lips were near his ear, “The doctors operated and removed the three bullets. Amazingly, no vital organs were hit, but you lost a lot of blood and suffered a lot of tissue and muscle damage. It’s just going to take some time to heal and quite a bit of physical therapy, but you’re going to be one hundred percent. You’re going to be OK.”

As his father’s hand gently smoothed his hair, burning tears rolled down his temples into his hair. Even that hurt. It was that pain that convinced him his father’s words were real. He was in a hospital. He was alive. He had survived.

Opening his eyes to the blinding brightness of daylight, he coughed again, his entire body shuddering with a painful groan. “Dad, Lily and the kids?” he managed, as his stark surroundings came into focus. It was his first conscious thought and he needed the answer more than anything.

“Lily and the kids are fine. She’s here with me in Brazzaville, but I made her go back to the hotel. She’s been sitting here watching over you since she arrived. Do you remember what happened?”

He thought for a moment, trying hard to remember and nodded, turning his head toward his dad. It was clear Schooner Moore had not slept in days. The creases at the corners of his eyes appeared deeply etched and he looked significantly older than he had the last time Zac had seen him, several months before.

“Grandpa’s money clip?” Zac knew the importance behind the family heirloom that had once belonged to his great-great-great grandfather.

Patting his pocket, “Safe and waiting for when you are out of the hospital.” Schooner smiled down at his son, his tired eyes filled with relief, love and pride. Continuing to softly run his hand over his son’s hair, “I am so proud of you, Zac,” Schooner’s voice began to crack. “I am so proud to call you my son. What you did was selfless and took the courage, intelligence and wit that most men can only dream of possessing. You thought quickly on your feet and what you did absolutely saved Lily and those children.”

“I was scared, Dad,” his voice was hoarse and his throat was dry.

Schooner put a straw to his son’s lips and that first sip of cold water soothed his parched throat.

Zac continued, “But I knew I couldn’t show fear. Like with animals. If they sense it, they’ll attack.” Resting a moment to gather more strength, “I just appealed to greed and notoriety, Dad. Convinced them I could make them rich and famous. What more could they want? And it worked.”

“That was positively brilliant, Zac.”

“My conning skills were put to good use,” he tried to smile.

Schooner laughed, “I always say to Mia, if he could only put those skills to good use and I have to tell you, I’m glad they were so finely honed.”

“Yeah well, I’ve had a lot of practice.” Zac knew his proclivity to putting himself first in getting what he wanted from people, no matter the means, had been a long standing bone of contention with his father.

“I never thought I’d say this, Zac, but I’m glad you did. Your, how should I put this, ‘unconventional entrepreneurism’ saved Lily and those kids and it saved you. And it was selfless and brave,” getting choked up, “and I cannot even express how proud I am to be your father.” Schooner paused and smiled, “Hey,” he began, “I have something I brought for you from home.”

Pulling out his cell phone, he found what he was looking for and held it up for Zac to see. A video started playing.

Portia: Hi Zac (bouncing around)

Nathaniel: Hi Zac (waving)

Portia: We miss you. Are you coming home soon?

Nathaniel: Hi Zac

Portia: Daddy, bring Zac home with you.

(Mia’s voice off camera): Tell Zac you love him.

Portia and Nathaniel (together): I love you, Zac. I love you, Zac. (screeching and laughing)

(Mia’s voice off camera): Wave bye

Portia and Nathaniel (together): Bye Zac. Bye Zac. (more giggles)

“I miss them.” Even smiling hurt. Zac tried to move, but the pain was too intense.

“Let’s call for a nurse. We’ll get something to make you more comfortable.”

“Dad, how is Lily? Is she OK?” He was getting tired but he had to know.

“She’s understandably shaken up. She was fearful for your life. She thought she might lose you and was in pieces over it. What’s happened over here, Zac? She clearly has deep feelings for you.”

“I had to protect her,” he whispered, the pain starting to eclipse his thoughts.

“And you did. With your life. What’s the story with you two?” Schooner pressed his son again for his feelings about Liliana.

Two sets of similar blue eyes locked in on one another. “I love her, Dad. If anything had happened to her…”

Schooner’s smile reached his eyes, as he nodded his head. “You did an amazing job protecting her.”

Schooner Moore understood all too well his son’s actions. After over twenty years of thinking he and his son, his son who looked almost exactly like him, were polar opposites, he was now seeing a young man that clearly possessed the same Moore gene that he did — protect those you love at all costs. Take care of what is yours.

“I’ve made arrangements to medevac you out of here in a few days. As soon as the doctors give you clearance, we’ll be flying to Ramstein, Germany where you’ll be hospitalized for a period of time and then moved to a rehab. When you’re strong enough, you’ll fly back to the States.”

Zac remained silent and Schooner continued, “Your medical care is critical, Zac, to ensure the best outcome for a full recovery.”

With his jaw set tight, nostrils flaring as he shook his head no, “Dad, I can’t leave Lily here unprotected. I won’t be here to protect her. I can’t leave.”

“Zac, you are in no condition to protect Lily even if you stay. You’re recovering from multiple gunshot wounds. It will be a long time before you are back to your old self and if you stay, which you are not, you will not receive the level of medical or rehab attention you need. Staying means your recuperation time will take a lot longer. You really have to look at the long term outcome here.”

They were silent for a while. “Have you talked to her? What does she want to do?” Zac finally asked.

“She wants to finish her TDY. She’s hoping you’ll want to come back and continue your work. I told her you’d be convalescing in Ramstein and she wants to wait here for you. Wait for you to come back.”

“Is it going to be months before I’m ready?” Zac searched his father’s eyes, praying for a positive answer.

Nodding, “Yes, and that is if there are no setbacks.”

“So, she’d be here without me.” The picture was becoming very clear. It wasn’t what he had hoped for.

“I spoke to her father last night,” Schooner began.

Zac turned to look at him, moving his head brought on a wave of nausea, but it was important to know what Lily’s family wanted.

Continuing, “First, he cannot thank you enough for what you did to protect his daughter. He wants her home now. He wants her safe and back at Yale, Zac.” Schooner paused, “You can’t blame him.”

The promise he’d made to his father and Dr. Castillo hung over him like a sacred vow. “Look out for Lily. Keep her safe.” And now he could no longer do that. She would be here in an unstable environment without him there to protect her. The thought escalated his nausea. He couldn’t imagine making it through a single day without going out of his mind with worry if he was not by her side.

“Getting her to leave won’t be easy,” Zac confided in his father. “She is very dedicated to the work we are doing.”

“She won’t listen to her parents. You need to convince her to go home.”

Closing his eyes, Zac could think of only one way that would work with his strong willed love. Only one thing that would make her flee Africa. “Fuck,” he muttered under his breath. “Dad, can you have them bring me something for the pain?”

What Schooner Moore didn’t know as he left his son’s room for the nurse’s station was that Zac’s pain was not merely from his wounds, but also from the wounds he was about to inflict. Zac needed the pain meds to dull everything he was feeling, because the agony he was in and about to cause, had just become unbearable.

Prior to opening his eyes earlier, Zac had wondered if he were in Heaven. Ironic, he thought, just how far from the truth he had been. A fantasy. Just like being in love had been a fantasy. A fantasy that happened to other people, but not people like him. His fate had been cast when he was just thirteen.

The truth was, he had embarked on a journey to Hell, a place he knew was significantly more apropos for him, yet with all his selfish and underhanded skills, he had no clue how to con himself out of this one.

The soft touch of her fingers gently playing with the errant lock of hair that swept across his forehead roused him from an uneasy sleep.

Smiling at him, her eyes filled with tears, “I was so afraid I would never see those beautiful blue eyes again,” her words were choked.

“I’m glad you’re OK.” A parched throat made his voice rough and low.

“Me. I’m fine. Just exhausted. It’s you that I’m worried about.” She leaned down and placed a soft kiss on his lips.

Fuck me,
he thought,
just fuck me.
Under any other circumstance, her kiss would be the perfect healing salve, mending his heart, soul, and body — making him whole again, but instead it was a precursor to pain, to the shredding of both of their hearts.

“I’m going to be alright. So I hear, anyway,” as he spoke the words, he believed that he would never be alright again, that this was his one shot, one chance at humanity and he had to kiss it goodbye… literally.

“Oh my God, Zac. That was the most frightening thing in the world. The whole way back to the village I was freaking out that they’d hurt you or that they’d killed you. I don’t even remember getting back, just that I was there and telling them that they needed to find you, that you needed help. I was hysterical. I was afraid and so scared for you.”

“The whole thing is pretty surreal, isn’t it?” He wanted to share with her all the details, all his feelings, everything he remembered, but he knew he had to detach.

“I felt like I’d died a thousand deaths waiting, Zac, waiting for you to show up. Praying that they didn’t come down the road without you, that you were still alive,” she was sobbing as she recounted the experience. “And then I saw you and you were alive and my heart just wanted to explode. You were alive and I couldn’t run to you, I couldn’t help you. I couldn’t save you. They were holding me back because I wanted to run to you. When the gunfire started, I thought I was going to die and then you got hit and then again and again, and when you went down, I didn’t know if I had just watched you die. I wanted to go to you, Zac,” she choked out between sobs.

With a shredding heart, he listened to Lily attempting to work through the trauma, to share with him what she suffered that day. He ached to reach out to her, to comfort her, stroke her hair, renew their connection. Share it together. But he didn’t dare.

“I’m sorry you were put through that.” And he was.

“None of it matters,” she continued to stroke his hair and wiped away her tears with her free hand. “You’re here and you’re going to be OK,” she smiled down at him.

“I’m not staying here.”

“I know,” she nodded, “your dad told me. You’re going to be hospitalized and then rehab in Germany.”

“Yeah, but I’m not coming back.” Bomb one headed toward its target.

The shock of his statement was evident on her face. After everything they had discussed, their plans to re-up on their TDY’s, clearly Lily had not anticipated Zac bailing.

“Zac, I know you’re scared. You have just suffered a traumatic experience.”

“Well, that’s an understatement, but that’s not why I’m not coming back.”

“Will you go back to Newport Beach?” The reality of the situation was beginning to hit her and for as able and strong as Liliana Castillo was, after the horror of nearly losing him, and the solace and joy of Zac’s survival, it was becoming apparent that she was losing him all over again with every word spoken. She had not prepared herself for this unexpected loss.

“No. My home is in New York now.”

Unlike Lily to give up or back down on anything, her next tact was to try to reason with him, “I know you’ve just been to Hell and back, Zac, but don’t forget what the project means to you and how important you’ve been to it. Your natural skills have saved the day, no pun intended, on more than one occasion. Pumps are so much closer to completion because of you. Just think of the short and long-term effect you are having on people. You know what clean water means for eradicating life threatening disease and its effect on the infant mortality rate.” Lily was pulling out the big guns.

Muscles in his jaw were twitching, but he didn’t answer her. Taking his hand in both of hers, Zac could tell by the look on her face that it did not go unnoticed that he wasn’t squeezing her hand back. He could see the devastation creeping into her eyes as she tried to salvage the situation.