Fever by V. K. Powell Page B

stopped abruptly. He pointed at Zak but directed his comments to Sara. “Get a new guide, Ms. Ambrosini. This one is a liability to you and your school.” The caravan was swallowed in a swirl of dust.
    As the vehicles topped the hill and disappeared from view, Sara glared at her, hands on her hips. Zak imagined one of her probing questions or long tirades perched on the tip of her tongue, but she wasn’t in the mood to listen. “I tried to tell you this wasn’t a good idea.” She started retrieving their supplies and clothes, which were scattered across the ground. Sara followed.
    “Leave it alone,” Zak said over her shoulder, “and stay away from him. I’ll take care of the permit and the fee tomorrow.”
    “I don’t take orders from you, Zak.” Her tone was neither angry nor critical but held the same tolerance and control she’d demonstrated with the lieutenant. How could a woman who was normally verbose and emotional be so calm? She had every reason to be furious with her. Zak placed her and the project in jeopardy and talked to her like she was an unruly teenager.
    She didn’t want to see the questions or accusations in Sara’s eyes, but had no choice but to face her. Instead of the recriminations she’d expected, there was only concern. Her usual defensive remarks stalled as she realized the untenable position she’d placed Sara in. “You’re right, but you agreed to do as I say.”
    “That was before I realized what we’re up against.”
    “You still have no idea.”
    “Then school me. I deserve that.” She followed Zak as they gathered their belongings.
    “Corruption is everywhere, Sara. Just let me handle it.”
    Sara grabbed Zak’s arm and forced her to make eye contact again. “If you won’t tell me what’s going on, I can’t trust you or your ability to handle anything for me. For all I know you’re just a white female version of the lieutenant and Wachira.”
    The comment pierced Zak’s heart like a spear. Of all the insults Sara could use, she’d chosen the ones that inflicted the most damage. Having her abilities and her loyalty questioned was hurtful enough, but being compared with those two vile men ripped at her like an injured animal. She pulled from Sara’s grasp and walked toward the mess tent.
    When Zak entered the cooking area, Ben was making arrangements for dinner. “Did they damage anything?” she asked.
    “No.”
    The lack of further comment was unlike her friend. Ben usually stated his opinion, and he was certainly in hearing range of her conversation with Sara. Right now, Zak needed an objective view. Her feelings about this place, about Wachira, about Sara were clouding her judgment.
    “Go ahead and say whatever’s on your mind. You think she’s right, don’t you? Do you think I should tell her everything and let her make her own decision?”
    “Grief and anger blind. You forget how to be with people.” Ben’s stance was tall and erect, his eyes never leaving Zak’s. This was his preferred method of delivering what he considered unpleasant news, with honesty and respect. “Tell her. She can help.”
    “I’m afraid. What if she gets hurt? I couldn’t live with another loss like—”
    Sara entered the tent and approached Zak, her brown eyes watery with tears. “I’m so sorry for what I said. It was cruel and thoughtless. Please forgive me.”
    Zak could hardly bear to see her in such distress. Sara’s remark had hurt, but Sara’s regret and plea for forgiveness touched Zak’s heart. She was the one who should be asking for Sara’s forgiveness, telling her the truth about her past with Wachira and the potential impact on the school project. She should be finding another guide and removing herself from this assignment. But something inside her refused to let logic and reason lead her. “No problem. Let’s forget it. Help me gather some firewood?”
    As they left, Ben said, “This one is strong,” and Zak knew he wasn’t talking about