As the ship pulled into the dock, if the busted, shelled-out structure could still be called a dock, Tiff and Theo almost cried with joy. Actually, in Tiff's case, there was no
almost
about it. She freely shed tears at the thought that their nightmare might be over with. The others huddled around the twins reacted in pretty much the same way; shouting, waving hands, crying freely. Tiffany Purtin buried her face in her brother Theodore's chest and just let herself weep, feeling his strong hand stroke her golden hair comfortingly.
"It's the UN ship, Tiff." Theo laughed breathlessly. "Goddamn, they finally came. Only took 'em about a month. Of course, by that I mean a month
after
they said they were coming."
Tiff looked behind them, past the cracked glass of the squat radio base they'd been sheltering in to the dense foliage beyond. "Would you want to take a trip to hell?"
"You mean again?" Theo chortled. "Now that we know it's hell? Not for all the applause in the next mission meeting. God, I just want a bath." He ran a hand down his filthy face. "I'd like to remember how my face used to look."
"Handsome enough to bat your eyes and get us out of some sticky situations." Tiff, now feeling weeks of tension begin to ease, swiped her own hand quickly across her brother's cheek.
"No, no... that was you swaying your ass." Theo, ever crude, didn't disappoint. "Lucky for us, no one had the time to..." He trailed off, realizing how inappropriate his words were becoming. He cleared his throat. "Just... just lucky all around." He put his forehead against his sister's. "I am so glad that you weren't... you know."
"I know." She whispered harshly. "God was watching out for me. For
us
."
"Yeah, unlike those other sorry bastards back there." One of their fellow survivors jerked a thumb out towards the forest. "I really think that civil war of theirs is gonna be the end of the country. Probably the end of the whole region. I've never seen such... such..." The man shuddered, then, mercifully, shut up.
A loud blare from the ship pulled everyone back to reality, and, at a signal from the sailors onboard, the entire group of twenty-one survivors streamed out of their last ditch refuge for their salvation. After all these weeks, they couldn't help but look over their shoulders for rifle fire, but apparently Theo's plan had worked, and they really had managed to outmaneuver the killers that had been on their tails.
Tiffany, trusting to providence again, decided to just sprint out into the open, letting her grimy, matted, golden hair flutter in wisps around her head. Her bare feet slapped on the rocky beach before too long, and, sure enough, she opened a huge gash across the sole of her right foot when she kicked against a particularly jagged piece of shale. With a cry, she started to go down, but Theo was there, her guardian angel, to scoop her up in is huge arms and carry her the rest of the way to the ship. Of course, her angel also still had his boots, so that helped too. Never count out minor miracles.
There was a trade-off, naturally. He kept the boots, and she kept the shirt, so maybe it wasn't all that one-sided. As she pressed her face to his bare, muscular chest, she decided that there were worse ways things could have worked out. She tilted her head up to look into his face, still obviously handsome beyond the filth, and his now-long, golden hair that was so like hers.
He is an angel.
She squeezed her eyes shut and prayed, and it wasn't for salvation this time.
Lord, take these thoughts from me. He's my brother...
Not for the first time, Tiff reflected that her decision to become a novitiate in the church in order to purify her flawed soul was not exactly working out like she'd thought. It also didn't help that her smoking hot twin insisted on following her to the third-world for a mission trip... and that she had absolutely zero ability to say no to him. Over the past months, watching him work in the sun, shirtless, in tight shorts, sweaty... glistening...
"Tiff, you ready?" Theo's deep voice shattered her ruminations; a small answer to her prayer. "They're putting out the gangplank."
The UN troops ushered all the survivors aboard in an orderly fashion while scanning the horizon for any last minute combatants. "Is this everyone?" A man, a sergeant, by the look of it, asked in disbelief. "We were told there'd be dozens."
"There
were
dozens. At first." Theo snapped at the man, then immediately moderated himself. "Sorry, sorry. I... it's been hard. Yes, this is everyone... that's left." He was still carrying Tiff's light frame, not seeming to even notice that he could put her down. She wasn't about to say anything.
"No... that's good." The Sergeant grimaced at the evil look the survivors all shot him at once. "Not what I mean. We don't... there's been..." He sighed. "Look, just get aboard and we'll set off. Then we need to all have a discussion."
Ominous, but there was nothing to be done. The group did as they were told, all shuffling to rows of deck chairs that had been set out for them. By the chairs, waiting for them, was a welcoming committee. Or something. Tiff didn't know what to call them, but it was quite an eclectic group. The Captain was there, judging by the uniform, as well as more troops in blue. There were non-UN personnel too, including what looked like citizens fleeing their nation's civil war. Her heart went out to them, and she hoped they could build lives for themselves in a new place.
The Captain introduced himself right off the bat as they all took seats. "My name is Jonathan Wilhelm. Welcome aboard
The Rudolph
. For you Americans... no, it does not have a shiny nose. Well, no shinier than most ships' noses." He chuckled at his own wit. He was the only one. Not noticing or caring, he went on. "There has been a diplomatic hitch to his mission."
As he spoke, Tiff noticed that his piercing blue eyes were continually drawn to her. At first she thought she was just being egotistically paranoid, but before long, she was sure. She took Theo's hand, shrinking into her brother. She was, once again, glad of the decision to let her keep one of their dwindling supplies of clothing, but now she really, really wished that it was more than just a t-shirt with gaping holes in unfortunate places.
God gifted me with this body, but it has been nothing but trouble.
She tried to surreptitiously cover her braless chest with her free arm, but the only thing that seemed to accomplish was to cause the supple flesh of her large breasts to bulge out around the pale skin of her forearm, and actually push her cleavage up above the neckline of her shirt. It was just something she'd have to endure, because she truly did not want to give this man any wrong ideas.
"We have been allowed to pick you up, but are forbidden from making landing in any nation while we still have citizens of this one on the ship." Captain Wilhelm droned on like he was reading a daily briefing. "Questions of sovereignty, and such."
At hearing groans and grumbles from the refugees, Tiff spoke up. "No, its fine. Please, my friends, you don't want these people to be tossed back to the wolves, do you?"
"Well and generously put." A woman's voice rang out then, and the crew parted to let a new figure appear. She was tall, on a level with Theo, in fact, and looked to be in good shape, from what Tiff could tell. The woman was wearing a white dress with a pleated skirt, and a long white coat over it. The contrast with her dark skin was striking, as were her faded, hazel-green eyes that made her look almost feral. It was contrasted, though, by her nearly straight hair; obviously treated in some way that Tiff was sure would be impolite to ask about. The men around her visibly reacted when she was near, straightening up and trying not to eye her openly. Even Theo hummed a bit under his breath, which made Tiff hug herself closer to him.
She's not so pretty. Just... exotic.
The woman was looking at Tiff and smiling warmly, so the young missionary tried to make herself ease up a bit. "You are very caring, miss. These people need help." She eyed Tiff's foot then. "But so do you." The woman frowned. "I really hope that is not infected. We only have a limited supply of... but listen to me be all gloomy. I'm sure it will be fine." At seeing Tiff's face pale, the woman rushed over to her side. "Forgive me, my teachers all said that my bedside manner is the worst." Without preamble, she took Tiff from Theo's side in her own arms, carrying her just like her brother had. "My name is Doctor Themba Munroe, and I need to see to your wounds."
The surprisingly strong woman carried Tiff away without so much as a heartbeat's pause to ask permission, leaving Theo gaping like a dying fish. Tiff, not knowing what to do, just went along with it; her foot was throbbing something fierce, after all. As she was swept away, she did catch the Captain take up his speech again, informing them that they'd be anchored miles off the coast for a time, until the powers-that-be come to a decision. It was reassuring. Enough.
Doctor Munroe took Tiff to a cabin down one level from the main deck. It was big, but the reason was obvious; it was the medical quarters as well as the Doctor's living space. There was a whole set of stainless steel furniture at the fore; long table and cabinet, a sink, a desk, all bolted to the deck to keep them from moving. At the back, through an open door, Tiff could see a bed and dresser, as well as a tall wardrobe. The strange thing, though was the massive tub dominating the exam section. The missionary had been on her share of ships since she'd taken this trip, and she'd never seen a sweet set up like that; it was almost like a cabin on a cruise ship. She thought that Doctor Munroe must have had a lot of pull to get this area for herself. Maybe she was the only doctor onboard? That was a sobering thought.
Better stay healthy
.
The doctor plopped Tiffany down on the long examining table and immediately began prodding the gash on her foot. Luckily, Tiff was only wearing shorts, so nothing was in the way as Themba ran a hand down her bare leg looking for other cuts and contusions.