Healing Love: Saints Protection & Investigation Read Online Free PDF

injuries from the earthquake, they’re taking anyone. If you’re willing, we’ll get the coordinates and send the rest of our report to you right now.”
    Cam nodded and the video conference ended. Silence reigned around the table. “I gotta get close enough to that hospital,” he said. “Whatever we plan, that’s got to be my initial goal.”
    “This isn’t going to happen in just a couple of days, Cam,” Jack said. “But then, you spent almost two years undercover in a gang, so I reckon you know how to take things slow.”
    “I got this,” he said. But what shape will she be in when I get to her? He reached up, fingering the St. Camillus medallion hanging at his chest. The Patron Saint of the Red Cross. Keep her safe until I can take over the job.
    *
    In her apartment in Richland, Miriam was used to the peaceful nights where her sleep was only occasionally disturbed by the neighbors below. But here, in Mexico, the noises of the night kept her awake in spite of her exhaustion.
    A fan rotated from the ceiling, moving the mosquito netting around. Shadows danced in the room from the moonlight peeking in through the wooden shutters. The air was hot—stifling. She could hear the gentle snores from Sister Genovia and the tossing of Sharon.
    But more than the exhaustion, backbreaking work, lack of sleep, and mediocre food was the constant fear coursing through her blood, entering every breath, and filling her nightmares.
    What day is it? Counting backward, she realized that she had been in Mexico for fifteen days. Ten, with the Red Cross in a farming hospital outside Los Mochis and the past five days with a drug cartel. The memory of her first day seemed so long ago.
    I arrived at the airport, was transported through streets still strewn with rubble from the earthquake and made my way to the main hospital in Los Mochis. I worked there for three days, in triage and emergency, paired with someone who spoke Spanish.
    The Spanish that I studied in high school was too far in the past to assist me now, but I quickly picked up enough words to check on the patients’ basic needs. A nearby hotel that suffered few casualties to the structure housed most of the Red Cross personal. I called my parents every day, filling them in with stories of what I was doing, what I saw of the area and how nice my accommodations were, compared to what they had feared.
    On the fourth day, a number of medical personal were bused to a farming community on the north side of Los Mochis. The land outside of the city was beautiful and the effects of the destruction was minimal to the eye. Sister Genovia was among the nurses and I marveled at her stamina for a woman in her sixties. A few of the nurses were unhappy about leaving the city but most were excited to be seeing a different area of the country.
    Passing by several villages, I saw crumbled brick buildings, leaving the villagers without any housing at all. Finally, we arrived at the makeshift hospital that was serving a large agricultural area. The line of potential patients was long as they waited to be seen.
    Disembarking, we were hustled inside and quickly put to work. The makeshift hospital designated areas for triage, emergencies, non-emergencies and surgery. After a long day, we were shown to our tents. I was assigned to a tent holding ten women in five bunk beds. Sharon proclaimed a bottom bunk quickly and Sister Genovia was given the only other bottom bunk available. I threw my things onto the top bunk before we headed off to the chow hall.
    For the next week, I rose early, worked all day and then enjoyed the company of the other Red Cross volunteers in the evenings. They came from all over and the opportunity to serve with them gave me a sense of pride. Making sure to call my parents every evening, I assured them I was fine.
    The eleventh day in Mexico would be a day that would live in my mind…and fears…forever. Rising early, we made our way to the chow hall before reporting for our