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9 |Approaching Romero Farm Outside Dimas, Pinar del Rio, Cuba
Maricela led the way along the edge of the embankment then broke inland across the rocks where they wouldn’t leave footprints. It was hard going for her brothers, but they eventually cleared the beach, the rest of the way home on level ground if they took the roundabout way, sticking to the cleared path rather than through the fields.
The going was slow as everyone crouched, not wanting to be seen from shore, or by the prying eyes of neighboring farms. Every time one of them thought they heard something, the warning would be sounded and they would take to the grasses on either side of the path, hiding the bright orange stretcher as best they could, turning what would normally have been a five-minute brisk walk through the fields into a half-hour ordeal.
The farmhouse was finally in sight when Javiero brought them yet again to a halt. “Do you hear that?”
Maricela was about to dismiss him once again when she cocked an ear. And gulped. “I think it’s a helicopter.”
Javiero dropped his end of the stretcher, the American groaning in agony before passing out again. “I’m out of here.” Javiero sprinted toward the farmhouse, leaving Maceo and Maricela to stare after him in disbelief.
“Grab the other end of the stretcher!” ordered Maceo. Maricela positioned herself then knelt down, lifting the end that Javiero had been carrying.
“Where are we going to go? We can’t make it to the farmhouse in time.”
“Just move!”
She pushed forward, struggling to maintain her grip, unused to carrying something behind her back.
“Just a little farther.”
She peered ahead, searching for their destination, then spotted the culvert that ran under the path. She aimed for it then put on a burst of speed as the thumping of the helicopter rotors grew louder. She led them into the ditch then lowered her end of the stretcher directly in front of the opening. Maceo angled the stretcher then with a grunt, shoved it inside and out of sight. He scrambled away from the opening and lay on his back, against the side of the ditch, staring up at the sky.
“Get beside me.”
Maricela mimicked him as the roar of the helicopter approached.
“Okay, stand up. It’ll look more natural.”
They both scrambled to their feet and stared up at the helicopter. Maceo pointed at it and waved as it blasted past them toward the shipwreck. One of the soldiers, dressed in the uniform of an officer, gave them a salute and a smile, then was out of sight.
Maricela sighed with relief as they watched it land in the distance. “That was close!”
“Too close.” Maceo rushed for the culvert. “Let’s finish this before more come.” He hauled the stretcher out and Maricela grabbed the other end, no longer so convinced they would get away with her good deed.