An Ounce of Prevention

She opened her eyes and looked at Alex. He was watching her, his expression unreadable. He was probably angry with her and she couldn't blame him. If they had stayed in Arkansas like he wanted to do, none of this would have happened.

It did happen, though, and unless they escaped before more people arrived, they likely never would. But how? Alex could untie his hands if he knew the kind of knot she had tied. She brought her knees up to hide her hand from the gunman. When he looked to see what she was doing, she rested her head on her knees. When he turned back to the window, she used the sign language that she had learned when Alex lost his voice. She signed to him the type of knot she had used.

He watched her fingers. If she hadn't known him so well, she would have sworn that he didn't understand. His expression never changed. He leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes. The guard looked at him, but apparently decided he was sleeping and once again returned his attention to the window.

Carmen saw the muscles in Alex's arms flex. It was the only indication that he was trying to untie his hands. Afraid that her attention would cause the guard to suspect something, she looked away from Alex.

After a few minutes she looked at Alex again and her heartbeat increased. His cell phone lay next to his pocket and he was touching it - probably calling someone. He finished what he was doing and pushed the phone half under him. Placing his arms behind his back as if he was still tied, he looked at the guard.

"We spoke to the Maricopa county sheriff yesterday. They'll be looking for us and they have a starting point."

The guard turned and looked at him. He laughed without humor. "The Maricopa County Sheriff does not come out here. You spoke to Manuel. He is wise enough not to look for you. He will do nothing."

"Someone will be looking if they find two dead bodies - tourists from Arkansas." Alex said.

The guard gave him a wicked smile. "But that is the beauty of it. You do not know this country. You wander away and the desert kills you." He shrugged. "They will look for no one."

Carmen looked at Alex. If they were left in the desert, they had a chance. This man had no idea that Alex wasn't the typical Arkansas tourist. Born and raised in Texas, he had been taught survival skills by his adoptive father. He knew where to look for water and how to survive. And then there was the phone call. Who was he calling? One person came to mind instantly - his birth father, Señor Medena. Alex was carefully feeding him information about where they were and what was happening.