Chapter 210 Patricia Goes Missing
At the far end of the gloomy cottage was a long corridor. It was so pitch black, you couldn't see your own hand. Where the old lady had found it she didn't know, but in her hand was a flashlight casting a feeble glow, making the corridor seem even more eerie and chilling.
Patricia was so startled her hair stood on end. If not for the location app indicating this was the place marked by the blue dot, she would have turned on her heel and left immediately.
The old lady finally stopped in front of a wall after leading Patricia down the dark corridor. As Patricia puzzled over the situation, the grandmother pressed something unknown, and the walls slid apart to reveal a darkened room before her.
"Mr. Miller has been injured and, for his safety, I've hidden him here! Follow me inside."
Patricia nodded, treading softly behind the woman, and just to be cautious, she stealthily withdrew a stun gun from her bag, clutching it tightly in her hand. Her concerns, it turned out, were unwarranted.
The moment she entered the room, she saw Hunter, gravely wounded and lying on the bed.
His eyes were tightly shut, his lips cracked and peeling, his brows furrowed in deep pain. He was covered with a thick blanket, beneath which his condition was concealed.
There was an old heater running by the bed, lending the dim room a measure of warmth. Seeing that he was alive, Patricia's heart, which had been suspended in fear, finally fell back into place. She hurried over to check on him.
The elderly lady followed, her voice hoarse, "Mr. Miller has been good to our family. If it hadn't been for him, our little village would have been razed to the ground by now! Us old folks could have ended up homeless in our final years."
Patricia now understood why the grandmother had been so vigilant before. It turned out that Hunter had been her benefactor. The grandmother continued to explain everything.
"This is the outskirts where few people venture. Just yesterday, a warehouse a kilometer away exploded, and not long after, Mr. Miller arrived, suffering from burns in multiple places. I'm too old to leave this place or to obtain proper medicines, so I could only dab his wounds with iodine tincture.”
“Before he lost consciousness, Mr. Miller insisted on making a phone call. I heard him shout ‘Patricia’ on the phone, and even as he drifted, into unconsciousness, he kept calling out 'Patricia, Patricia...' So, I surmised that you must be someone very important to Mr. Miller."
The iodine tincture the woman spoke of, was sitting on the bedside table, its packaging faded and clearly past its prime. Patricia immediately pulled out medicines from her backpack. Supplies she had prepared specifically for this trip.
They were all meant for treating burns and included antiseptics, for both internal and external use. She knew in her heart that if Hunter had been in an explosion, even if he had miraculously escaped death, he would have been seriously injured. Burns were more painful than any other injury.
The grandmother, unaware of the full story, continued, "I don't know what happened to Mr. Miller, but when he arrived, he repeatedly stressed that no one should know he's here. Knowing that something must be wrong, I hid him in this cellar.”
“Before you arrived, several groups of people had come looking for him. They were menacing, clearly not good people. So, when I saw you, I couldn't bring myself to bring you here immediately."
Patricia pushed the money back into her hands, "Thank you for taking him in. Please, prepare some hot water. I need to clean his wounds."
The grandmother refused the money and pushed it back. "This place is so far from the city, we hardly ever leave all year round. Money is useless to us.”
“Keep it for yourself. Besides, Mr. Miller has been good to the people around here, and it's only right for us to help him. You take good care of him here. I'll go boil some water for him."
Seeing her refusal, Patricia didn't insist further, as she left to prepare the hot water. She also closed the door to the secret room.
Patricia's hands trembled as she pulled back the blanket, and upon seeing what was beneath, she couldn't hold back her tears anymore; they fell in large, heavy drops. Hunter had extensive burns on his body.
Though the burns were not deep, the area affected was significant. His shoulders, arms, and chest bore burns of various sizes. Given the limited medical supplies at the grandmother's disposal, all she could do was apply iodine tincture to the wounds.
But iodine was no cure for burns, and without proper treatment, there was a high risk of the wounds festering and inflaming, potentially becoming life-threatening. Thankfully, she had arrived before that.
Otherwise, Hunter might have escaped the explosion only to fall victim to his burns. Patricia efficiently cleaned his wounds with saline, disinfected them with iodine, and then applied a topical burn cream. By the time she finished, the grandmother had brought the hot water.
She thoroughly cleaned Hunter's body, dressed him in the clothes of the older woman’s late husband, and covered him with a blanket, gently patting his face.
"Hunter, wake up, Hunter..." With each call, Hunter slowly came to, gradually opening his eyes.
Upon seeing Patricia, he thought he was hallucinating and awkwardly attempted a smile. "Am I about to die? How nice, to see you before I die, even if it's just in a dream."
A bittersweet feeling surged through Patricia, and with tear-rimmed eyes, she chuckled, "You want to die? Did you ask your doctor's permission? Open your mouth and take your medicine."
Hunter obediently opened his mouth. Patricia fed him an anti-inflammatory capsule for his burns and handed him the hot water. "Drink up quickly and swallow the medicine."
Hunter complied. It wasn't until the capsule reached his stomach that Hunter realized he wasn't dreaming. "I'm not dreaming? You're really here?"
With a light pinch on his face, Patricia asked, "How about that? Does it hurt?"
The genuine pain widened the smile on Hunter's lips. He didn't scream in pain; instead, he laughed, looking silly and childlike. "So it's not a dream, you really came."
Patricia pushed his propped-up head back down onto the pillow, smiling, "Remember the call you made to me before you passed out?"
Hunter thought seriously for a moment, then looked puzzled. "Did I call you?"
Seeing that he couldn't recall, Patricia didn't dwell on it further. She smiled and said, "Anyway, I will take good care of you for the next few days. You should rest for now. I'll call Charles to let him know we're safe."
As she spoke, she took out her phone but realized that there was no signal at all.
Hunter reminded her, "This place is remote and we're in a cellar; I doubt there's any service. You should go outside to make the call."
"Okay!" Patricia nodded and went out to call Charles, only to realize that it was now the middle of the night in Ivara City, and the two little ones should be asleep. Not wanting to disturb them, she sent Charles a text message.
"I've found Hunter, and he is severely injured, so I have to stay and take care of him. You and Fannie listen to Jade's words, and I'll come back immediately after Hunter is out of danger. There's no signal where we are staying, so you won't be able to reach me for now. Don't worry about me; I will contact you when I can."
After confirming the message was sent, Patricia returned to the cellar. To save battery, she turned off her phone after getting back. What she didn't know was that the moment her phone was turned off, Martin's private plane landed at Los Angeles airport.
Martin, wearing a hand-tailored black suit with well-fitting lines that sculpted a lean and upright figure, his legs encased in black trousers that made them appear ascetic and long.
His face was sharply contoured, with brows that slanted into his temples, a prominent nose, and tightly pressed thin lips that collectively emanated a cold, and proud aura of immense pride, and aloofness.
He looked almost divine, awe-inspiring and fearsome. His height and physique stood out, not the slightest overshadowed by the tall and robust, athletic men. Standing among them, he drew sidelong glances from everyone and stood out from the crowd.
Upon leaving the airport, the first thing Martin did was to open the location tracking app, only to find that the yellow dot had disappeared. He immediately tried to call Patricia, but the prompt said the mobile phone was temporarily out of the service area.
Undeterred, Martin made five calls in succession, still to be told it was out of the service area.
His eyes narrowed and a hint of irritation crossed his expression. He located the driver Carter had arranged for him, handed over the location address Charles had sent to the driver.
"Take me to this place marked by the blue dot."
If Patricia was following the app, then they should have already met up by now. The driver, looking at the address, expressed concern, "This place is quite remote; shouldn't you prepare anything in advance?"
Hearing the word "remote," Martin couldn't afford to delay any further and said firmly, "No need, take me there immediately."
On the way, Martin still didn't give up on making phone calls. When calls weren't getting through, he tried texts. Unfortunately, like a stone sinking into the ocean, there was no reply.
"Damn it!"
Martin's face gradually became enshrouded in an icy chill, his temples quivering as a malevolent pressure of both freezing cold, and burning heat emanated from his entire body.
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