hear the sound of a match or lighter above the thumping of her heart, eyes straining against the darkness for the telltale flicker.
Just as she felt solid ground under her feet again, the sky opened up. Rain came in sheets, driven almost horizontally by the wind. Instantly drenched, Ellie was already groping and clawing her way into the thicket of vines that curtained the snarling mouth of the stone Mayan beast. Crouched there, she watched in despair while the rain drowned her infant flames-and her hope with them.
Chapter 11
So much for Providence.
Her heart felt so heavy she doubted whether her body could even carry it. Might as well just crawl into the mouth of the beast and die there, she thought. And with any luck, a poisonous snake or scorpion would kill her before General Reyes did.
But then, what would happen to McCall? She couldn’t let him die because of her. She had to think of
It was then that she heard the shouts. Then gunshots.
And in that instant Ellie knew that Providence hadn’t deserted her after all. She’d just had her own ideas.
The lanai was leaning ominously, its thatched roof disintegrating, blowing away branch by branch in the wind. Through billowing curtains of rain Ellie could catch glimpses of the guard as he scrambled up the ruined wall, his rifle slung now across his back. There was no sign whatsoever of McCall.
Clawing her way back through the jungle growth, she ducked under the leaning, creaking remains of the shelter, groped for and found her sun visor-couldn’t leave without that!-and jammed it any-which-way onto her head. Then she took off running, bare feet splashing through infant lakes and rivers, barely able to see or breathe through the clinging curtains of rain.
McCall had known the second the skies opened up that that was the end of Ellie’s plan-plan A. As he was kicking the guard’s legs out from under him he was confident, hopeful-praying-that his crazy Cinnamon Girl, as quick a thinker as she was, would have no trouble at all slipping along with him into plan B.
He heard the gunshots as he was hauling himself up the last few feet of wall. It was a very strange feeling, being shot at for the first time in his life. Almost surreal. Almost as if part of his mind had shut down-the part, anyway, that knew fear, or had any real awareness that he might actually be hit. That he might die.
He felt utterly detached as he listened to the strange sounds…whines and zings and thunks…and then felt the sting of something hitting his arm. Just a tiny sting-a bit of rock or gravel thrown up by a bullet, he thought. No problemo.
Then he was on top of the wall…scrambling, falling, tumbling down the other side. And running, pounding through the rain as if the hounds of hell were snapping at his heels, not looking back, not looking anywhere, focusing only on his destination-the dark and wind-whipped jungle. No matter how sinister it looked, he knew instinctively that the jungle meant safety-at least for a moment.
Behind him he could hear the guard scraping and scrambling over the wall, yelling at McCall to stop or be shot. And a great exhilaration exploded through him, lifting him on a new wave of adrenaline into the sheltering trees.
Now, all he had to do was lose the guard and get to the designated meeting place. The cages-crude wooden structures built to temporarily house the hundreds of birds and animals now awaiting shipment-were off to the right, he was sure of that. Somewhere just beyond the giant Olmec heads, he remembered, he should come to a raised causeway leading off into the jungle to the left. Flanked by remnants of ruined columns, it had probably once been a magnificant promenade ending in an open court at the base of a smallish pyramid that was now no more than a steep-sided mound rising out of the jungle floor. The cages had been assembled in that courtyard, under a canopy of palm thatch and camouflage netting. He’d figured it should be easy enough to find, even in the twilight and pouring rain, which was why he’d suggested it-that, and he’d known it had made a big impression on Ellie, so she’d be unlikely to forget it, either.
So. The way McCall saw it, all he had to do was stay in the jungle, follow the perimeter of the ruins until he came to the causeway and then hang a left, meanwhile avoiding the other guards and not getting himself caught-or shot. And then hope and pray Ellie could do the same.
He didn’t think about what he’d do if she didn’t make it. His mind just refused to let him.
Not in a million years would he have imagined she’d get to the rendezvous point before him. Which was why, when she jumped out at him from behind a ruined pillar, he attempted to knock her into next week. And found himself flat on his back with the wind knocked out of him instead, and a rock that looked about the size of Iowa ready to smash down on his head.
“McCall!” Ellie let go of the rock-actually a broken chunk of Mayan sculpture-and dropped to her knees in the sodden grass beside him. “Oh God-McCall, I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize-I thought-are you all right?” She didn’t hear anything but some strangled gasping noises. Leaping to her feet, she straddled his hips, got her fingers inside the waistband of his jeans and heaved upward. Lowered…then lifted again…lowered…lifted…and was finally rewarded with some really beautiful wheezing croaking coughs.
She dropped to her knees, still astride him, weak with relief. “Oh…God…” And a moment later, furious and shaking, “Don’t
His arms came around her, and she was lying on his chest, their bellies bumping together with-of all things- laughter. “I guess-” and his whisper was scratchy in her ear “-I know now how you took care of those two guys the other night at Jose’s Cantina.”
“That was the first time, actually-except for in class. You’re the second.”
“Lucky me. Help me up and let’s get the hell out of here. The general’s men are going to be swarming all over this place in a minute. Wait a minute-” He paused in a half-crouch to haul in great gulps of air. Swiping a hand over his face in a futile attempt to get rid of the water, he lifted his head to glare at her. “How’d you get here ahead of me? I was running like a bat outa hell, and you were behind me.”
Face-to-face with him in a similar crouch, she gave a breathless, exhilarated laugh. “Simple-you went around the perimeter of the ruin. I went straight across-took a shortcut.”
“This place is a maze. How’d you know-”
“Never mind that now. Like you said-we’ve got to get out of here before they figure out which way we’ve gone.”
“Speaking of that…” McCall said morosely. He straightened up and made another swipe at the water in his eyes as he looked around him. “I have no clue which way the car is. I thought I had us covered there, but…I guess the rain’s taken care of that.”
“Had us covered? What do you mean?”
Even in the near-darkness she could see his look of chagrin. “Ah, hell,” he said with an embarrassed little throwaway gesture, “it was probably stupid anyway. I was just…you know, thinking about that ‘trail of bread crumbs’ thing. Seemed like it was worth a try…”
“You left…a trail of bread crumbs?” She said it on a yeasty bubble of laughter, full of a strange lightness, warm and cozy as the smell of Aunt Gwen’s fresh-rising bread in the farmhouse kitchen of her childhood. “What on earth did you use?”
He hesitated, trying again to wipe rain from his face. “Cigarettes.”
