Melina crouched, panting, beneath the limbs of a clusia tree. Its round, leathery leaves blocked out the sound of her pursuers, but she had no doubt they were still out there. She could
Maybe she should just stop this foolishness and give up. She could raise her hands over her head and walk out of the bush, and tell Huayar’s men she’d gotten lost trying to find his camp. She’d followed the screams to the area, but then had gotten scared when someone tried to chase her. If she acted lost and stupid enough, maybe she could sell the explanation to Huayar and his men.
She wanted to shout for John, to beg him to come make it all better like he had so many times already. But she was on her own out here. He’d told her stay put and she hadn’t. Except, even knowing she’d be chased like a fugitive, she would still have tried to help him. If nothing else, maybe she’d drawn some men and some attention away from the camp and made his job easier. She had to believe he was still okay, that he was still working on freeing her parents. Any other sequence of events had no meaning for her, because she’d rather die herself than lose her family.
Comprehension flashed across her mind. This was how John felt! This was why he’d been so hell-bent on joining his comrades in death. They’d been family to him, perhaps the only people he really cared about. And he’d lost them. Her own heart bled for his anguish.
Crackling noises in the brush nearby made her freeze, holding her breath. She listened for a long time, determination and doom warring within her. But then her resolve stiffened. If John had promised to fight through the loss of his military family and keep on going for her, surely she owed him no less.
She eyed a sweet gum tree off to her right. If she could get behind that, there was a heavy stand of underbrush she could worm her way into. She eyed the menacing gloom of the forest around her. Nothing moved. A twig snapped, farther away than a few minutes ago. She eased out of her hiding spot. It was now or never.
John eyed the building across the last open space before him. This structure was solidly built with tin siding and small windows perched up high. He’d peered into one of those windows last night and spotted Melina’s parents and brother asleep inside. Surely, they were wide-awake now, what with all the screaming and commotion in camp.
He would’ve preferred to come upon them while they were sleeping-they’d be less likely to give away his presence by some expression of surprise or joy at seeing a rescuer. But, he had to move now. No way would Melina sit out there for long doing nothing, listening to that poor sod scream. She was far too compassionate and empathetic a soul for that.
He waited until Huayar did something that made his prisoner howl like a banshee. Every guard’s head turned toward the central clearing, and John used the moment of distraction to glide across the path and into the shadow of the structure. He slid around back to the same window he’d peeked into the night before. Grabbing its sill with his fingertips, he did a slow chin-up to peer inside.
He stared in dismay. Gone! The room was empty. No people. No blankets on the bed. Nothing. He let himself down silently and crouched below the window, thinking.
Huayar had moved his prisoners. This was not good. Not good at all. Huayar had anticipated that someone might try to come in here and rescue Melina’s family. Word had obviously gotten back to the bandit that Melina Montez had brought help with her. A potentially competent operator. Damn, damn, damn.
If Huayar was operating on the assumption that his enemy was highly skilled, then the bandit would’ve taken other security precautions, too…John swore under his breath…like the poor schmuck screaming behind him. All of a sudden, Huayar’s choice of torturing some guy tonight took on a whole new significance.
Was this entire scenario an elaborate trap?
Crap. How could it not be? The screaming was meant to lure Melina into the open. Maybe even to give John a plausible cover under which to sneak into the camp and attempt a rescue. And the prisoners had been moved. He’d bet a bundle that if he tried to get into the now-empty room at his back it would be chock-full of booby traps.
He had to get out of here now!
As another scream erupted behind him, John took a quick look around and made a dash for the trees. The vegetation was thin here at the foot of the massive cliff behind the camp, but it was enough. He melted into the shadows, abandoning hours’ worth of patient penetration of the encampment. Frustration ground his molars together. He needed more resources, dammit!
Alternate plans flashed through his head almost too fast to process, but one necessity overrode all others. He had to get back to Melina. To let her know that wasn’t her brother or her father being tortured. To get her to sit tight and let him come up with another plan.
He moved off to the west, easing around the perimeter of the camp and its inner ring of guards. Now that he took a head count, he noticed that there were more than double the number of guards posted tonight compared to last night. Oh, yeah. The bastard had laid an elaborate trap for them. He had to get to Melina, and fast. She’d fall into Huayar’s snare as innocently as a rabbit sticking its head in a hunter’s clever lure.
Chapter 15
Melina ran for all she was worth, away from the distant sounds of movement in the jungle. If only John were here, he’d know what to do. Panic was getting the better of her, and despite knowing that this was a bad thing, she couldn’t help its creeping advance.
Yet again, breath deserted her, and she stopped in the lee of a large-leafed bush of some kind. The forest felt alive, dozens of eyes peering out of every shadow. At the very edge of her vision, she imagined she saw a vaguely human form materialize out from behind a tree, a shadow within the shadows, and beckon to her.
Just then, crashing sounds erupted behind her and she looked over her shoulder, frantically. She turned back around to that ghostly form, and it was gone. Great. Now she was hallucinating. Must be the lack of oxygen.
Air or no air, she had to get moving. Still gasping from her last sprint, she dashed off again, this time in the general direction of that desperate vision.
John froze in the woods only a few dozen yards beyond the last line of guards. Sweet mother of God, the entire forest was crawling with Huayar’s men. They were crashing around like a herd of angry elephants. He dived for cover and quickly pulled handfuls of dead leaves and dirt up over himself as a pair of bandits rushed past.
Definitely looking for something. Or someone.
His stomach dropped like a block of lead.
Frantically, he tried to send her a telepathic message.
Melina ran until the stitch in her side was so severe she could hardly see, let alone breathe. Not that it mattered. Someone behind her had spotted her and sent up a great shout. It sounded like twenty men were chasing her now. It was only a matter of time until they closed in on her. The sounds of branches breaking and men swearing were within maybe fifty feet of her now.
The jig was up. They were going to catch her.
In the few remaining seconds she had left, she had to think fast. John had said not to show Huayar fear. Ever. Surely, running around like a fox pursued by Huayar’s hounds was a colossal statement of terror. She had to take control of this situation, and now.
Quickly, she brushed as much of the dirt and leaves off herself as she could. She waited until she spotted the first of her pursuers, and then stood up, waving to him.
“Here I am!” she called in Spanish. “Are you with Geraldo Huayar?”
The guy stared in shock for a moment. He rushed forward and made a grab at her arm.
She jerked away indignantly. “Hey! Take your hands off of me. I asked you a question. Are you Huayar’s man?” she demanded.
