No Escape

by Tory Richards

  Aggravated that she’d just read his mind caused him to growl, “I already told you I wouldn’t. I haven’t gone to all this trouble to dump you in the jungle where Rodriguez can get his fucking hands on you again.”

  “Then what do you get out of this?” she inquired, watching him. “I hope you’re not expecting money. Susan and I own a small business, but we’re not rich.”

  “Then maybe I’ll take a little piece of ass.” Clint enjoyed the hot blush rising to her cheeks, knowing it’d be a cold day in hell before he got anything from her. Except maybe a swift kick where it counts.

  Suddenly tired of their banter, he demanded in a voice laced with impatience. “Are you going to stay here until I came back for you, or not?”

  “Do I have any options?” She pressed her lips and crossed her arms.

  Clint could be just as obstinate. “No.”

  “Besides, where else would I go?”

  Something in her voice sent up warning flags. Releasing a breath of irritation, Clint swore, his eyes falling to that smart mouth of hers. He knew a fake smile when he was looking at one. He stared at her for a long tense moment. “My gut’s never wrong. You can’t be trusted.”

  “Then maybe you should take me with you. I’m not the enemy here, Clint.”

  He sighed deeply and rolled off her, mumbling beneath his breath, “I’m warning you, Sarah, don’t make me regret this. If I tell you to jump off a fucking cliff, you jump off a fucking cliff. No questions. You got that?”

  Clint didn’t wait for her to acknowledge his comment, or argue with him about it. He started to back out the way they’d come. “Follow me. And for fuck’s sake, don’t make any more noise than you have to.”

  It didn’t take Clint long to crawl backward out of the thicket they were hiding in. He remained on his haunches, listening to the quiet around them as Sarah slowly inched along on her belly. He wanted to make damn sure no one had been left behind before they started out. Most times you could hear the enemy before you saw them.

  Satisfied there was no one around, he glanced up from his crouched position and swore. Sarah had risen to her feet and was brushing her clothes off. He yanked her back down beside him.

  “Where in the hell is your brain, lady? Rule number one—never stand up in the open in broad daylight. The enemy will see you long before you see them.”

  Her eyes darted around them. “Rules? Are you making these up as we go along, or do you have a handbook I can look at?” There was that sass, again. She jerked her arm away. “If this keeps up, I’m going to be black and blue by the time we leave the island.”

  “Yeah, but you’ll still be alive, angel.” Clint’s eyes narrowed on the tail end of a small animal disappearing into the bushes. That was probably the noise he’d heard earlier. Without warning, he snatched up his duffel bag, grabbed Sarah by the shirtsleeve, and pulled her behind him as they set out in a less furious pace than before.

  Chapter Eight

  A few hours later, exhausted, starving and stumbling along behind Clint in a zombie like state, Sarah was convinced he was trying to kill her himself. The fruit she’d wolfed down earlier wasn’t enough to sustain the energy she was exerting. She didn’t realize she was in such bad shape. Her weekly workouts at the gym certainly hadn’t prepared her for anything as grueling as the pace they were keeping. At least Clint had water, and occasionally, he stopped and offered her some from his canteen.

  Her eyes bore into his sweat-stained back, hating him because he made her aware of weaknesses she hadn’t had to explore before. Didn’t he ever tire? There were times Sarah thought he actually forgot all about her.

  “How much further?” Sarah couldn’t take the silence any longer. Walking behind Clint and watching his backside was practically putting her to sleep. When she wasn’t busy itching. The sun beat down on their heads fiercely, making her sweat profusely, which didn’t mix well with the layer of grime she was wearing. “Will we be making camp soon?”

  “Soon enough,” he said curtly, not bothering to turn around.

  As well as eating again Sarah hoped, wishing now she’d eaten that damn banana peel. Since she still had the canteen from the last time Clint had offered her a sip, she slipped it off her shoulder. Maybe a little water would take the edge off her hunger. “Are you always such a grouch?” She took the cap off and brought the canteen to her mouth, taking a long swallow.

  Clint chuckled. “Talk about the pot calling the kettle black,” he said, hiking on. “Only when I’m stuck with women who talk too fucking much.”

  Sarah wondered what tree they’d be sleeping in that night, hoping they settled somewhere near water so she could clean up a little. She scratched her arm and then her back. Why isn’t he itching? Her eyes stared daggers at his backside, cursing him silently. Somewhere in the branches overhead, a bird let out a loud squawk, causing her to nearly jump out of her skin. She laughed softly, watching it fly away.

  Suddenly and unexpectedly, the trees around them came to life. Sarah glanced up in surprise to see hundreds of birds taking flight. Drawing to a halt, she watched the spectacle in awe, wondering what predator had frightened them. The eerie sound of their screeches sent a shiver of alarm down her spine. She had the feeling they should be running for cover, too. She glanced around nervously, not fully understanding what she was looking for.

  Her gaze went to Clint, who’d stopped a few steps away and was observing the same incident, his set expression unreadable. “Clint…”

  He held up a hand to silence her, waiting for the noise to die down, his body tensing a second before Sarah heard the distinctive sound of gunfire. “Run!”

  He didn’t have to tell her twice. She took off right behind him as more shots rang out, instinctively crouching as she ran. Clint glanced over his shoulder to make sure she was keeping up. “Whatever happens, keep moving in the direction of the sun!”

  She didn’t like the sound of that. He sounded as if there was a possibility they might become separated. His next words took the fear of that prospect right out of her head and turned it into frightening reality.

  “Keep going. I’ll catch up to you!”

  “But…” Her steps faltered.

  Clint gave her a shove. “I don’t have time for chitchat—just do it!”

  How is he going to find me and how does he expect me to keep heading toward the sun, when it is rapidly disappearing behind the mountains in the distance?

  She let out a cry of alarm when a bullet whizzed past her ear, splintering the bark in the tree next to her. Reluctantly, Sarah did as she was told, glancing back long enough to see him sprinting off in the opposite direction.

  Where is he going, and better yet, where am I? She swore beneath her breath, running blindly in the direction he indicated, her heart sinking because the large orange ball in the sky was rapidly sinking, too. After that, she was going to be in big trouble. Directionally challenged, she was the kind of person who had to park her car in the same spot at the mall in order to find it when she was done. Without the sun guiding her, she could easily end up right back where she started.

  She slipped and stumbled to her knees but was up and running again before the wet ground had a chance to soak through her pants. Surprising how adrenaline replaced the exhaustion in her system. A second ago, she’d been ready to collapse, now she felt like she could run miles. Only Sarah knew once the adrenaline rush wore off, she’d run out of steam fast.

  The lack of gunfire had her wondering if that was a good sign or not. What if that meant they’d captured Clint, or worse? But she couldn’t let those ungrounded thoughts stop her and continued to run as though demons were chasing her. Ignoring the stitch in her side and her burning lungs was harder, but Sarah found the strength to push on faster and harder. Praying it was in the right direction and Clint would find her somehow. Hoping he was all right.

  She didn’t even want to think about the possibility he might not be. He seemed more than capable of taking care of himself,
or any situation. The only thing she was certain of was she couldn’t continue her grueling pace much longer. The pain in her side had become unbearable and forced her to slow until she couldn’t take another step.

  The blood was pounding in her ears and her lungs were empty when she finally came to a jerky halt. She sank to her knees and clutched at her side, knowing she needed to rest. All the while her gaze moved around the area. She had no way of knowing how far she’d run or if she’d even stayed on the course Clint had wanted her to go.

  As she gradually brought her breathing under control, Sarah began to notice the sounds of the jungle around her, the same animal noises she’d heard the first night. Then she heard something that was very distinguishable from the rest. Not close but heading in her direction. Someone or something was running, coming up fast behind her. What if it was one of Raul’s men?

  The sound of branches breaking and dried leaves crunching beneath heavy footfalls was too loud and convinced her it couldn’t possibly be Clint. He’d never make that much noise, would he? She glanced behind her as panic set in and decided to crawl behind a tree and hide.

  Whoever, or whatever, it was appeared to be in a big hurry. Tearing through the dense vegetation like a beast on the prowl. A tall dark shadow, unrecognizable to someone with images of wild animals coming for them, finally broke through the small clearing where Sarah was hiding.

  She quickly pulled her head back and plastered herself against the tree, praying she blended in enough so she wasn’t visible. She held her breath, too afraid to call out in case it wasn’t Clint. The sound of snapping twigs caused a shiver of fear down her spine. As the sound came closer, her fingers curled around something on the ground.

  “You can come out now.”

  Clint! Thank God!

  Relieved, she quickly got to her feet and moved out from behind the tree, never so happy to see anyone. “How did you catch up to me so fast?” Her first instinct was to rush into his arms, but she held back, knowing she wouldn’t find comfort there. Clint was a man of war and death and probably wouldn’t understand her need for reassurance.

  “You don’t run all that fast,” he reminded her in a slightly breathless tone. “What do you have in your hand?”

  “A stick. I thought an animal was chasing me.” She dropped it to the ground.

  “That wouldn’t have offered you much protection against an animal.” He pivoted and began walking, obviously expecting her to follow him. “We still have a way to go before stopping for the night.”

  “There’s more than one kind of animal out there,” she said in her defense, referring to the two-legged kind. She would have used her stick on either one if it meant the difference between life and death. “What happened back there? You weren’t gone very long. Did you get the bad guys?”

  A mocking chuckle escaped him, his tone revealing more than words. “There was only one, probably a scout. What do you think?”

  “We’re not running anymore,” she pointed out, careful to keep her voice as low as his. “Did you…” Did she really want to know whether or not he’d killed someone? She’d already seen him in action once.

  A disgusted snort escaped Clint. “Do you think I left him tied up to a fucking tree for his friends to find later?” The grit underlining his steel-laced words was a clear warning that he’d done what had to be done, and it had been done to save her butt.

  “I suppose you had to kill him?”

  “Sarah, I don’t like killing anyone unless I absolutely have no choice. Use your fucking head for once. Leaving him alive could mean the difference between life and death for us. Hasn’t it sunk in yet that this is for real? We’re not playing some sort of fucking survival game where the winners walk away with a million bucks. Those guns are spitting out real bullets and will leave you resembling Swiss cheese in a heartbeat.” He paused before asking, “What would you have done?”

  Sarah contemplated her response. There was no way she could ever take another life. “I would have probably tied him up and taken his gun away.” Even to her ears it sounded lame.

  “Just what I thought. You should have blown his fucking head off. These people are pissed. If they catch us, you can bet they’re going to hurt us.” He sounded annoyed at her. “We still have some ground to cover before we can stop for the night. Once our friend is discovered back there, it will send up a warning flag about our location which we don’t need since we still have a long way to go before we’re safely on that plane tomorrow.” He turned and started walking.

  “How much ground?” She didn’t know how much further she could go before collapsing.

  “About an hour before we reach the outcropping of boulders that will serve as our hotel room for the night.”

  They broke through the jungle, and Clint was forced to stop when they came to a lake, almost slipping on the slimy bank. He managed to right himself before going down.

  Behind him, Sarah gasped before asking the obvious, “How are we going to get around that?”

  He didn’t bother looking at her. “It will take too long to go around. We’re going to cross it.”

  Cross it? Sarah glanced back at the massive blackness before them, the moon shining on its surface like a giant white plate. Lord knew she could use a bath, but if Clint thought she was going into the water, in the dark, he was crazier than she thought. She immediately thought about the possibility of alligators.

  “There’s no way I’m going in there,” she balked, turning to go back the way she’d come. Suddenly, her chances with Raul didn’t seem as bleak. Besides, she’d much rather die by gunshot than being eaten alive by an alligator.

  “Sarah…”

  She ignored the threat she detected in his tone, not bothering to look back at him. “No, I mean it, Clint. I’m not going.” There was nothing he could say that was going to change her mind, either. “You might as well kill me now and be done with it because I’m not going swimming tonight.”

  “Fuck!” She heard him curse. “That can be arranged,” he muttered, reaching her within a few strides. His hand curled around her upper arm, and he whipped her around. “Just where the fuck do you think you’re going, angel?” His tone was treacherously soft, yet edged with the steel of a man out to win. Sarah got the impression Clint always won when it mattered.

  She strained against him, trying to pull her arm free. Her eyes shot up to meet the glitter of his in the darkness, panic like she’d never known before welling inside her. You didn’t live in Florida all your life and not become well educated about the dangers of alligators. Sarah had been up close and personal with one when she was nine years old and remembered with stark clarity the day she’d lost her dog to one. “I’m not going into the lake.”

  His fingers relaxed against her arm, but he didn’t release her. “After all your fucking sass and spunk, you’re frightened about crossing a little lake?”

  “It looks like a great big lake to me,” she corrected, her gaze moving past him to the glimmering surface. The panic gripping her body paralyzed her into unusual compliance. She had to make him understand! “Clint…”

  Something in her tone must have finally gotten through to him. “Relax, I don’t want to go in either,” he finally said, downplaying the situation. “I’m not crazy. There could be anything in that water. There’s another way.”

  “How?” She was thinking along the lines of lying on top of his body and using him as a surfboard. That might work. She let him pull her along until they stopped at the water’s edge again. He glanced down along the bank. What were they looking for? “What?”

  She frowned when her eyes adjusted to their surroundings, examining the faint outline of a raft. It only seemed big enough for one person. Clint would fill it to capacity. It was a pitiful excuse for any kind of watercraft. A rat would be able to bite through it without any problem. “Doesn’t look like much,” she observed.

  “It floats,” he was quick to point out.

  “With both of us in it?”
she said with disbelief. “Can you blow it up any bigger?”

  Chapter Nine

  Clint burst out laughing, shaking his head at her naiveté. He knew Sarah was serious, but her comment only reminded him they were from different worlds. He’d be smart to keep thinking that way. A moment ago, the overwhelming urge to take her into his arms and soothe away her fears had scared him, making him that much more determined to remain on guard. He couldn’t afford to let her burrow under his skin.

  He got the impression Sarah didn’t like being told to do anything. Her independent nature had certainly been made clear from the start. Plus she was a fighter. Not the short-cropped hair, macho type females he’d known through the years. Sarah was feminine on the outside, yet tough as nails on the inside. He wondered what made her so scrappy. For some reason the thought that she co-owned, of all things, a florist shop with Susan put a smile on his face.

  He couldn’t picture her standing behind a counter taking flower orders. That seemed too tame for her. A better job for her grit would be tending bar somewhere. Yeah, he could see her popping a beer bottle over the head of some unruly patron. The thought made him grin. Her silence reminded him she was waiting for a response.

  “Sorry, angel, I left my bicycle pump at home.” He stepped into the water, placing the raft in front of him. “Get in.” He sensed her unwillingness.

  “You have boots on. I don’t want to get my sneakers wet again.”

  She didn’t want to get her feet wet? She was stalling and he knew it. Shaking his head with mild irritation, he picked her up before she could protest, depositing her unceremoniously in the bottom of the boat. “Women!” he swore under his breath. “You’re covered with fucking dirt and mud and probably have bugs crawling all over you.” A wicked thought prompted him in asking, “You don’t feel anything crawling around down there, do you?”

  “What?” Sarah squirmed wildly around the bottom of the raft until his low chuckle caused her to halt. “You have a warped sense of humor,” she muttered, not amused.