by Molly E. Lee
“It’ll be dark soon,” Dash said from in front of me.
I arched my neck, squinting at the sun that penetrated in beams through the lush canopy above us. “Can you smell that, too?” I asked, jolting slightly as my gaze upward landed on an animal with coarse beige fur and long claws hooked around a high tree branch. It hung upside-down, a tiny carbon copy of itself sleeping soundly on the sloth’s belly.
Dash glanced over his shoulder, regaining my attention. “If it has to do with the sky, the subtle changes in it, then yes. I can feel it.” He shrugged. “That and we’ve been hiking for over four hours.”
I managed to huff something that resembled a laugh, but instantly regretted it. There was nothing funny about the mission we were on now. Before, we could joke and give shit all we wanted. Now we had to focus.
“We keep moving until we can’t see anymore,” Easton said, not stopping when Dash and I had paused to take precious swigs of water from our bottles. We were rationing our provisions, per Easton’s orders, and each sweet swallow of warm water was a blessing I hadn’t known existed.
Wade halted at the front of our tightly packed line, and Dash and I took the few strides needed to stick close to him. He dropped to his knees for what seemed the hundredth time on our trek, each time resulting in a subtle shift in direction, this way or that. Everything looked the same to me—unknown and untouched. Alluring and deadly.
The rainforest seemed to me to be a slice of the earth that had remained unfucked with. The place was so fierce you were lucky enough to survive a visit, let alone adapt to its conditions when you lived here, as so many cultures had, according to Easton. I didn’t know how Wade was capable of deciphering the difference between a fallen branch and something that had been run into by a human, but I was glad for it. Easton was more than grateful for it, too. He hung on every word or movement Wade provided, and suddenly the stuntman, who had seemed out of place in the beginning of our trip, had become the hero out of us all.
“Huh,” Wade said, grunting as he stood, turning to face the rest of us.
“What is it?” Easton asked, his tone frantic as his eyes searched the area behind Wade. “Is it cold?”
Wade shook his head. “There are two trails now. I can’t tell if they split up or if one is from another set of people entirely.” He pointed behind him and to the left. “That way leads to a much clearer path.” He shifted to narrow his gaze that direction. “It looks almost like a manmade clearing, which could have offered Corrine and her crew an easy traveling path, or it’s unrelated to them.” He pointed behind him and to the right. “This is a much more difficult path to take. One like we’ve already been on for hours. Uneven terrain, very little wiggle room, creatures of terrifying deadliness.”
“And you’re sure there are two sets of tracks?” Easton asked, clearly torn between the two options.
Couldn’t we have one crystal-clear path that practically screamed for us to run down it and save the girl? Fuck, what kind of adventure was this? They never seemed this exhausted in the movies.
“Absolutely,” Wade answered him, and a deep sigh dropped his chest. Thank God he was feeling the strain of the hike, too. For a second there, I was starting to feel old and my muscles were cut out of the force of the ocean. “Maybe we should make camp here as best we can for tonight, think about our options, and hit it hard at dawn.”
Easton shook his head back and forth, too quickly, like he was broken. He stepped around Wade, pacing between the two options, his eyes swallowing both directions as if he wished he could split himself in two and go both routes.
“Hey,” I said, the idea springing forth. “What if we split up? Two go down option one, the others go down option two?”
“No.” Wade shut me down quick. Dick. “Sorry, but no one else knows how to track like I do. Just like I don’t know shit about surviving under any sort of circumstances, let alone a fucking jungle.”
Damn. He had a point.
“Let’s camp. We aren’t going to get far in the dark, Easton.” Wade stopped Easton’s pacing, forcing him to look him in the eyes.
“I. Can’t. Stop.” The words were said through clenched teeth. It looked like someone was tasing Easton, or as if he’d stepped on the electric eel that had gotten Wade.
Would I be able to stop, either? If it were Sadie? Fuck no. I highly doubted Dash would be able to either if it were Blake. And though I’d grown fond of Wade, I didn’t think he had a clue how Easton was feeling. If he was, he hadn’t given us that intel, and now sure as hell wasn’t the time to push for it.
“We get it,” I said, eyeing Dash to back me up. “You know we do, Easton.”
Dash nodded.
“We won’t stop,” I continued and Wade’s eyes widened. They silently communicated all the ways in which he thought I was wrong. And maybe I was. Maybe continuing would get us all killed, but maybe it wouldn’t. I knew for certain that we’d have to tie Easton to a tree to keep him here. He’d wait until we’d fallen asleep and bolt, tracker or no tracker. His heart had been taken from him, and there was no reasoning with a man in that state of mind. “Let’s stop for a break, though.” I raised my hands when Easton glared at me. “Just enough to eat something and drink a little more. You won’t be good for her if you’re dehydrated and not one hundred percent.”
“You’d be surprised what all I can accomplish without water,” he said like I was supposed to know what that meant.
“I have no doubt.” I shrugged. “An hour, man. That’s all I’m asking. Let us get replenished before we push ourselves through the jungle when everything at night comes out to eat.” I pointed at him. “Your words, not mine.”
Something clicked behind his eyes and he nodded. “One hour. I’m not capable of stopping for longer.”
“Understood,” I said and slipped my pack off my back. The lack of weight on my shoulders was a welcomed relief, as was the PowerBar I tore into moments later. We sat, drinking and chewing, plotting and thinking. Lost in our own thoughts. Mine were on Sadie. I imagined Dash was with Blake somewhere, and no doubt Easton could only see Rain.
“This could get us killed, you know?” Wade whispered after he’d come to sit next to me.
And then there was Wade, who clearly was thinking the most logically out of all of us. “I know,” I said, taking another bite.
“And you don’t care?”
“’Course I care.” I eyed Easton, who wore a glazed-over look as he absently chewed his food. “But he won’t stay put, and I’m not comfortable with taking a nap while he rushes the jungle without us.”
Wade crumpled up his empty wrapper and shoved it in his pack. “Going to be hard as hell to track in the dark.”
“I know, bro. I just don’t see any other way.”
“We could knock him out,” Wade said and his tone was so even for a minute I thought he was serious. Then that small smirk of his shaped his lips and I let out the breath I’d been holding.
“The man is suffering enough.”
“I know,” Wade said. “I get that you guys think I’m an asshole who can’t possibly understand how he feels, but I do.” With that he pushed off the ground and walked past Easton. “Going to scout ahead for any more points that show a favorable path while there is light. I’ll stay within sight.”
Easton nodded but didn’t say a word.
After another thirty minutes, which I spent stretching my wire-tight muscles, the sun had fully set and the jungle was submerged in darkness. Sure, the bright white light of the moon breaking through the canopy offered us some visibility, but not much. Dash wasn’t twelve feet across from me and I was having a hard time making out his form.
Wade hadn’t returned yet.
“Can anyone see him?” I asked as Dash and I had stood to meet Easton where he’d continued pacing.
“No.” Easton raked his hands over his head, having stored his hat in his pack now that the sun no longer beat down upon us, but his GoPro was secured above his head with
the strap, same as mine, same as Dash’s. Easton had said we had to keep rolling, as the footage could be useful later. I didn’t know if that meant by putting the people responsible behind bars for good, or finding the same spots again, or what, but I did what I was told. And while I was grateful for the much cooler temp of the night, I wasn’t so happy about not being able to see clearly what was around my feet. Or above my head, for that matter. I could hear perfectly fine, though, and with each new sound I assumed it was attached to something that wanted to kill me. I wished the GoPros had blaring lights along with them as opposed to the night-vision optional ones that Easton had gotten. “Damn it. He said he would stay in view. Try the radio.”
“Wade.” I unclicked the button on the radio.
The line was silent, but the jungle seemed to be screaming with sounds unlike that during the day. A call of a bird, the shrill squeak of something being eaten slowly, the scurrying of tiny claws on tree bark. Fuck, it made me want to sit by a bright roaring fire until the sun came back. Which, I was sure, is what any group of sane people would do. As it was, we weren’t all that together at the moment, and the one person who had the most sense about us had vanished.
Fucking brilliant.
After another four attempts to get Wade on the radio, a dark, piercing sense of fear slipped into my chest. It was then that I realized—when I actually thought Wade might have been eaten by a giant anaconda or some other ungodly creature that thrived in this jungle—how devastated I would be at losing any one of them. I don’t know when this special turned into a bromance, but I couldn’t deny the terror ripping through my blood at losing another part of our crew.
The tension grew as the seconds ticked by, and though the jungle was alive with sound, one crackling was enough to snap all of us to attention. The sound was quickly followed by a bright orange light that flickered in the distance to our left, and it grew closer until it was clear what it was—a lit torch and an intimidating as hell looking half-naked dude.
The whites of his eyes were wide and sharp, taking in each of us as we waited in silence, the flame illuminating his sculpted body that was twice the size of mine. I didn’t have Wade’s cockiness, but I knew I was ripped. This guy? Fucking forget about it. We were all about to die.
A shuffling of more sets of footsteps sounded behind him, and soon, more torches lit the small area where we’d stopped to rest. At least fifty men stood at the man’s back, wearing the same thick animal-skin cloth over their lower area and nothing else. White dots of paint decorated their faces, standing out against the smooth ebony, but no two designs were alike. They weren’t smiling, but they weren’t glaring either. They seemed more indifferent than anything at our presence and I wondered if we’d unknowingly stumbled across their territory.
“Man of the Eastern Wells,” the leader—or who I assumed was the leader—said in slanted English, his accent so unique that I had a hard time comparing it to anything I’d ever heard before. “Long time.”
Easton tried at a smile, but the man was broken. Anyone could tell.
“Cualli, I apologize for not making us known before now. I hadn’t realized we’d gotten so close to your border.”
The man jerked his head toward his men. “Come. We have your friend.”
Easton flinched, his eyes darting to me and then Dash before nodding. “Of course.”
“You know him?” I whispered as I fell into step behind him.
Easton gave me one nod, and without taking his eyes off the backs of the men who led us down the path that Wade had said looked manmade, whispered, “You won’t be accepted by association. You’ll have to prove it. Same way I did.”
“What?”
“If you don’t,” he continued, ignoring my question, “they’ll see our trying to leave as disrespectful. And we don’t want that.”
“We don’t have time—”
“I know that. Doesn’t matter. If they have Wade, we have to do this.”
I rubbed my palms over my face, glancing at Dash, who looked as confused as I did.
After walking the winding path for what felt like an hour, we came upon a community carved right out of the jungle. Huts, fires, and fenced animals made up the small congregation, and even more men, women, and children were up and socializing as we were brought inside the tribe’s community, their chatter adding to the sounds of the jungle.
Scanning the area, I saw no sign of Wade.
“Easton,” I whisper-hissed, but he shook his head, barely perceptible to anyone but me. A handful of men led Easton one direction—toward a fire pit that was currently roasting something that smelled better than bacon. My mouth watered, and I had a hard time not rushing after Easton just to get a taste of it. The larger than life man before me, urging me toward another area, is what stopped me.
Two strong hands at my back shoved me into a flat circular area blocked off by smoothly shaved logs. More men and women sat on them, as if waiting for a show to start. Dash was tossed in beside me, and I cocked an eyebrow at him. When another man started taking my pack from my back, I actually snarled.
“Don’t,” Easton called, and I found him stuffing his face behind one of the log-seats, grease dribbling down his chin.
What the fuck, man? I was about to voice the question, but the warning in his already broken eyes shut me down.
“You want food? You want the safety of our community? Earn it.” The leader spoke again and I wondered if anyone outside of us could understand him. Surely, that was the case, as some of them snickered.
I bit down on my tongue to keep from snapping that I hadn’t asked him for a fucking thing, that he’d brought me here. This wasn’t my home, though, not even close. The jungle belonged to him—I was sure he’d been king for centuries—so I kept my mouth shut.
Dash looked to be on the same line of thinking, but then something passed over his face and he sighed. What had he got that I hadn’t?
“Get ready to brawl,” he said in a voice so low only I could hear it.
“What?”
“Some cultures, especially tribal ones, demand a sacrifice in order to be accepted as one of them.” He motioned to the two young guns walking toward us. Each was decorated with white paint and visible scars that taunted us under the firelights.
“You’re fucking kidding me.” We would have to fight them? “What will it prove?”
“That we’re honorable. That we’re strong. That we don’t expect handouts.”
Slowly, I reached behind me to resecure my hair in its tie. Fuck my life. We needed to be looking for Wade and booking it out of here to find Rain. Easton knew this, but from his position, eating away, it didn’t look like there was a choice. If there was, I knew he would’ve taken it. And if stepping into the ring with these two would get us out of here quicker, then so fucking be it.
I cracked my neck. “How did you get all that?” I asked Dash, wondering how he understood and I hadn’t.
“Blake likes the Discovery Channel.”
I rolled my eyes.
“If it helps, think of him as a shark, Aquaman.” Wade’s voice rang clear and loud above the crowd that had gathered around the circle, and my eyes instantly snapped to him. He’d taken a seat next to Easton, his lips swollen and cracked, dried blood on his chin, and his shirt torn. I couldn’t imagine what other damage had been done, but clearly he’d passed because he was handed a plate of food, which he instantly tore into.
“So, not to the death then,” I muttered to Dash, and he shook his head as he bounced on the balls of his feet like this was a damned boxing match.
As if a bell had been rung, the two massive young guns charged us at the same time, and when mine barreled into my chest, taking me to the ground quicker than I could blink, I lost sight of Dash. All I could see was the big guy’s clenched fist darting toward my face faster than a cobra strike. I just barely dodged it, slipping out from underneath his considerable weight and springing back up to my feet. Sucking in a deep breath, I winced, certa
in from the sharp pain that stung my side that he’d cracked one of my ribs.
Adrenaline rushed through my veins, and as the crowd cheered or hissed at the brawl going on next to me, I tuned it out and cracked a right hook across my opponent’s jaw. The tree of the man’s body didn’t budge, but his face snapped to the side and he spit blood on the dirt beneath us before smiling.
Then he punched me in the gut with a meaty fist and air whooshed out of my lungs, the sting already present turning to a full-on sear.
All this for food?
No, for Rain. That’s what this was about. The faster we were accepted in the tribe, the sooner we could respectfully get back on the trail. That’s why Easton watched from the sidelines. That’s why there wasn’t an option. Well then.
I ducked out from under another tackle attempt, bringing up my knee at the perfect time to snap his chin. He stumbled where he stood, clearly stunned. He quickly regained his footing, swiping my legs out from underneath me, and I once again met the ground. Damn, these guys were fast.
A large foot nearly crushed my skull, but I rolled just enough to miss it. I lashed upward, hitting him with an uppercut as I regained my standing position. My fist connected with his jaw, the same spot I’d kneed, and his head snapped backward. For all of five seconds he wavered where he stood, the dizziness of a headshot causing him to struggle to stay vertical. I didn’t wait. One good shove and he was on his back. I quickly stood over him, my fist cranked back and ready to throw the final blow that would leave him dreaming of the night sky for hours.
I drew down with the punch, stopping a centimeter before I met his face. My chest rose and fell rapidly, each breath accelerating the ache in my side. Definitely a cracked rib. That was fucking perfect.
The man’s eyes widened as he stared at my shaking fist. I could’ve done it, but I didn’t want to break my hand or this man’s spirit. Instead, I uncurled my fist, and offered him my palm. He took it after a moment’s hesitation and I helped him up.