by Robyn Nyx
Chase returned to Pablo’s makeshift stretcher and tied off the last knot around to make sure the tarp was secure around his body. She sealed a small gap with yet another piece of duct tape to make sure nothing could get inside. Rayne had been almost hysterically insistent that they couldn’t bury or leave Pablo’s body there. Chase hadn’t protested; taking him with them seemed like the only option and the decent thing to do. She hadn’t known Pablo for that long, but she didn’t want to think of him being eaten post-mortem by jaguars, snakes, and insects. Carrying him with them would slow them down considerably, but they were in no real hurry anyway. They had the three pieces the map had led them to, and the journey to the cave promised to be only a relatively short way from the third tree. Turner and Owen’s imminent arrival was a double-edged sword. They’d get Effi and the tank twins back but would have to give up the Trinity…unless they could figure out a way to keep it from them and still rescue their trio. Maybe the old women had some magic up their sleeves they could share…
“Ready?” she asked.
Rayne rose from her position on the ground. “Almost.”
Chase smiled, but the atmosphere shrouded them both in unspoken sadness. Chase strapped the original map and its case to the stretcher she’d made slightly longer than Pablo’s body to accommodate it. Now it seemed they were only transporting the artifact so that they could get it home. Thus far, it hadn’t been needed. The laminated copy had gotten them where they needed to be and continued to do so now that they were on their way to the cave.
“This way?” Rayne pointed upstream.
Chase nodded. “We’ll run parallel to it, but let’s stay away from the edge.” Chase had expected trouble with snakes at the second tree, not this one. Anaconda attacks on humans were rare. While it was unlikely to happen again, Chase didn’t want to take any chances. She saw Rayne clench her jaw, but she didn’t respond.
Rayne led the way, following Chase’s directions, and other than those instructions, there was very little conversation. Rayne seemed particularly introspective, and Chase didn’t quite know what to say. She’d never lost anyone close to her so she couldn’t empathize with any authority. All of those hackneyed clichés about being in a better place and God having a plan had always seemed trite and lacked veracity. So Chase simply let Rayne be what she needed to be. Silent.
After a few miles, Chase needed to rest from pulling Pablo. He wasn’t heavy, but negotiating the wooden stretcher over the jungle terrain was awkward and tiring.
Rayne settled on a rock and patted the space beside her. “Would you like some water?”
Chase licked her dry lips and realized she’d become a little hydrated. “Sure.”
Rayne pulled a water bottle from her pack and offered it to Chase as she sat on the rock. “Bet you’re wishing you’d stuck to your guns and not come with me…”
Chase turned to look at Rayne. She put the water bottle down and took Rayne’s face in her hands. “No, babe. Not at all.” She kissed Rayne’s forehead. “I don’t want to be anywhere else in the world.” She kissed her nose. “I want to be right by your side.” Now and always? Chase kissed Rayne, and she responded, pulling Chase closer. Chase ran her hands over Rayne’s back and rested on her hips.
Rayne withdrew and looked at Chase, her expression serious. “This was supposed to be a lot easier than how it turned out.”
Chase smiled and caressed Rayne’s cheek. “It’s not over yet.”
Rayne puffed out her cheeks. “You think it can get worse?”
“God, I hope not.” In all probability, it was going to get worse, but Rayne didn’t need to hear that, not when her dead friend was wrapped up in a tarp a few feet away and her bodyguards were in the hands of a psychopath. Shit had definitely gone sideways. Chase had never envisaged it being just the two of them finding the Golden Trinity. Chase thought about the old women again. She didn’t want to dismiss their utterings as crazy talk, but she was struggling to grasp how Turner would be disappointed by the Trinity…and how they were supposed to stop him, Owen, and their team of armed assholes.
Rayne put her finger beneath Chase’s chin and lifted it up to face her. “Where’s your head at?”
Chase took Rayne’s finger and kissed it. “I’m thinking about the future…and where this adventure leaves us.” It wasn’t a complete lie. At the back of her mind, since they’d had sex in the middle of the night, their future—if they had one—had been a constant question.
Rayne withdrew her finger, picked up her water bottle, and gave it to Chase once more. “Where do you want it to leave us?”
“In a better place than we were before.” Chase emptied half the bottle in a few swallows and passed it back to Rayne. She’d finally let Rayne’s betrayal go and it had liberated her, allowing her to move forward freely. “We should purify some more water while we’ve got it running past us so freely.”
“Good idea.” Rayne drank the rest of the bottle before retrieving the Guardian purifier from one of her packs.
She wandered over to the water’s edge. The snake attack still fresh in her mind, Chase quickly joined her, rifle at the ready, safety off. They said nothing while Rayne dipped the pipe into the stream and pumped it into their bottles. When she was done, they retreated back to the rock and packed the bottles.
Chase laid her rifle on the ground and pulled Rayne into her arms. She sensed that she’d have to be the one to open up her heart. If she was waiting for Rayne to offer up her true feelings first, Chase would likely be disappointed. “Are you ready to find that better place?” She was all too aware that Rayne carried her history with her and let it inform her present and future in unhealthy ways. She didn’t have to be a psychotherapist to know that. Unlimited, shallow dalliances with sexual partners; no close friends with whom she trusted her secrets and her fears; no emotional connections to speak of at all. Rayne had the tank twins and clearly their adoration, but they were on her payroll. It was only during this adventure that Rayne had appeared to begin exploring the possibilities of deeper relationships. Chase felt Rayne smile against her chest.
“You know, I pay damn good money to a Harvard-educated therapist. You shouldn’t have to ‘therapize’ me too.”
Chase laughed and held up her hands. “Busted…” She pulled Rayne back in. “Well? Are you?”
“I think so…I hope so. This has been a relatively short trip, but I’ve learned a lot about myself, about what I actually want from this life.” She traced small circles on Chase’s chest as she spoke. “About what I need.”
Rayne looked up, and once again, Chase saw the vulnerable beautiful soul that Rayne really was, the person she’d hidden and kept protected from the world. She slipped her hand around the back of Rayne’s neck and kissed her, hoping that everything she felt for Rayne could be conveyed between their lips.
“Aww, isn’t that just such a pretty picture?”
Chase had never seen Turner or heard his voice, but she guessed it was him. They both turned to see a posse of people behind them. Chase glanced at her rifle and back up at the group. This wasn’t a time for suicidal heroics. She didn’t make a grab for it. “That was a helluva kiss not to hear all these people stomping through the jungle twenty feet behind us,” Chase muttered to Rayne.
Rayne smiled then faced Turner. “I’d say it was lovely to see you again, but it isn’t…so I won’t.”
Turner held his hands to his chest. “That hurts, Rayne. What have I ever done to you other than offer an extremely lucrative contract?”
As he spoke, Chase felt like a thousand leeches were crawling all over her body, and she shivered. Turner’s creepiness reached her even though he stood twenty feet away. Chase took a moment to assess his group. She recognized the guy from the bar in Tabatinga and his three flunkies. Nose-ring woman was still sporting a fading black eye, which Chase found surprisingly satisfying. There was one other guy but no sign of the tank twins or their guide. All of Turner’s people were armed with a machete, a gun, or
both.
“Where are Ginn, Tonyck, and Effi?” Rayne asked.
Turner smirked. “Your bodyguards are with Owen, where they’ll remain until you come through on your half of the deal. Effi is right here.”
He stepped sideways and she came into view. Chase could see she didn’t seem to be restrained in any way.
Turner tilted his head in Chase’s direction and laughed. “Looking for signs that Effi is my prisoner?”
He put his arm around her and pulled her close. She didn’t resist. In fact, she put her arm around his waist.
“What the hell?” Rayne took a step forward.
“Effi works for me, Rayne. Not you. She never worked for you…or Pablo Araújo.” Turner reached for the guy from the bar. “Speaking of him, Nicolai still wants his piece of whatever it was you paid him to get you upriver. Effi tells us he was with you and didn’t stay with the boat she sabotaged, so where is he?”
Chase reeled from the revelation that Effi had played them and sabotaged the boat, forcing them into the jungle…clearly so she could lead Tonyck straight into an ambush and weaken their team. Rayne went to move forward. Chase felt her anger and stopped her from advancing. Turner needed them to lead him to the Trinity, but that might not keep him from hurting Rayne, given the opportunity.
Chase motioned to Pablo’s body. “Anaconda attack.”
Effi laughed, and Rayne struggled against Chase’s grip on her wrist.
“You fucking bitch.” Rayne stayed put, but she didn’t hold back a verbal attack. “He was your friend.”
Effi shook her head. “I don’t have any friends. But if I did, I wouldn’t have chosen some skinny runt widow with a bad habit of dishing out pseudo-philosophical bullshit.”
Chase liked Pablo’s jungle philosophy. Now she felt the need to slap Effi down. She resisted, hoping she’d get a chance to make her pay for it later.
Rayne stopped straining against Chase and squeezed her hand. “She doesn’t get away with that,” Rayne whispered quietly enough so that only Chase heard.
“No. She definitely doesn’t.”
Turner motioned to Pablo’s body. “You’re carrying him with you so that you can give him a proper burial?” Rayne nodded. “At least you have some honor…”
“You’re holding on to the fact that Rayne stole the map from you like you’re some paragon of propriety. But you’re not.” Chase waved her hand at Turner dismissively. “You’re a thief, a criminal.” Chase recalled the article she’d read about families of orangutans being slaughtered by illegal loggers. “And probably a murderer. Where do you get off acting high and mighty and beyond reproach?”
Turner chuckled and stepped closer to them, and the whole group followed as one. “We had a compact, a gentleman’s agreement. There is supposed to be honor among thieves. If we don’t have that, then we are just unruly and lawless thugs.” He raised an eyebrow, removed his hat, swept his hand through his hair, and replaced it carefully, just so. “I wouldn’t expect you to understand, Ms. Stinsen. You’re not like us. You don’t live and move in our world.” He shook his head and smirked as he moved forward to within spitting distance of them. “You shouldn’t really be here, but Rayne isn’t all she professes to be, is she? She needed you because she wasn’t good enough. She couldn’t do the job I was paying her to do.”
Rayne slapped him, hard, before Chase could react and stop her. Turner held his jaw before he smiled and took a step back.
“Hit a nerve, did I?”
“I said I’d get the job done. I never said anything about the team I’d use.”
Turner had triggered Rayne, though he probably had no idea why his words struck so deeply. Chase knew the accusation of not being good enough, simply not being enough was a scar she carried from childhood. “I want to be here,” Chase said. “And Rayne is nothing like you.”
Turner shrugged. “Whatever. Enough of this chitchat. You have to lead me to what’s rightfully mine.” He poked Chase in the chest then turned to his heavies and motioned to Rayne. “Tie this one up. She’s like a wild animal.”
Chase had pushed down the desire to break Turner’s finger when he prodded her in the chest. She’d always hated that for reasons she’d never pinned down. His sense of entitlement to the treasure irritated her even more.
Nicolai stepped forward. “That would be my pleasure,” he said, touching his nose.
“Still sore from getting a beatdown from a girl?” Rayne asked.
He curled his upper lip. “When Mr. Turner is finished with you, we will have a rematch.”
He pulled Rayne’s arms behind her and secured her wrists with paracord. He held on to the considerable length remaining and tugged it. “On a leash, just like a bitch should be.”
Rayne jerked forward, but he jumped out of the way and laughed.
“I’m assuming you’re able to navigate and convey your friend’s body?” Turner asked.
“Yeah, I can.” Chase felt a certain responsibility to ensure Pablo’s corpse was respectfully treated. She had no intention of letting anyone else pull the stretcher. They wouldn’t be as careful as she’d been so far.
“Tia, José. Remove their machetes and pick up the extra packs.” He pointed to the original map on Pablo’s stretcher. “It’s good that you’ve brought my map. I would’ve hated to have to send Owen to pick it up from San Fran after this little adventure is over…Let’s go.”
Nicolai tugged Rayne away after her machete had been taken. Chase clenched and unclenched her fists before giving up her own machete. She gathered her packs and moved to Pablo’s stretcher. She picked up the rope and began to pull. The cave was another half day’s trek at the pace she could manage. Maybe that’d give her the time to figure out their ingenious escape plan…
Chapter Thirty-one
Every bug in the Amazon had received the memo that Rayne was unable to defend herself against them. With her hands tied behind her back, her only option was to employ a Parkinson’s disease-like tic to keep them from feasting on her flesh. Every hour or so, Chase had stopped moving forward to insist on giving Rayne water. Turner had allowed it, and she was grateful he wasn’t being a complete asshole. In between those small and welcome exchanges with Chase, Rayne had retreated internally in an effort not to focus on the insects, or the humidity, or the distinct discomfort from her boots. Instead she used the time to drift off and think about all the things she wanted to do to and with Chase if they got out of this in one piece. Now, she’d decided to continue an imaginary conversation with Chase that picked up where Turner had interrupted them.
“I need you, Chase. It feels like I might always have needed you, but I was too much of a coward to entertain that idea, never mind embrace it. Needing someone feels like a weakness, like not being a whole person without you is a failure…I can’t be a failure, Chase. But I can’t be without you.”
Rayne sighed. She should have said all that and more after the third tree. They’d had the time to talk, but Pablo’s death had hit hard. Instead of talking about it, which might easily have led to talking about where she and Chase might lead, Rayne held her own internal monologue. And in her head, it was simple and so easy to talk about her feelings and emotions, her fears and her hopes, even her dreams. None of which she’d ever shared with anyone other than her therapist. If she were being totally honest with herself, she’d never completely cooperated with her therapist either. Chase made her feel safe in ways she never knew existed and made sharing her truth a real probability, not just a vague possibility.
Rayne brought herself back to reality and looked at Chase from behind. Her shirt was drenched in sweat and stuck to her body. Rayne could admire the bunching and relaxing of her back muscles visible around her pack as she pulled the stretcher. Pablo. Rayne closed her eyes briefly. It was small comfort that he might have rejoined his family and left no one else behind to increase Rayne’s guilt.
“This should be it.” Chase stopped, dropped the stretcher rope, and tossed her packs to t
he ground.
They’d come to a small clearing before the rise of what Rayne could only describe as a cliff face. Lupuna trees, sixty feet tall, patrolled its base and reached up to the sky, almost in prayer. Chase unrolled the map copy and studied it for a long moment before she rolled it back up and stuffed it in the leg pocket of her cargo pants. She approached the trees, and Turner followed. Nicolai tugged on Rayne’s rope, and she briefly wondered how easy it might be to flip the slack around his throat and pull until he fell unconscious.
“I need Rayne. I can’t do this without her.” Chase stuffed her hands in her pockets as if to emphasize she was done unless she got what she wanted.
Turner nodded to his goons, and they trained their rifles on Chase. “Do not try to fuck me…Let her go.”
Nicolai roughly untied her before shoving her forward. Rayne rubbed her wrists as she strode across the clearing to join Chase. “You need me?” she asked, unconvinced.
Chase nodded. “I do. You’re an expert with the Mayan supernatural world. I’m not. And I need your analytical brain to work this riddle out.” She pulled out the map, knelt down, and opened it across the ground. Rayne joined her. “The map says there are stone plaques all around here carved with the heads of gods and ways—”
“Spirit companions.”
“Great.” Chase pointed at a section on the map. “But this doesn’t tell us which ones to follow. They were color coded to give directions to the next one.”