by Aliyah Burke
A sharp chuckle escaped before he reclined back, hands laced behind his head, and with a deep breath, one that filled him with the heavy air, he closed his eyes and accepted the sleep that he’d been holding at bay. Even so, he never fully went out, his preservation instinct alive and kicking. Therefore, when Deek stepped into the room, Caleb was immediately fully aware of his every movement.
“Got some food for you. Then we’ll go.”
“Be right there,” he said, opening his eyes. He rolled to his feet and gathered his bags. Deek had a simple and hearty meal on the table where they ate in silence.
“Do you have any clippers?” Caleb asked once the meal was over.
“Knocking off the fuzz?” He nodded and ran a hand over his head. “Hang on.” Deek left and came back with one in his hands. “Sit here, kid. I’ll get you right.”
Listening, he moved and held still while this virtual stranger took down his hair. When it was over, he ran a hand along his nearly shorn scalp.
“Thanks.”
“Need a mirror?”
“Nope. Feels fine, skin on sides and back, and real short on top.” He shrugged. “Works for me.”
“Let’s go then. Leave the dishes, I’ll get them later.”
Without argument, he hoisted his bags and dropped them in the truck at his feet. The ride back to the airport even more harrowing than the first time because it was dark and yet people still walked the road. There was lots of fishtailing, cursing, and rut jumping before they slid to a stop near a plane that looked like a relic.
“Let’s go.”
Caleb grabbed his gear and moved closer to the rust bucket. Great, I’ll probably die before we get off the ground. Does thing even fly?
A light shone down, and he glanced up to see Deek staring at him.
“Don’t let her looks fool you. This broad’s the best. We’ll get you up there in no time.”
Tossing his bags in, Caleb kept his suspicion to himself. He was surprised—pleasantly so—when the plane started without a hitch. A short roll before they coasted down the runway and took to the moonless night sky.
He moved to the back and got his gear ready, the smaller bag in the larger one, and his chute secure. Then he sat down and waited. The only light came from the console and in the almost total pitch-blackness; he reached in a pocket of his BDU’s and ran his fingers along the bracelet Kami had sent.
Thoughts of what she could be going through sent bolts of rage through him with the speed of an anti-aircraft gun. His grip tightened around the pendant.
Be smart, Kami. Be alive. Just stay alive.
If there was one thing that didn’t mesh well with Kami, it was being bossed around. She was a headstrong woman who never faced an argument she didn’t meet head-on, or a dare she didn’t think she could best. But to get in her face was a sure way to get her temper—courtesy of her father—up and fully engaged.
It worried him to think what would happen when—not if—she back talked her captors. There was also Missy to consider and how the hell they’d get out of the country. One hurdle at a time. Find her first. Take the rest as it comes.
His thoughts drifted back to Kami. Moreover, the night she offered herself to him.
* * *
“Can I have a word, Caleb?” she’d asked.
With a smile which promised later to the woman he was with he nodded. “Sure.” They walked off to the side and he spent the time desperately trying to get rid of the steel rod he seemed to sport whenever Kami came around.
It angered him, being unable to control his body around her. He ground his jaw and looked at the woman Kamden Strong had become. A young doctor and a true beauty. He continued to call her Kami, partly to get her riled just to see the fireworks in her big dark brown eyes, and partly to try to convince himself she was the little kid from days past.
She stood beside him, clad in an emerald green, one shoulder, and asymmetrical hem dress. Her hair, black with red highlights, had been swept up in some elegant coif. One he wanted to undo so her hair could flow around and over his skin as he pounded into her heat. Her slick, wet heat.
“What?” he barked, unable to quash the edginess in his tone.
“I just wanted to tell you…that…if you wanted to sleep with me, I wouldn’t mind.”
She floored him just as sure as if she’d smacked him with a tire iron. She’s offering herself to me? Despite the question, he knew he shouldn’t be surprised; Kami had always been direct and to the point.
“What?” His question had been more of a babble.
“You heard me. Take me instead of her.”
Her usual smile sat upon her face and her tone stayed low enough to be solely between the two of them. A light touch from her had his smaller head ready to declare mutiny on him and accept her offer.
“Heard yes, but having a hard time believing I heard it.” Hard to think of her even saying such things. His slacks became uncomfortably tight. He noticed both his dad and hers cast a glance in their direction. He wanted her, yes. Nevertheless, he also knew she looked for something long term. He wasn’t in a place to offer that.
“Thanks for the offer, Kami, but I like my women with a bit more experience.”
Pain then fury before nothing flashed through her eyes.
“I didn’t know you were so keen on paying for a woman.” Her words were icy daggers, but the smile on her beautiful face never wavered.
Nip it in the bud. “Get what you pay for,” he drawled.
Deep in her eyes he saw a light go out and he knew he’d hurt her with that.
“So you do.” She paused when the redhead he was with approached. “Good night, Caleb.” With a twirl, she headed off and left him alone staring at her retreating figure. His eyes glued to the gentle sway of her hips, the lingering scent of her tantalizing his nose, and his entire body ready to rip the dress off her and worship her in reality as he’d done so many times in his dreams. The redhead on his arm a sorry replacement.
I’m an idiot.
* * *
“Hey, snap out of it, mate!” Deek’s baritone brought him back to the present and the task at hand.
The bracelet secure back in the pocket, he pushed to his feet. “We there?”
“Yes. I’m going to make one more pass. Dropping you fifteen klicks from where they were spotted last. Wish it could be more accurate, but hell, for all I know you could be landing in the middle of the bastard’s camp.”
He patted the M4 strapped across his chest. “It’d save me the trouble of finding them,” he remarked drolly.
“Sure would. Here we go. Best of luck, mate.”
Caleb slid open the door before moving back toward Deek. “Thanks! If this doesn’t work out, can you tell my uncle I said thanks for everything?” he hollered over the rush of wind.
“Sure thing, but if it’s all the same to you, I’d rather you tell him.”
“Me too.”
Snapping his NVG’s into place, he waited. Below he could see the tree line flying by below him.
“Go. Go. Go!” Deek yelled.
One final deep breath and he pushed out from the plane to begin the hurdle towards earth.
Chapter 4
Kamden knelt by the small vat of tepid water. Every inch of her hurt and her hand shook as she dipped the tattered rag in and ran it over her face, not bothering to wring it out. The brief respite was welcomed—correction, any chance she got to have a moment alone was welcomed.
They moved constantly, never staying in one place very long. Despite that, she’d noticed a pattern of how often they went back to the area she’d come to refer to as their main camp, which was where they were now. Didn’t matter where she was, each night she prayed for this to end. One way or another. These men were ruthless, the women too. They took what they wanted, killing without remorse.
Miraculously, if that’s what it could be called, she had managed to remain untouched. The leader, Sing—for a reason only he knew—had taken a shine to her
and claimed her as his own. It only meant no one would touch her sexually without his permission, for it surely hadn’t stopped the beatings.
Punishment still was doled out on a daily basis. Food was minute and scarce. They did give her water but only after she hauled enough from whatever source they were near for the rest of camp.
Often her thoughts turned to her family. Her parents, Lane and Kenya, and her brother, Asante. How she missed them.
“Hurry!” Sing barked.
Her body didn’t even jump. She stared at her reflection in the water. Her hair was in desperate need of a good wash and deep conditioning treatment. Her eyes had large dark circles under them and appeared sunken. Numerous bruises marred her once smooth skin.
She sighed, dropped the rag in, and pushed to her feet, uneasy and shaky. A few deep breaths before she grabbed the container and turned towards the scar-faced man who held her future in his hands. The man who had his foot over her life pulse.
“Who’s hurt?” she asked wearily.
When she became a doctor, she never for one second believed she’d be using that knowledge in horrific conditions to merely stay alive. This was meatball surgery at its best.
“You get cleaned up. Party tonight.”
An uneasy chill skated up her spine. Had her luck finally run out? Well, if it had, at least she’d be clean.
She arched a brow and asked with contempt, “You want me to clean up with this pathetic amount of water then put on my rags again?”
Soulless black eyes narrowed, and he slid a hand though his hair, the sun glinting off the diamond in her engagement ring that he’d taken the first day.
Evan!
“Xiao-xing take you.”
“Great,” she muttered, following him out of the hut, “fuckin’ Asian Nazi.” Xiao-xing was his top female enforcer and his lover, so suffice it to say the woman was not a fan of hers. Not in the slightest.
The woman waited by a tree, armed like usual and doing her best to kill her with eyes alone. Feeling’s mutual, bitch. Xiao-xing had taken great pleasure in showing her both Missy and Evan’s bodies once animals got to them and had begun to eat them.
Without a word, she waited for the typical crack of the weapon in her back. It never arrived.
“Move,” the woman spat.
They moved to the river. That’s when it happened. The kick to her middle back sent her barreling forward into the water. She sank like a rock in the cold liquid. Hands dug into the rocks and silt at the bottom. For a brief spot of time, Kami thought about not resurfacing.
You don’t know how to give up, kiddo. You’ve never backed down from a challenge. Ever. Why are you giving up now? Fight, stay alive, and come home. Fight! Her father’s smooth deep voice echoed through her mind.
Digging deep for a final bit of fortitude to persevere, she shoved out with her arms, propelling herself back to the surface. Sputtering, she cleared the crisp water, eyes searching for the one who’d kicked her in.
Xiao-xing stood on the bank, her gaze filled with a cold malevolence that showcased her love of creating pain and her desire to inflict it upon her.
“You could have just told me to get in,” Kami said, wiping the dripping water from her face.
“You stink.”
Well, couldn’t argue about that. The daily-allotted helmet of water did little to combat the effects of sweltering jungle heat and humidity. The only time she had full access to water was before she worked on a person.
“And you’re a bitch,” she muttered, slogging through to the bank where a bar of soap and rag rested on the shore.
A quick glance told her they were the only ones there. Or so it appeared. She wasn’t fooled; there were men watching her. She took the soap with the rag out to the deepest part of the water and placed it on the flat-topped rock. Stripping, she piled her clothes up and scrubbed them as clean as she could before wringing them out and draping them on the rock. Then she turned her attention to cleaning herself.
Thrilled to be clean again, she didn’t mind pulling on her own clothes. Even wet, her attire hung off her frame, given her lack of sustainable nutrition and the stress she’d endured. It didn’t surprise her she’d lost weight.
“Now what?” she asked upon reaching the bank.
“We try to make you pretty.” A scoff. “Unlikely.”
There was a spark of anger. Apparently, the water not only cooled the pains of her injuries but also refueled her temper. She shrugged, though, and wrung out her hair before dropping the rope over her shoulder. Familiar with the routine, she took herself straight back to her pathetic excuse of a shelter only to find a few more of the camp women in there. She tensed, unsure of what to expect.
“Strip.” Xiao-xing issued the order with that ever-present hateful tone.
She didn’t want to, but something deep within her told her there was a need to conserve her extremely drained reservoir of determination, so she obediently removed her wet clothes. One girl stepped forward and handed her a towel that she accepted gratefully. After she was dry, they instructed her to sit on a wooden stool while they combed out her hair and drew it back into a high ponytail.
I feel like they’re going to pimp me out. Shifting uneasy on the rough-cut wood, Xiao-xing barked another order and the women left. Kamden could see an article of clothing that lay across a chair.
Damn, I don’t even deserve a chair, but the clothes do. Well, not her rags—they remained in a pile on the floor.
The firm grip of Xiao-xing settled upon her neck, tightening briefly before fading. She couldn’t help the cringe. In her peripheral view, she saw Xiao-xing lean close to her ear.
“Do you know what will happen to you if you ruin this for Sing?”
She had a fairly good idea. Her silence must not have been appreciated for her captor smashed the left side of her back. Stars exploded as the hard, dirt-packed floor rushed up to meet her. She gasped, blinking away tears and spots before her eyes. Pain radiated up and spiraled out from the contact point. The flame within her flickered only to fade even more. She knew she couldn’t take much more. Malnourished, beaten, and exhausted didn’t a winning combination make.
A myriad of regrets assailed her only to be wiped away when her head snapped back. Through the tears, she could make out Xiao-xing, who used her new ponytail to move her. Kami attempted for a deep breath, pulling up short and taking a few shallow pants.
Broken ribs. Another check in the con column.
“Get up.” The whispered words encased in permafrost splintered through her haze of pain.
Her head wobbled unsteadily when the taut hold on her ponytail vanished. Limbs quaked, but she found the strength to do as ordered.
Xiao-xing stared at her again, her eyes miniscule slits. Not so fresh breath streamed along her face. “You will serve the men, whatever they wish.”
“In the towel or do I put on something else?”
The ragged cotton was ripped away. “Dress.” She shoved the dress into her hand.
Slowly she managed to pull it on. It was a beautiful dress. A black short Chinese dress with dragon and phoenix embroidery. Created from brocade fabric, it had a mandarin collar and floral frog buttons. It hung to her knees, had short sleeves and a slit on each side. One she would have loved to have worn when feeling more like herself…more human. As it was, the cool material was nice against her skin. It took a bit of a struggle to zip it, but she managed.
Xiao-xing moved closer so their lips were almost touching. “I will break you.”
She dampened her dry, cracked lips. Kami ignored the part of her that was logical. “Your boyfriend won’t let you,” she sneered, pouring as much contempt and sadistic glee in as possible. “It kills you to know that. To know he protects me from the other men. That—”
Crack!
Xiao-xing smashed the butt of her gun into her jaw, sending her once again to the floor. The pain shot up from her ribs and, with a whimper, she succumbed to the swarming darkness, her blood dr
ipping to the dirt floor and down to the collar of the dress.
αβ
Caleb swore to himself as he slipped carefully back to where he’d holed up. He’d been on the ground for six days, making an encompassing sweep of the mountain. Section by section. He had stumbled upon the remnants of some old camp. The signs were weak and nearly nonexistent, but he found them.
He scratched at his few days’ beard growth before pressing on. About two klicks from where he needed to be, a tingle shot up his spine. Immediately he froze, becoming one with the terrain.
Whoever they were, they were good. Almost created no noise as they moved through the jungle. Four of them, they spoke in hushed tones. They passed right by him, he could have reached out and touched them. The final person stopped and cast a suspicious and cautious look around, his gun ready to fire. From his prone position, Caleb could see a dark stain on the man’s green sleeveless tee.
Blood.
He’d seen enough of it to recognize it. The humidity kept it tacky and wet looking. His interest was piqued because the man himself seemed totally unharmed. Caleb watched through slitted eyes, his fingers curved around the hilt of his SP1-Marine combat knife, ready if necessary to take the man down, swift and silent.
A few terse moments passed before the group of men progressed on, leaving him alone in the sweltering heat. He wanted to get some food and rest but the opportunity to backtrack along their trail to possibly find their camp was too great.
With caution and stealth, he crept along the nearly indiscernible path left by the quartet. A quick glance at his wrist marked his position. He had ninety minutes tops of natural light left. He moved with swift effectiveness and tracked up to a bevy of in-mountain caves. Caleb lay flat against the thick limb he occupied and stared at the side through his binoculars.
If this was their hideout, it was a well-established one. Easy to defend when you could look down upon your attackers. Well protected from eyes in the sky, the caves would shield any infrared scans. He’d wondered at the start of this jaunt if he should have followed the men instead of going in the opposite direction. Now he knew he was on the right track. He just felt it within him. Immobile, he waited for the complete arrival of night. When no fires or torches lit the sky, he activated night vision and moved to the mouth of the first cave.