He turned to her. “Morning. Did I wake you?”
“I heard the zip. But that’s okay; it’s time to get up anyway.”
He tried to run his fingers through his hair, but it must’ve snagged in the knots as he tugged his hands free. “Did you sleep okay?”
“Right through. How about you?”
“My grumbling stomach woke me a few times, but other than that, all good.”
“Let’s get that yummy rice and corn on the go then.”
He chuckled and headed toward the pot near the now extinguished fire.
Between the two of them they had a good routine going. While Lily rekindled the fire and prepared breakfast, Carter packed up their campsite. When Pompa welcomed the morning with an excited crow, Carter grabbed his camera and walked a little way before he squatted down among the bushes.
He looked through the lens, his lips pursed, his brows furrowed, and his hands steady. When the camera aimed at Lily, she poked her tongue out, but if he noticed, he didn’t show it. He was frozen in the moment for several minutes before he finally stood and strolled back toward her.
She pushed the cigarette lighter into her pants pocket, flipped the Velcro flap closed, and sitting with her legs tucked to her side, she picked up her bowl and began eating. “Do you always do that in the morning?”
“What?”
“Take photos before breakfast.”
He tugged at his beard. “I’ve done it for as long as I can remember.”
“What do you do with them all?”
“Try to get them published.”
“Oh, that’s right. National Geographic.” It seemed like it’d been weeks since he told her who he worked for.
He nodded and she had a feeling he wanted to say more, but didn’t. She was beginning to notice a pattern with his reluctant answers, so she pushed. “Tell me about your prize winner.”
He blinked at her, loaded up his fork with rice, then turned his gaze to the fire. “I did a series of photos I titled Morning World. They spanned across a dozen or so countries. My concept was to take a photo of the first thing I saw each morning.”
“Oh, that sounds wonderful. So did you sell them?”
“The collection has been exhibited in several countries, and I sell limited-edition copies. But the best part was it helped me score my dream job, freelancing for National Geographic.”
The scruffy man in front of her had just declared himself the most switched-on artist she’d ever met. Not that she’d met many. But it didn’t matter, mysterious Carter just became even more intriguing. She tilted her head. “I’m impressed.”
He palmed his chest. “Why, thank you, Tiger Lily.”
“Tiger Lily? Really?”
“Yep, lethal yet sweet and innocent.” He laughed and she chuckled along with Carter as she scooped a mouthful of food. She liked the nickname; with six older brothers she’d certainly been called worse.
Once finished, Carter packed up the rest of their gear, while she wrestled Pompa back into his cage.
“Ready?” Carter asked, lifting his pack onto his back with a groan.
“Ready enough.”
They set off just as the sun speared light beams through the foliage. Within a couple of minutes, they stood on the cliff above the raging river and Lily welcomed being in the open air again.
The giant boulder that blocked the path yesterday was their first obstacle, and they had to return to the jungle to circumnavigate it. The rock was about the height of a bus and probably just as long. It was hard work pushing through lush plants and vines that’d flourished in the abundant moist air.
By the time they returned to the cliff edge, the sun was in full view and radiated heat with such ferocity that the exposed skin on her arms and neck burned. She pulled up her collar and rolled down her sleeves, yet it made little difference. Her nose and lips suffered the full brunt of it and no amount of sunblock seemed to help.
The river, still flowing several feet below, remained a frustrating predicament. So close and yet so far. Each time they turned away from the torrent to get around a fallen tree or giant boulder, she prayed that when they returned to the river they’d be closer to the actual water. So far, her silent prayers had gone unanswered.
She sipped on her bottle in the hope it’d settle the hunger that snapped at her stomach like starving piranhas. But it didn’t. Eating the last of their rations earlier this morning now seemed like naïve foolishness.
A new sound caught her attention. It was a low hum, mixed with a repetitive beat. For a moment she wondered if her mind was playing tricks on her, but when Carter stopped, she knew he’d heard it too.
He spun to her, his eyes wide. “A motor! We’re saved.” He leaned over and their lips met, but then he snapped back as if she were a viper. “Sorry ʼbout that.” He looked horrified.
“It’s okay. This is exciting.” The kiss was brief, way too brief, and as far as she was concerned it was fully justified.
He turned around and pushed on toward the noise.
With each step the sound increased, and she kept her gaze on the fast-flowing rapids, expecting to see their rescue boat at any time.
It wasn’t long before the sound drowned out her own ragged breathing and it became apparent that it wasn’t a boat making the noise. It was some kind of engine on the riverbank.
It was several more minutes before they arrived at the source of the noise. At the edge of the riverbank, high above the water, sat five water pumps lined up next to each other. They coughed black smoke and spewed water from cracked rigging as they sucked water from the river and pushed it into long black pipes that disappeared into the jungle.
Lily covered her palms over her ears to block out the sound, and when Carter turned to her she saw the confusion on his face. It wasn’t exactly the welcome party she’d hoped for, but it was the first sign of civilization they’d seen in days. She’d thought he’d be happy, but his expression didn’t convey that. Carter put Pompa down and tossed his pack onto the rocky ground. Lily dropped her bag too and used the water escaping from the pipe to wash her face and neck.
The cool water was like a soothing balm.
Over Carter’s shoulder she saw a tall, straight plant and squealed with delight at the sight of it. Corn. One glorious, healthy, overburdened corn plant was thriving at the edge of the jungle. She strode to it, plucked off a cornhusk, tossed it toward Carter, and grabbed one for herself.
Lily peeled back the large green leaf protecting the plump yellow kernels inside, and her whole body seemed to sigh with relief as she bit into the sweet juicy cob. She gnawed her way up and down and once finished, plucked two more husks from the stalk.
Carter had yellow bits in his beard and teeth and they both grinned big, corn-filled smiles at each other as they devoured their second helping. When finished, Carter burped loud enough that she heard it over the motors. Chuckling, he rubbed his tummy, clearly satisfied.
Lily took a large swig of water from her bottle, and swilled it around to try to remove the bits from her teeth. She fed her cob remains into Pompa’s cage, and he pecked at them with gusto. The poor bird was probably starving too.
Carter eased up beside her. “Ready to go again?” he yelled over the engine noise.
She nodded, returned to her pack, and reluctantly pulled it back on. Carter lifted Pompa, and they started following the snaking pipes back into the jungle. It wasn’t long before the din of the motors was consumed by the thick jungle again.
“I wonder if it’s a farm up here?” she asked once she thought Carter could hear her.
“I don’t really care. Any humans would be good.”
“I agree. Food, give me food.”
Carter laughed. “Do you ever stop thinking about food?”
“Nope. My mom says I have a bottomless stomach.”
“I believe her. Most women I meet are so worried about calories and fat or salt content that eating becomes a mathematical equation rather than enjoyment.”
“Pfft. I’d hate to worry like that. I love my food.”
“I’ve noticed.”
“Oh really?” She said it with the sarcasm it deserved. “We’ve barely eaten anything out here.”
“Lily, don’t take it the wrong way. It’s a delight to watch you eat. It’s a refreshing change.”
“Oh.” She wiped sweat off her temple. “That’s good then.”
The five pipes snaked under and over rocks and roots, and based on the plants growing around them, Lily assumed they’d been there a very long time. Back home on the farm, they were often changing irrigation pipes because they’d burst from heat, cold, or plant or animal damage. These, though, were so ingrained into the vegetation that they mustn’t have been changed in years.
After about fifteen minutes they stepped from the dense bush and into a corn plantation. The pipes disappeared into the stalks, and Carter and Lily had to barge their way through the hardy stalks to keep following them. If she’d thought virgin jungle was difficult to trek through, then this was downright torture.
Each plant she shoved aside bounced back and hit her arms, her face, her entire body. It was brutal, and the onslaught opened up the wounds on her palms and forearms that’d only just started to heal.
Mixed with the aroma of fresh corn was the stench of her own body odor, and she reflected that maybe Carter’s suggestion of a shower before eating wasn’t such a bad idea after all. Images of food kept her feet moving. But sheer exhaustion had Lily on the verge of tears when the terrain changed again. The corn stalks finished, and they entered a different plantation entirely. The stalks were much higher, bushier, and the star-shaped leaves were lush green. She was a couple of feet in when Carter spun to her, eyes wide.
Fear riddled his features.
He wrapped her in a bear hug and tackled her to the ground. “Jesus Christ, Lily.” He whispered, “We’re in a fucking marijuana plantation!”
“What?”
“Quick. We have to get out of here before someone sees us. But stay low.”
Lily’s heart was set to explode as she scrambled to her feet. Hunched over, she pushed through plants that were at least two feet taller than her.
Loud voices cut through the vegetation.
Carter pushed her shoulder. “Run!”
She ran. Her legs threatened to buckle beneath her as the plants whipped at her face like torture devices.
“Go. Go. Go.” Carter’s thumping footfalls were right behind her.
She ploughed into the cornfield and stumbled, slicing up her palms as she hit the rocky ground. Carter launched her upright and gripped her shoulder, his face two inches from hers.
“I’ll go first, but you stay right behind me. Got it?” The fear in his eyes cut to the bone.
She nodded. “Okay.”
More shouts reached them and she counted two men, maybe three. Then she heard a whizzing sound.
“Fuck, they’re shooting at us. For God’s sake, Lily, run!”
He barreled through the corn, cutting a crude path. She gritted her teeth, fisted her hands and kept right on his tail. Adrenaline drove her on. Fear drove her crazy. The yelling grew louder. The whizzing sounds became more frequent. And the corn plantation lasted forever.
Her heart pounded, her legs pounded, and her brain pounded out what horrible things could happen if the men with the guns caught them.
It was an eternity before they escaped the cornfield and hit the dense jungle. Carter kept up his pace, and somehow Lily kept up with him. Fear was a powerful motivator.
“Drop your pack.”
“What?”
“Drop your backpack.” Carter tossed his pack aside, and that’s when she noticed Pompa was gone too.
“I’m fine.” She increased her pace to prove she could do it.
“Drop your fucking pack, Lily!”
“No.” She gritted her teeth.
Carter glared at her over his shoulder and she shook her head.
“Let it go.”
She hooked her thumbs into the shoulder straps, determined not to lose it.
A bullet whizzed over their heads and smacked into a branch above them.
“Fuck! Run!” Carter screamed.
Lily clenched her jaw and powered her legs. Her boots crunched over the uneven ground. Every so often she glanced at the pipes, grateful they had something to follow. But then a shocking thought hit her. If they followed the pipes, then the people chasing them knew which way they were going too.
And the pipes led to the river . . . a dead end.
Before she’d had a second thought, she heard the noisy beat of the overworked motors again. A bullet hit a branch to her right, splintering it in half. She screamed and crouched lower. Adrenaline drove her forward.
The clearing appeared out of nowhere, the five motors still spewed equal parts water and black smoke into the air. Carter turned to her, his face a combination of sweat and despair. And fear.
“What do we do now?” she yelled over the din.
“Give me your bag.” He reached for the strap and she dodged away.
“No. I’m not letting it go.” She clenched her jaw, showing her determination to keep it.
“Jesus Christ. Okay, but I hope you’re a good swimmer.”
“What?”
“We have to jump.”
“Jump? No way! I’m not jumping.”
“Yes, you are!” He grabbed her arm.
“What about crocodiles?” Lily stepped back and put all her strength into grounding her feet so he couldn’t drag her to the edge.
“The water’s flowing too fast for crocs.” The whites of his eyes blazed. “We have to jump, Lily. They’ll kill us.”
Her chin dimpled. “I can’t swim.”
“What?” He threw his hands wide. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding.”
She shook her head. Tears stung her eyes. “I can’t swim.” She spoke through clenched teeth.
A loud crack made them both duck. Sparks bounced off one of the engines.
“Give me your bag.” Carter grabbed it, and she couldn’t hold on to it this time.
To her surprise, he put the pack on his back. “Listen to me.” He clutched her chin, making her eyes meet his. “We’re doing this together. Take a huge breath, grab my hand. I promise I won’t let go.”
Her knees turned to jelly; her body was set to implode. Bile rose to her throat. The roar of the motors disappeared and all she heard was her heart thumping out a terrified beat.
“Lily.” He clutched her hand in a viselike grip. “I won’t let go.”
“Okay.”
He dragged her to the edge. “Ready?”
She shook her head. She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t jump. She turned to him. “Push me. You have to push me. I can’t jump.”
Carter nodded. “Okay. When you hit the water, kick as hard as you can for the surface. I’ll find you, Lily, just get to the surface. Okay?”
She nodded, but wondered in that instant if drowning was how she was going to die.
Another bullet whizzed by, this one just missing her ear.
“Hold your breath.”
Lily sucked in a giant gulp of air. Carter gave her an almighty push, and she screamed until she hit the river. Any air she had left punched out of her on impact. Pain ripped up her legs and forearms as they hit the river with a solid slap. She swallowed water. Lots of it. Blackness surrounded her. Her lungs burned, her eyes stung.
Against all instincts, she forced her eyes open. Everything was blurry but a bright light called to her, showing her the way. She kicked and clawed with her hands, seeking fresh air.
She lau
nched through the surface and gasped in the freshness, sucking it in with great painful breaths. The water tumbled over her head and rushed her along at what seemed like a hundred miles an hour, past fallen trees that lined the riverbank. Rocks and hidden branches beneath the water clawed at her legs and back, shredding her skin at every opportunity. But the thing that scared her the most was that Carter was nowhere to be seen.
“Carter!” she screamed.
She heard nothing but the roar of the water. The current smashed her into a wall of rocks that drove up out of the water like a giant blade. Her shirt tore, and her skin sliced on impact. She screamed with the pain.
“Carter! Help!”
At the mercy of the torrent, she tumbled over and over, swallowing mouthfuls as she gasped for air. It was cruel irony after craving water just days ago. She tried to control her direction, but it was pointless.
The fact that she was alive was a miracle. The fact that she could float was yet another. The only other miracle she needed was to find Carter.
“Carter!” She screamed his name until her throat burned. Fighting back the useless tears, she glanced right to left, searching the white caps.
But he was nowhere.
Golden sun blazed upon her, blinding her with its fury. It didn’t matter how much she fought the current, the water was relentless, dragging her to an unknown destination. The river widened, and with it came a slight reprieve. The water slowed and the rapids disappeared.
Unable to fight the current any longer, she rolled onto her back and spread her arms. To her surprise she remembered how to float. Her parents had attempted to give her swimming lessons as a child, but endless ear infections ended the training before she could even master treading water. Floating was the total extent of her swimming skills. She glanced up at the cotton-wool clouds that contrasted beautifully against the bright blue backdrop. A sense of peace enveloped her and she stopped struggling against the water’s insistent clutches.
After a while she glanced to her right and what she saw made her jaw drop.
She blinked and wiped water from her eyes, trying to get a clearer picture. And there it was—a replica of the circular statue that was drawn in her father’s journal was carved into what looked like an entrance to a cave.
Out of Reach Page 15