Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
C.M. Estopare
Wild Magic
Don't fear the jungle. Fear the people.
First published by C.M. Estopare in 2017
Copyright © C.M. Estopare, 2017
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.
This book was professionally typeset on Reedsy
Find out more at reedsy.com
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Chapter 58
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Other Books by C.M. Estopare
Connect with me!
1
You can wake up dead. Ren knew. She swore on it. It’s what hangovers did to her.
“Ren? Hey!”
Static rolled in her head. Her eyes were like open sores festering on her face.
“Open your fucking eyes.”
Ren wished Itzel wouldn’t.
“I’m not fucking playing here, open your eyes!”
Ren groaned. “Fuck off.”
A hand slapped onto her mouth. Ren’s eyes shot open, her heart thundering in her chest as she thought of all the ways she’d get Itzel back for this.
Darkness flooded her vision. Slivers of moonlight danced at the edges.
“Where the fuck—” her voice came out muddled, her words slithering between Itzel’s sweaty fingers.
“Sssh!” Ren couldn’t even see her hiding in the dark, but she knew Itzel clamped a finger to her own lips. Knew she was kneeling…somewhere. If Ren could get her hands on her…
“You’re tied up, idiot. Stop squirming.” A shadow danced across the tiny slivers of moonlight. A man-sized one. Once it disappeared, Itzel turned back to Ren. Though it was dark, Ren could see the crazed glint in Itzel’s dark eyes. “Close your eyes.”
“Why?” she shot back. “Is this some kind of joke?” something rough—rope?—dug into her wrists, sawing its way down to the bone. Her legs were sprawled out in front of her while her head was hoisted up against slick bars.
Itzel’s cruel grin didn’t phase her. “This might get bloody.” She said, slipping a thin knife from her belt. “Close your eyes.”
Ren obeyed. She grimaced as Itzel sawed at the rope, the sound chipping away at her sanity as Ren watched the fingers of moonlight inch closer and closer toward them. Bamboo bars surrounded them, while outside the cage the ill-fitting planks of a tiny shed kept them hidden from view. From the moon. Ren cursed. Felt fire roll across her forehead just as the ropes snapped.
“They drugged us.”
“Us?”
“Mhm.” Itzel said. Ren took a moment to rub her wrists. “You, me, and Mia.”
Mia.
Fuck. Ren blinked. Racked her brains for a face to place with the name but found nothing. “Whose Mia?”
It was Itzel’s turn to blink. “Damn. Whatever they gave you, it fucked you hard.”
“I remember you.”
“But not Mia?”
Ren shook her head. What the fuck was going on here? “Why are we in here?”
Itzel rolled her eyes. “Why do you think? Fuckers kidnapped us. Don’t know why, but—” she scooted closer to the bars and shook them, “—we’re going to get out. Don’t panic. I’ve got this.”
Since when was she panicking? There wasn’t anything to panic about. She just woke up without any recollection of what happened the night before…in a cage…with her arms tied behind her back…shouldn’t she be panicking? Maybe this was what shock was like. You wake up in something that feels like a dream and you feel—well—nothing.
Yeah, this was pretty much like waking up dead. No biggie.
Except, it was.
“Where are we?”
“Some fucking island.” Itzel said, aiming the heel of her boot at the bars. “You really don’t remember shit, huh?”
Did she have to tell her twice?
“You failed your finals—” Itzel grunted as she kicked at the bars. Her heel grazed off. “—so you were like—fuck it. I’m going on vacation—” she kicked again. No use. “Decided to bring us with you—” she kicked again and cursed. Brought her leg in and held it. “Then you fucked us. Long and hard. You know,” she turned to face Ren. “You could have at least brought me dinner first.”
If Ren weren’t concentrating on swallowing her vomit, she would have laughed. “What now?” How the fuck do we get out of here?
“We get out.” Itzel almost added—duh.
“But how?” Another shadow passed over the little bits of light squirming from outside the shed. Itzel went rigid. Pressing a finger to her lips, she listened. They both
did. Ren couldn’t make out the language—it was singsongy. Like a mixture of Spanish and Chinese. Weird. Deep voices were murmuring—guards, she assumed. Men posted at the door to their shed.
“They’re talking about us.” Itzel hissed. “I think.”
Ren swallowed at the lump in her throat and strained to listen. Pressing her ear through the bars, the bamboo scratched at her sweaty face. Hair stuck to her. Frizzy and tangled, almost as if she had fought against these people. Whoever they were.
“We need to find out where Mia is.”
Ren almost said who but kept it to herself. Mia is your friend. Remember dammit! But she couldn’t. Ren could have punched herself in anger, but her stomach was already destroyed. No use playing captive with vomit sticking to her clothes, so she bottled her anger up and ground her jaw against it.
“I’ve got a plan. You listening?”
Ren nodded her head.
“You’re not gonna like this.”
2
Voices thrummed outside the shed. Mindless chatter.
Ren chewed her tongue. She was going to hate this.
“Hey!” she shouted, slamming her arm against the bamboo bars. “Hey—in here!” the voices outside stopped. A chorus of crickets and a collective wailing outside sailed into their little shed. The wailing sounded far away. Ghostly almost. The skin on the back of Ren’s neck prickled.
She slid her gaze to Itzel.
Itzel flashed a grin.
Fuck me.
“Hey, fuckers!”
The door to their shed bulged open. Moonlight flooded in and for a moment Ren and Itzel were blinded by the sudden onslaught of light. It blazed daggers into their eyes.
“I—I need to piss!” Ren stuttered, footfalls landing near her as the man came closer. She ventured a look up and didn’t even find eyes to meet. Not real eyes. Instead, she found little pinpoints inside of a rickety cedarwood mask, its scarlet paint fading to dead ash. His chest was bare, save for crisscrossing markings slathered on by an uncertain hand. His partner peeked in, wearing the same cedarwood mask, the paint brand new. Ren bit her tongue to keep from gasping. Who the fuck were these people? She had come to this island for what—vacation? Fuck.
Pinpoint eyes peered inside, the masked man ducking as he dug the butt of his spear into the dirt. Ren’s eyes widened—yeah, a fucking spear! Had they been transported back in time? Who in the hell used spears anymore? The guy looked like he’d walked right out of a Flintstones cartoon. Minus the jaguar-hide dress. Unlike Fred, this guy probably meant business. Bloody business.
Ren’s job was done now, but as she stared into those pinpoint eyes she almost sputtered a laugh. She could have hit herself—she had to be in shock. The masked man huffed and peered at Itzel now. A glint in the darkness prodded him to move his face closer, his eyes squinting as he brought the tip of his spear to rest against the cage. Itzel screamed. Ramming the tip of her knife into the mask’s right eye-hole, she forced the knife forward. A sickening squelch made Ren’s stomach roll. Blood dripped from the incision, and that only made things worse. Ren turned her gaze away just as Itzel snatched the knife back, blood dripping down her thumb and forefinger.
“Grab the spear!”
Right. It was closest to Ren, but she was too busy heaving. Swallowing against the flood of vomit that surged up her throat, she crawled across the thatched floor and reached out for the spear just as the masked man wobbled and swayed. Losing his balance, he fell backward as he wailed, his hands cradling his bloody face. He rolled from side to side screaming in that singsong language, calling for his partner. A newly painted mask poked its head into the doorway and seeing his friend on the ground, he charged for the cage—shouting. His eyes bloodshot behind the scarlet mask.
Ren grabbed the spear and flung it to Itzel. Grasping it in both hands, she angled the tip toward the charging man and he sidestepped it. Coming to Ren’s side, he flung the point of his spear into the cage and hollered. He spiraled it around, forcing Ren to sprint in zigzags like a mouse avoiding a cat with a fucking spear. She looked to Itzel, who held the other spear in one hand now. Her other hand flat against her stomach. Crimson bleeding through her fingers.
Fuck.
3
They escaped the shed. Just not in the way they’d planned.
With their arms tied behind their backs and their vision stolen, masked by itchy black fabric, they were shoved forward.
“Listen.” Itzel coughed, spat, and lurched forward. “If you do nothing right, promise you’ll do this.”
Ren’s teeth chattered as they moved. Kicking her flats through dust and dirt, she ignored the urge to fall face first into the dirt. “What?” she couldn’t think of anything else to say. This was all her fault—she felt it. Knew it—somehow. But she wouldn’t feel bad—not yet. They still had a chance of getting away. But, first, Itzel had to stop bleeding and the jackass behind them had to stop shoving them forward.
“Get Mia. Then, go home.”
Home. Ren could have laughed if her face didn’t burn from the hot tears slipping down her cheeks. Home. “How the fuck do you expect me—” a snap of pain speared through the base of her neck. The jackass behind them had punched her. His way of telling her to shut up. Ren murmured under her breath but got the picture. If she talked loud, she’d get hit. Not hard to follow—even for her. “I don’t know where home is.”
“Well, figure it out.”
Ren shook her head. Almost said thanks, but decided against it. This was no time for sarcasm. Where ever this guy was taking them, it certainly wasn’t to freedom. She moved her wrists against the rope and cursed. Bound tighter than a club-goer’s dress. Ren ground her teeth, kept muttering fuck under her breath as if that would stop anything. Maybe she could listen for a way out—maybe she could fall. Turn and run. But she couldn’t leave Itzel. She couldn’t leave Mia. She still had no memory of the name or the girl, but had to keep her promise.
Ren would get them both home—somehow.
They stopped so quickly that Ren barreled right into Itzel’s back. The jerk behind them cuffed Ren by the ear and tugged her, ripping her collar in the process. She wanted to yell as she heard the fabric rip, but the shock of everything was slowly fading into panic. Ren’s heart fluttered in her chest as she stood still, an explosion of murmurs wafting all around like errant wasps. A crowd gathered, though not around them. When Ren was pushed, walking right into Itzel’s back, Itzel moaned and lurched forward. She hit another obstacle. Ren smelled salt and sweat. Were they in a line?
A deep voice boomed over the crowd. That quieted them. Brought complete silence that melted Ren’s veins. She wished she could see through the blindfold. Wished the jerk that had ripped them from the safety of their shed had taken the stupid strip of fabric off. But—no—they just had to up the fear factor, didn’t they? Bunch of fucking drama queens. Ren fought fear by racking her brains for her memories as the line lurched forward. Step by step. Person by person. Itzel said she had come here for vacation. Here. What the fuck had been her major malfunction? Was she some sort of sadist? No—something told her—no. No, she was running from something. If she forced herself to think harder…she’d just getting a splitting headache, ow. A hangover headache. That’s something—right?
A scream sliced through her thoughts. Blood-curdling, hair-raising, everything you’ve ever thought was wrong with the world was bundled up in that scream. And it just kept going and going. Fuck. Was this why they blindfolded them? So once they got to—where ever—they’d stare death down and scream bloody murder until the scream died like a fucked up speaker? And the scream did die, though it took time. The line lurched three times before the scream finally faded out of existence. Something sizzled and spat and the sickly sweet scent of cooking meat wafted through the air on a breath of stale wind. Burnt hair—it made Ren gag. What in the fuck were these people doing?
There it went—that voice again—booming. It spoke that singsongy language and the moment he was done
speaking to the crowd, the scream came again. Though, this time it was a different voice. A man’s voice.
The line lurched.
“Ren.” Itzel’s voice was so weak, Ren almost didn’t hear it over the sizzling. “If you could find my knife…”
“How?”
“With your mouth.” She almost added, idiot, Ren could hear it just waiting to slide out.
Ren sighed. What if those masked jerks were still around? Waiting for her to fuck up somehow? When another scream tore through the air, Ren realized that it didn’t matter. They could do all they wanted to her and she would never scream like that. Whatever was going on at the front of the line was way worse than what any of those jackasses could do to her.
So, she bent down.
Ren snapped her teeth when she smelt leather. Her nose brushed against Itzel’s upper back.
“Left pocket.”
The metallic scent of blood climbed into Ren’s nostrils. She ignored the urge to gag.
“Other left.” Itzel hissed.
The line lurched forward. Itzel moved with it, causing Ren to fall face first into the dirt. She fell with her teeth bared, smacking her face into sharp pebbles and rotten earth. She moaned there for a while. Tentative feet poked at her and stepped over her listless body. Itzel was moving forward—moving away. Yet again, Ren had fucked up.
She wondered how long it would take for one of the masked men to pick her up. Ren didn’t have to wait long. When a fist grabbed her by the back of her head and threw her onto her back, she squirmed. Used her tied wrists to push herself up to her knees. But the hand pushed her back down.
Wild Magic (The Island Book 1) Page 1