“Kinsey!” His voice was hushed, but his eyes were wide with fear. “Hide!”
“What are you talking about?” I asked, wrinkling my brow and turning my head to look around us. I bent down and picked up my pack, using my knee to prop it high enough for me to swing it onto my back.
“No! Get down! We can’t let them see us!” Grabbing my arm, he pulled me into the brush. The branches snagged my clothes and pack, and a branch broken branch cut my arm as I stumbled into the brush behind him. Blood oozed and dripped with a splat onto the green leaves and decaying jungle floor.
“What is going on?” I demanded, trying to slow the bleeding with what had been my last clean shirt.
“Just ahead,” he whispered, “beyond those trees is a guerilla camp.” A bead of sweat trickled down from his hairline.
“There are no guerillas in Nicaragua!” I scoffed. Convinced he was just crazy, I allowed myself to stand up. “Nicaragua is one of the few peaceful Central American countries.” Maybe he’d spent too much time in the sun.
“No, really. Follow me. Just be quiet.” Creeping out of the bushes we’d hidden in, he retraced his steps, and I followed him through the trees. Peering around a large hardwood, I realized we were at the edge of a clearing. Then I stopped breathing.
Mason was right—we had stumbled across a guerilla camp. There really wasn’t anything else it could be. Dotting the landscape was a smattering of lean-tos and huts with metal roofs constructed of roughly cut poles. Most were open sided and only tied together.
In front of one small shelter, a wicked-looking machine gun was mounted on a tripod. A large ammo belt feeding into the gun trailed over a nearby lean-to’s railing.
“What the hell?” I gasped, startled at the sight, and almost tripping over my own feet.
“Shhhhh!” Mason pressed a finger against his lips, reminding me to be quiet. Putting his mouth right next to my ear he barely whispered, “We have to figure out how to go around them. We can’t risk being seen.”
I nodded rapidly, my breath growing quick and shallow as I motioned for him to lead the way. I risked a glance back over my shoulder; the site of that camp burned into my retinas. A dead pickup truck sat nearby, vines growing through its broken-out windows. The rubber tires were cracked and falling off the rusty rims. Tarps strung over rotted picnic tables flapped lazily in the breeze, creating a background of white noise that blended in with the constant jungle sounds.
Following the stream we had stumbled upon a few days earlier had led us right to the center of their camp. They had tossed a few logs over the moving water, creating a makeshift bridge. Once we made it around the camp, we would have to find that stream again. It was going to lead us out of this jungle. We couldn’t lose it.
Mason
I’d heard rumors of armed groups operating in the northern mountainous jungles of Nicaragua, but I’d never really believed it. Almost 30 years had passed since the Iran-Contra scandal. Even though I was seeing the camp with my own eyes, I still couldn’t believe the contras were active again. Were they paramilitary rebels? Tactical offshoots of the criminal gang the Maras? Whoever they were, they were poor and desperate, which made them very, very dangerous.
I could smell the nervous sweat pouring off me. It had a tangy, metallic odor that regular sweat from physical exertion doesn’t carry. My shirt was soaked, clinging to my skin and chafing under my arms.
Our progress seemed to drag out. Time slowed to match our pace as we silently drifted from tree to tree around the perimeter of the camp. I was afraid to get too far away from it and risk losing our lifeline—the stream. It had not only provided us with direction but also lifesaving water. We’d run out of the bottled stuff the second day. Water is heavy, and while we took as much as we could carry, it didn’t last long in the jungle’s hot, humid climate. Neither of us was used to the heat or the intense work of hiking back to civilization. We required more liquid than normal to function. We couldn’t afford to get sick.
Snap!
About halfway around the encampment, I motioned to Kinsey to stop. I’d heard something, but I didn’t know what. Quietly, I slipped off my shoes and handed them to Kinsey. Lifting my right foot high, I balanced a moment before coming down on the outside ball of my right foot, slowly rolling to the inside ball. Lowering my heel and then my toes I gradually applied pressure. As kids, Mark and I played a lot of cowboys and Indians, and this was the best way I found to walk in complete silence. Of course, you have to pick your foot placement carefully and avoid stepping on anything that will break or crack. Staying in the shadows, I matched my movements to the dip and sway of the vegetation as a light breeze wove its way through the jungle.
Stealthily making my way through the brush, I tried to minimize the swish-swish sound my pants made. For an office guy, I was doing a pretty good job of remaining undetected. I’m sure the Army Rangers would laugh at my efforts, but I was doing the best I could in a pretty shitty situation. Then I made one wrong step and CRACK! Something broke beneath my bare foot.
Oh shit!
“¡Oye!” I had startled one of the guerrillas as he took a leak in the trees. Raising an alarm, the angry rebel fighter zipped his pants and gave chase. “Te voy a enseñar cuántos hoyos tiene un caite!” he shouted to the others.
Damn he’s fast! The thorns and twigs cut my feet as I led him as far away from Kinsey as I could. Weaving through the vegetation, I dodged the low-hanging branches and vines that threatened to strangle me. Barely avoiding roots reaching up to trip me, I ran as far and as fast as I could until I could no longer hear the sounds of his pursuit. Then I leaned over, put my hands on my knees, and fought to catch my breath.
BANG!
BANG! BANG!
My heart stopped at the sound of gunshots echoing through the jungle. I stood up, frantically trying to identify the direction the shots had come from. Where’s Kinsey?!
Taking off the in the direction I‘d just come, I prayed I could find my way back to her in time. My fear for Kinsey fueled me even in my exhausted state. I couldn’t bear the thought of anything happening to her. Ignoring the pain, I sprinted past the broken branches and overturned earth I had just left in my wake and raced back to the camp.
“Alto ahí!” a sharp voice commanded. I froze with one foot in the air and slowly looked in the direction of the voice. “No te muevas! Don’t move.” A guerilla with a heavy accent gestured at me with his gun. I raised my hands, careful not to make any sudden moves, and turned to face him.
His chest puffed out and he swaggered over, resplendent in his dirty, tattered camos and a red bandana tied around one bicep. “They will shout my name tonight,” he boasted. “I will be king when I tell the story of your capture!”
I watched him strut around in the clearing, crowing in his broken English as he told me what a big man he was to have captured me. His eyes darted back and forth as he licked his lips and pulled a walkie-talkie off his belt. He dropped the muzzle of the gun to the ground as he held the radio to his mouth, letting loose a string of Spanish I couldn’t decipher.
Realizing it might be my only chance, I lunged at him, tackling him to the ground. The walkie-talkie flew from his hand. His rifle slipped from his shoulder and fell to the soft earth. We wrestled, rolling back and forth in the dirt, Mud and debris stuck to my sweaty skin and made it even harder to maintain a hold on my rebel captor. Spotting a rock out of the corner of my eye, I reached for it, but barely brushed it with my fingertips.
“I will keeel you!” the soldier hissed. His black eyes narrowed, and an evil sneer curled his lips, exposing his rotting teeth. Elbows and fists flew as we tumbled again, and I struggled to stay on top of him. Reaching for the rock again, I finally grasped it in my fist.
As he cursed and fought to throw me off, I brought the heavy rock down on his head. Instantly, his body went limp beneath me. Maybe I could have stopped, but I didn’t. I lifted the rock high over his head and brought it down again and again. His skull made a hor
rible crunching sound until it caved, and then there was only the squishing sound of stone pulverizing tissue.
When I was certain he was dead, I stayed there for a moment, studying my assailant’s broken head as my adrenaline slowly faded away. Finally, my heart stopped racing and my thoughts became clear. I rolled off of him, onto my back and stared up at the sky peeking through the thick jungle canopy.
How the hell did I get from my executive office to here?
Kinsey
Huddling down in a dense bramble thicket, I tucked myself and both our packs as deep into the vegetation as I could crawl. Bits of leaves and other detritus from the forest floor clung to my clothes and hair, creeping into my mouth and nose as I pressed my body into the damp earth.
I could hear shouting in Spanish and men running back and forth. Their shadows fell over my hiding place. I was too close to camp for comfort. All it would take was one eagle-eyed, attentive rebel to spot me, and I’d be a dead woman. Or worse.
Hunkering down, I squeezed my eyes shut and pictured Mason’s face. Regulating my breathing, I listened to the movement around me. All the regular jungle sounds were gone. No birds sang. No monkeys howled. Every creature had fallen silent when chaos erupted. The ominous quiet terrified me.
BANG!
BANG! BANG!
Shots sounded across the clearing, igniting a new and furious commotion. MASON!!! I covered my mouth to stifle a scream. I could hear the rebels shouting and see their shadows rush across the leaves. I prayed that they hadn’t found Mason and, at the same time, that they wouldn’t find me. I had to figure out how to put space between me and them. I had to find Mason.
Counting the seconds I squeezed my eyes shut again. One, two, three…
…two thousand, two hundred forty-nine… My eyes snapped open when I realized the jungle sounds were back and I hadn’t heard voices in a while. Crawling an inch at a time from under the brush, dragging the two packs behind me, my senses were set on high alert. I crept away from the clearing, following the direction Mason and I had been traveling.
When I’d reached safer ground where I was sure no one was watching, I stopped to adjust my load. Putting my own pack on my back, I tightened the straps and buckled the belt. Then I hoisted Mason’s onto my front. We couldn’t afford to lose anything, but I couldn’t afford to let it slow me down, either.
Petrified, I kept moving in the direction Mason had been leading us. As frightened as I’d been throughout our entire trek, without Mason, I was almost too afraid to breathe. I prayed he was okay, that he’d figure out I went and catch up to me. I just couldn’t stay that close to the camp any longer, and I had no idea which way he’d gone. I hated to leave him behind, but I had to put some distance between me and the guys with the guns.
It took far longer than it should have for me to work myself the rest of the way around the camp and continue following the stream. It was easier walking along the water; the area was more open and clear of brush. Unfortunately, that also meant it would be easier for the rebels to find me.
I was thankful for the bright moonlight as I walked long into the night. I couldn’t imagine making shelter without Mason, so I kept moving well past when we usually stopped. Staggering sometimes from the weight of the packs, my exhaustion gave way to numbness as I put one foot in front of the other over and over again.
Chapter 20
Mason
I pulled two banana leaves from a tree and roughly fashioned them into shoe-shaped pieces. Holding them against my foot with one hand, I used the other to wrap them in place with the sleeves I’d torn from my shirt. It was little protection for my ruined feet, but it was at least something. Going barefoot might have kept me quiet and alive, but it exposed me to every twig, rock, and thorn on the jungle floor. At least the banana leaves served as a barrier as I set off to find Kinsey.
I don’t know if it took me hours or mere minutes to make my back to where I thought I’d left her, but I was sweating buckets all the way. My heart hammered in my chest as I gingerly traced my route back, keeping an eye out for the guerrilla fighters.
My mad flight through the jungle was so unplanned and unorganized it took me a while to even find, much less follow, my random path back to the camp. I had to hide several times, avoiding armed the men who still combed the jungle in search of me. I couldn’t risk getting caught. I had to find Kinsey. She was all I could think about. Did they found her? Is she okay?
I caught sight of the guy I’d startled earlier when his pants were down. He looked seriously pissed. With his grenade launcher at the ready, he stalked through the jungle in his dark green uniform, sleeves rolled up in deference to the heat. I guess having to tell your boss you were surprised while taking a leak in the middle of nowhere wasn’t good for job security. I bet it had earned him a sharp dressing down.
Searching through the thicket where I had left her, Kinsey was nowhere to be found. My heart tripped double-time as I circled wider and wider around the bushes. I know this is where I left her! Eventually, I stumbled across my shoes where in the bushes, but there was no sign of Kinsey.
Wait? That looks odd. Kinsey had left my shoes lined up toe-to-heel pointing east. My eyes widened as I realized what she’d done. God I love that woman! Not only had she made the right decision to get the hell out of the hot zone, but she’d left me a message to let me know she’d gone east.
I unwrapped most of the fabric from around my raw feet and slipped my shoes on. The swelling was so bad I could only tie them loosely. Hobbling forward, exhausted, I ignored my aching feet and set off through the woods after Kinsey.
Hours later, the moon cast long dark shadows over the black and white landscape as I chased her. Normally brightly lit and vibrant, the jungle seemed like a different place at night. Everything seemed malevolent, and my over-active imagination conjured danger around every corner. Moving cautiously around a bend in the river, I noticed how the stream widened as yet another branch joined it. The water was significantly deeper and faster in the middle than it had been when we’d started walking that morning.
Groaning, I stumbled to the bank. My eyes felt like sandpaper, and my feet hurt so badly I just couldn’t force myself take another step. I gently pulled my shoes off my poor feet and lowered them into the cool, soothing water.
“Ahhhhh.” I couldn’t stifle the sigh as the icy water provided instant relief. Leaning back on my elbows, I took a minute to enjoy the sensation before sitting up again and rinsing out my filthy shirt. I using the wet fabric to wipe off any exposed skin I could reach. My chest, neck, face and back— quite frankly all of me— was rank. I was covered in sweat, muck, and forest floor. I reveled in the blissful feeling, washing away the dirt and fear from the day.
“Mason?”
I jumped at the sound of her voice. My eyes widened, and my heart picked up speed. Hearing my name whispered in the moonlight raised gooseflesh on my already-chilled skin. My shoulders sagged with relief to see Kinsey’s sultry form emerge from the shadows. I hadn’t seen another human in hours, and those humans had all wanted to kill me. I was so tired I had inadvertently let my guard down. It was a slip that helped her find me, but I was lucky something more dangerous hadn’t discovered me first.
“Thank God, Kinsey!” I leaped up on my sore feet, splashing water on my pants legs and abandoning my shirt where I’d left it lying drying on the rocks. Racing to her, the pain in my feet forgotten, I scooped her in a giant bear hug.
“I was afraid I would never see you again!” she cried. “Oh my God, Mason, don’t leave me again!” Her voice wavered, thick with tears as she stood cocooned in my arms.
“I won’t, baby. I won’t. I’m here. I won’t leave you ever again.”
Kinsey
“Mason, we need to get going.” I rolled over onto his chest and enjoyed the warmth radiating from him. I lowered my lips to his and with just one quick touch, a tingle shot through me. I felt a stirring below that had been absent in the fear of the last few days. What
I wouldn’t have given for a soft bed, room service, and hours to learn every inch of him. “Wake up, babe. We need to move.” My voice was a whisper, my lips a hair’s breadth from his. I could feel the electric pull of his mouth calling to mine.
Flipping me over, he spooned his body around mine, and we lay together on the blanket, cuddled together like two puppies. The night before, we hadn’t gone too far beyond the tree line next to the river. Both of us had been too exhausted to hike on after the strain of getting separated and escaping the guerillas. It had been scary and wearing and had left us both too physically drained to do much more than collapse in a heap as the day’s adrenaline wore off.
Lying there in the dark, every muscle aching, my brain had refused to turn off. I had realized as I hiked alone that day that I could do this—I could get myself to the river alone. I just didn’t want to.
Together, Mason and I were so much more than we were apart. Memories popped to the surface of my consciousness, flashbacks projected on the back of my eyelids, forcing me to relive everything that had happened since Ricardo announced the failure of the first engine. I could have faced those trials and survived on my own, but I was so grateful to have survived them with him.
“I’d much rather take you up on this delightful offer.” Mason interrupted my deep reflections, his chest rumbling behind me, his hot breath on the back of my neck.
“Mason!” I reach back, playfully swatting whatever part I could reach. His length nestled into my backside, creating a surge of moisture between my legs. “I’m not offering anything! We need to go! We are still too close to that camp. I want to put a lot more miles between us and them.” My brain didn’t believe a word my lips were saying.
Mason: The Lost Billionaires, Book 1 Page 13