by Anna del Mar
She stinks.
She’s dirty.
Her Mom’s a whore and a junkie.
What’s a junkie?
She got sent home last week.
They said she had fleas again.
The shame. The pain stabbed through me all over again. I forced myself to breathe. By the time I got to Afghanistan, I’d already suffered from PTSD for most of my life. It got worse before it got better, but I was fine these days. Mostly.
The tray felt slippery between my sweaty palms and my nerves were stretched taut like rubber bands about to snap. Battlefield? No problem. Dining hall? Problem.
I reminded myself that I was not that helpless, neglected little girl anymore. I was me, grown up Jade, a marine, independent and self-assured, even if I was a work in progress. Deal with it. I’d done it all my life.
“Jade!” Sarah called from the long table by the old pool, where she sat with Lara and Cara. “Over here. Come sit with us.”
Saved by the kindness of others.
I set my course toward the girls. Once there, I put down my tray, slung my pack over the back of my chair and found safe haven in the chair next to Sarah and across from the other two. I noticed that all three women wore grim expressions on their faces. So unlike their usually cheerful selves. Lara’s frown pulled down on her lips and Cara’s face looked particularly pasty. But before I could ask, Sarah jumped on me.
“What’s this I hear about you and a bunch of poachers?”
I reprised the whole story quickly, to get them off my back. When I was done, the three of them stared at me with wide eyes.
“That was dangerous,” Sarah noted.
“But very brave,” Cara said, staring at the dry toast on her plate.
“Of the dozen species of rhino that once roamed Africa, only five remain,” Lara stated as if she was reading from a chart. “Up to 35,000 elephants were killed last year in Africa alone.”
“Thanks for those helpful stats.” My gaze flicked between Sarah and Cara. “Okay, I have to ask. Does she always talk in percentages and shit?”
“Yeah,” Sarah said. “Homeschooled. Graduated at fourteen. Young EQ. Three PhDs.”
“I’m a scientist,” Lara said defensively. “I like my facts.”
“No shit.” Cara groaned, bent over her belly and settled her forehead on the table. “Oh, God. I think I’m going to die.”
“Are you sick?” I asked. “Or are you due to write that check on the student loans you complain about so much?”
“I’m sick.” Cara said in a miserable whimper. “And it’s not just from looking at the balance from my empty bank account.”
“She might’ve indulged a little too much last night,” Lara offered.
“Is it coming out at the top or at the bottom?”
“Both.” Cara moaned.
“Don’t worry.” Lara squeezed Cara’s shoulder. “An estimated fifty percent of travelers to developing countries are affected by gastroenteritis. Of those, up to seventy percent of the cases are caused by viruses. Only ten to fifteen percent are caused by parasites.”
“Parasites?” Cara blanched, turning even paler than before.
I supposed that was one way of comforting the sick.
“Are you taking anything?” I asked.
“I took some stuff I brought from home.” Cara winced. “But it doesn’t work. I’ve been here for a whole freaking year and yet when it starts, it doesn’t stop. What am I going to do?”
Sarah traded a worried look with me. “She’s scheduled to go out in the field today.”
I wished it was me who was going out in the field, but I also understood Cara’s problem. I grabbed my backpack and rummaged through my first aid kit. “Here you go.” I handed Cara a pair of tablets. “This will have you up and going in no time.”
“Are you sure?” Cara examined the tablets.
“Marine field-tested, Jade guaranteed.” I looked through my pack some more. “You’ll be ready for action in twenty minutes.”
“Really?” Cara downed the tablets with a glass of juice and got up from the table, eyes sparkling with hope. “I better go get ready then.”
“Yep, you better. Here, catch.” I tossed a couple of packages of electrolyte tablets into her cupped hands. “Dissolve in bottled water. Drink often. These should keep you hydrated for the rest of the day.”
Cara gave me a grateful smile. “Thanks!”
“Go get them, tiger.” I gave her the thumbs up as she left.
Sarah flashed her toothy grin. “Are you always ready for everything?”
“Comes with the territory.” I turned to Lara. “What’s got you looking so worried?”
“Oh, nothing.” Her downturned lips disagreed.
I looked to Sarah.
“The short of it?” Sarah winced. “Doctor Andrew Stoats, her new boss? He asked her for a blow job, on day one.”
“Ah, shit.” Fire flushed through my veins. There was always one of those in a crowd. Stuff like that pushed all my buttons and not in a good way. “What did you do?”
“That’s the worst part.” Lara wrung her hands and glanced over at the next table over, where a middle-aged professor, dressed in Indiana Jones garb, sat with a woman I hadn’t seen before, slobbering all over his oatmeal. “I didn’t know what to do. I read that over fifty percent of females experience some sort of sexual harassment, but something like this has never happened to me.”
Talk about leading a sheltered life and having no coping mechanism to fight off the beasts.
My stare fixed on the scum. “I’m assuming that’s Doctor Andrew Stoats over there?”
“Yes,” Sarah said. “He works with the Schumers on the rhino project and he’s Lara’s direct supervisor.”
“Who’s the woman with him?” I asked.
“Pat Schumer,” Sarah said. “She finally got in early this morning.”
Since Pat was the Schumers’ daughter, I didn’t think Stoats would dare harass her. As soon as she got up and left the table, I pushed back my chair and stood up.
“No, Jade, no.” Sarah shook her perfect bob and her hands in unison, blue eyes sparkling with alarm. “We don’t want to cause any trouble.”
“Trouble my ass.” The trouble was already caused. “You guys wait here.”
I marched over to Stoats and plopped down on the empty chair next to him without waiting for an invitation.
“I’m Jade Romo.” I forced a smile to my lips. “I’m here documenting the work at the station.”
“I’ve heard about you.” The man’s small brown eyes reminded me of filthy mud pits as his gaze oozed down to my breasts. “Nat Geo explorer and all that jazz. You’ve got the looks to go with the reputation.”
“Hey, up here buddy.” I snapped my fingers next to my face. “This is where my eyes are.”
“What can I do for you?” The murky stare bounced up from my chest. “Would you like to interview me?”
I kept the smile pasted on my face. “I’d only be interested in interviewing you if you wanted to address the allegations of sexual harassment that are going around the station.”
His mouth dropped open, giving me a disgusting view of all that oatmeal floating around his gums. “What?”
“Don’t even think about jerking me around.” I spoke in a low, even voice. “If you ever harass anyone again at this station, you will become the exclusive subject of my investigation. Sexual harassment in academic research environments. It’s a topic that could quickly become dear and near to my heart.”
A spark of arrogance lit his gaze. “Are you accusing me of—”
“Shut up and listen.” I wasn’t in the mood for arguments. “Your new research assistant? She’s out of bounds. Understand? Leave her alone. She’s here to do scientific research, not to suck your pitiful dick.”
His mouth moved, but it made no sound. Clearly, no one had put this asshole in his place before this moment.
“So back off,” I said, “And don’t eve
n think about taking it out on Lara or her career. If I so much hear a whisper of shit like that, I’m going to dig out every woman you’ve ever harassed and end your stay here on a really sour note. Got that?”
He nodded, because dirt bags like him had long histories they wanted to keep buried under metric tons of sand and he knew someone like me could end his tenure in no time.
I stood up, smile frozen on my lips as I walked back to our table. People like him made me sick. I picked up my backpack and saluted Lara and Sarah before I made my way out of the dining room. I didn’t like having to do that sort of thing, but crap like his demanded immediate action from the bitches of the world, and that meant me.
Matthias
I spent another endless night directing night patrols at the reserve’s northern border, scouring the Serengeti for signs of Kumbuyo and his poachers. It was all for nothing. Kumbuyo had vanished into thin air and after three days of extended night shifts, my rangers looked like a filthy, exhausted, ragtag gang.
I usually enjoyed my time in the field. The thrill of operating in the African wilderness was the one joy I allowed myself these days. Just being out on the Serengeti fired my blood and left me in wonder of a world that seemed pretty shitty otherwise.
But driving back in the deep, solid, pre-natural darkness that pervaded the moonless night, rattling inside the truck until my aching bones felt like bridle sticks, I felt ancient. The lack of sleep combined with the wear and tear to destabilize my knee, which was now officially hurting like motherfucking hell. But I wasn’t gonna stop searching for Kumbuyo. I couldn’t, especially not now that Jade was involved.
Word from the station was that Jade was looking for me with a vengeance. I tightened my grip on the wheel and smirked. Of course she wanted to be out in the middle of everything. Better to stay the hell away then. She was as relentless as they came. Sooner or later she was gonna catch up with me. By the time she did, I had to have my professional and personal strategies firmly in place. Otherwise, she was gonna steamroll over my best resolutions and I was gonna be dead meat.
I stepped on my brakes and eased my way around the tail end of an African buffalo herd, wandering in the night. They were a bunch of big suckers, each male around fourteen hundred pounds of raw muscle, eyes glittering green under my beams as they stared down my Land Rover. Widow makers, the locals called them, hoofed brutes that’d been known to gore both people and lions with their massive horns.
I liked buffalos. They were thick skulled and stubborn, a lot like me. They weren’t Africa’s flashiest celebrities, but they were fierce fighters and sturdy survivors that stood up to claws and fangs, not only for themselves but most impressively, for the sake of the herd. Yeah, I dug the beasts. They reminded me of the teams. Hell, I missed the teams.
I left the herd behind and sped down the dark road. My mind drifted back to Jade, where it seemed to be stuck lately. Jade Romo was a pain the ass, but she was also the most intriguing woman I’d come across in a long time. Her energy made me buzz. And that kiss on night one…damn. I was getting hard just thinking about it. Yeah, I had to stay the hell away from her. Another kiss and there was gonna be no chance in hell that I could keep the mission on track.
Easy soldier. I wanted to do a lot more than kiss her. A woman like her was a once in a lifetime find. She was, well, Jade. Unique, strong, unstoppable, and yeah, really nice to look at. She had a gift to fascinate and drive me insane at the same time, which could explain why she’d etched herself so deeply in my brain. Hell, but I was screwed.
I wasn’t exactly sure what I was gonna do next. Had to make some phone calls, figure out some basic advantages for myself. If I were smart, I’d find a way to put myself on ice, and return her back to sender before she blasted my mission to hell. But she wasn’t gonna let me send her home until she did her job. And when all of this was said and done, I wanted—no—I needed a fair chance at her.
It would help if I could be nice to her, expedite her assignment, please her somehow, do the nice things a guy could do to woo a gal to his corner, that sort of thing.
But I wasn’t just any guy and Jade wasn’t just any gal. She was fierce and she didn’t exactly like me…yet. So, best I could do was flush out the violent beasts from the bush and clean up the Serengeti for her, so she could have the run of the goddamn place. Kumbuyo had to be close by, watching and waiting. She would be in danger for as long as he was around and that was unacceptable to me. When it came to Jade, my heart was still negotiating the terms of surrender with my brain. But her safety? Hell, no. That was non-negotiable.
9
Jade
Matthias Hawking proved to be as slippery as the Taliban. By midday three days later, as I sat in my bungalow, I was sick and tired of waiting around for him. How was I supposed to establish a working relationship with a freaking ghost?
I was pretty sure he was avoiding me on purpose. I may have avoided him too, on account of the simmering attraction that flared in me when I thought of him, something that happened way too often. My temp shot up when I remembered his kiss. The way his mouth had called to mine had my tongue anticipating the range of his flavors. Even now, I craved the feel of his mouth brushing against mine.
Heads up, marine. You are way out of line. This was what happened when a sexually intense being like me gave up sex. I was hornier than a troop of bonobo chimps, which was a lot to say since bonobos were considered the horniest animals in the world. My erotic intensity was coalescing into something raw and real. Anger was my fallback position, so that’s where I went. Matthias was really pissing me off. Where the hell was he?
I felt trapped in the station, simmering inside and suffocating in my own body. I needed to burn some steam. I strapped my bangs away from my face with an elastic headband and slid into my spandex shorts, threw a tank over my sports bra and laced on my tennis shoes. Because I never went anywhere without my camera, I fitted my smallest camera into my runner’s pack and strapped it around my waist. Time to run.
The station’s elevated walkways offered no reward for the athlete in me. I was bored after two rounds. I trotted over to the ranger’s camp and had the good fortune of arriving as a group of rangers clad in their PT uniforms formed up, jogged in formation around the rudimentary track and took off through the back gates at a decent pace.
I wondered if jogging along with the rangers would constitute breach of my agreement with the director. I quickly concluded that, as long as I stuck to the group, the director would find no fault with my actions. I wasn’t being reckless and I needed the exercise. Plus, Matthias was conveniently absent.
I took off after the rangers. The guard posted at the back entrance stopped me. He didn’t speak English and I didn’t speak Swahili, so I pointed at myself and then at the group jogging down the road. He went into what was surely an eloquent explanation of all the reasons why I shouldn’t go with the rangers, but I didn’t get a word he said.
“I’m going.” I ducked under the gate. “No need to worry about me.”
“No, no, hakuna!” he called after me, a suggestion I didn’t take.
I took off at a good clip. I caught up with the rangers and followed in their heels as they jogged down a dirt road singing a melody—in English no less—a melody I immediately recognized from my training days.
Birdie, birdie in the sky
Dropped a present in my eye
Here he comes again, oh my,
I’m so glad that cows can’t fly.
The smile tugged my mouth. Matthias had trained his men with the same tools with which he’d been trained. There was something endearing about the knowledge, something wholesome and meaningful to the marine in me. My body fell into the comfortable, familiar rhythm. My feet pounded the ground at regulation pace. We jogged onto a red dirt road, trotting by the Maasai warriors herding their cows and the sporadic huts that dotted the landscape. This was great, exactly what I needed. My mind cleared. The anger lifted and I began to enjoy the sights.
> Fifteen minutes into the run, a vehicle rattled on the road behind me, engine revved, gears cranking. I glanced over my shoulder and saw the tan Land Rover speeding on the track like a bat out of hell. Well, looky here. At last. I’d caught the game warden’s attention.
The Land Rover’s brakes screeched as it caught up with me.
“What the hell do you think you are doing?”
I would’ve recognized that bossy, pebbly voice anywhere in the world. I glanced over to the car and confirmed that, sure enough, the great Matthias had arrived, suddenly materializing from his exile. He drove the truck, elbow bent over the open window, face set in his best scowl. Zeke was with him, sitting on the passenger side.
“Hey, Zeke.” I waved at a jog. “How are you doing?”
He lifted a tentative hand that wilted under Matthias’s ferocious glower.
“Stop,” Matthias barked. “You are not allowed out of the station.”
“Technically speaking,” I said between breaths, “I’m not allowed alone out of the station while working.” I pointed to the men ahead of me. “Not alone. Not working.”
“I’m not gonna ask you again,” Matthias said, driving at my speed. “Stop. Right now.”
Nothing like a direct order from someone who was not my commanding officer to provoke my defiance. I fixed my gaze forward and kept up the pace.
Matthias cursed. The Land Rover accelerated ahead of me, swerved violently, and came to an abrupt stop between me and the rest of the group, raising a cloud of dust and completely blocking the road. The door flew open and Matthias stepped out, ears red as a pair of ripe apples.
The fury on his face persuaded me against detouring around the truck to keep up with the rangers. The way he planted his feet apart and perched his fists on his hips dared me to bypass him. My anger flared. I was this close from taking off. I so wanted to give him a run for his money.