by Melissa Frey
Kayla’s head, still buried in her hands, shook almost of its own accord.
“Kayla.” Grady grabbed both her wrists and pulled her hands away from her face. He held them in her lap with one hand as he reached to turn her head toward him. She stubbornly refused to meet his gaze. After a long moment, Grady spoke. “Kayla, look at me.”
She didn’t want to look at him. He didn’t need to see her cry. Again.
But he was still holding her chin resolutely, and he wasn’t letting go. She slowly, reluctantly brought her eyes to his. He spoke quietly, almost silently, but his words came across loud and clear. She shouldn’t have been able to hear him at that volume, but somehow she did. “This is not your problem. You don’t have to fix this. Especially not today.”
Kayla started to shake her head again, but Grady put both hands on either side of her face and held it firmly. “No.” He held her gaze and waited.
Kayla sighed, but the weight of the world didn’t lift off her shoulders. “Fine, you win.”
Grady shook his head and smiled. “It’s not about winning or losing, Kayla. It’s about your peace of mind. And right now, it seems as though that’s your last concern. When’s the last time you slept through the night?”
Kayla tried to remember, she really did, then realized with a jolt that she couldn’t.
Grady chuckled, Kayla supposed at the expression on her face. He kissed her forehead. “You need some sleep.”
Kayla automatically shook her head, but then she yawned, widely.
Grady was laughing now. “Aw, honey, come on. You really must get some sleep. You’re falling asleep just sitting here.”
Kayla stood, a little too quickly, and staggered before Grady helped her right herself.
Grady wrapped his arms around her as he leaned in for a kiss. “You’ll thank me later,” he whispered just before his lips closed on hers, then he led her back to the hotel.
The next thing Kayla knew she was waking up to the sun shining brightly through the open balcony doors of her hotel room.
Amazon Rainforest, Southern Detachment Outpost
“Sir, our squad is ready and waiting for your command.”
The Leader of the Southern Detachment nodded in satisfaction. “Excellent. The four Americans have arrived—the time will soon be upon us. Please notify me if your status changes.”
“Certainly, Sir,” the soldier replied, then turned and exited the Leader’s tent.
The Leader surveyed his now largely empty tent, then turned his attention to the map on the table in front of him. His messenger had, only a few moments ago, confirmed that the four targets had arrived in Leticia but had been unable to make any further progress.
How are they able to find every location? These locations have been hidden for centuries, and these Americans just happen to find every one of them with little trouble. How is that possible? He scrutinized the map as he considered these questions and more, outlining the many plausible scenarios and plotting multiple escape routes for their ambush.
Not that it would matter. If everything went as planned—and there was no reason to think it wouldn’t—there wouldn’t be anyone left to see them escape.
He was doing everything he could to ensure a successful attack. The supplies they needed had been easy enough to procure in this country, but everything else needed to fall into place just as easily for the mission to succeed.
They couldn’t risk another failed attempt at stopping the stubborn and seemingly invincible Americans. He would make certain they would not survive.
Downtown Leticia, Colombia
Kayla felt refreshed, relaxed. She never imagined she’d sleep until morning.
She smiled. She’d never be able to repay Grady for stabilizing her, so many times in the past few weeks, when she felt like she was spinning out of control. But she’d be willing to spend the rest of her life trying.
As Kayla showered and got ready to face the day, she dared to wish—hope even—that today would be the day they found the answers buried here.
Hopefully.
The Amazon River, just outside Leticia
Grady spoke the best Spanish among them, so with his rudimentary language skills he secured a guide to lead them along the river. He even managed to procure a boat of sorts—to Kayla it looked more like a large raft, but their guide assured them it would travel a substantial distance down the river. At least that’s what Grady’d told her he said—her Spanish was spotty, at best.
Their “boat” was a collection of presumably—hopefully—waterproofed wood, secured side by side by large, thick ropes, with a weathered and beaten deck. Kayla hoped the logs—and the deck they supported—weren’t really as old and fragile as they seemed to be. The craft stretched to a surprising twenty feet long and ten feet wide, but Kayla still found it oddly claustrophobic. Even without railings.
Kayla spied what could only be a small engine hanging off the back of the raft, but it wasn’t in use. She realized it was only for taking them back upstream when the need arose, or if they needed to speed away. She didn’t want to think of a reason why they might have to speed away, so she focused her attention more clearly on the only thing keeping her from falling into the muddy river. For now.
Flanking either side of the raft, Kayla saw something that looked like large coolers—she thought that perhaps they had been coolers at one time. Though old and faded now, she could easily picture the once bright red and blue colors emblazoned proudly on their sides. They appeared to be functioning as crude “cargo holds” with two hand-made clasps on each of them to help secure the lid. Mandy was using the blue one as a seat; Kayla decided to take the red one.
Near the front—what Kayla assumed was the front, anyway, given the direction they were heading—was a small cabin. The all-wood craft was barely accommodating a relatively large, enclosed structure, about the size of a small bedroom, with a worn but somehow still-holding tarp stretched across the top. Through the open door—yes, the “cabin” did, in fact, have a working door—she spotted a small cot and metal picnic table. The farthest wall encased thick windows and a small instrument panel stood in front of it. She imagined the wall she couldn’t see held a tiny kitchenette. Did their guide actually live here?
She glanced through the door at their guide, the owner of this humble craft, and smiled to herself. His unkempt hair, unshaven chin, and sloppy clothes made her think that he definitely did live here, and probably had for longer than she cared to imagine. She was suddenly glad for the openness of the raft—and the light breeze. And glad she wasn’t in that enclosed room with a man who looked like he hadn’t showered in weeks. How was Grady able to stand it?
She saw Grady walk out of the cabin, and Kayla grinned at him. He shot her a harsh glare for a second, which made her laugh silently. She watched as he drew in a deep breath once on the open raft. Kayla covered her mouth to keep from laughing aloud.
Grady crossed the raft and moved to sit down next to Kayla. She moved her backpack full of supplies out of the way so he could sit.
“Better?” Kayla grinned at him.
Grady shot her a look, but couldn’t hide his smile very well.
Kayla laughed, a lilting sound that surprised her. She hadn’t thought she was as relaxed as the laugh insinuated.
“You’re mean.” But Grady wrapped one arm around her anyway and pulled her into a half-hug.
Kayla shook her head. “Sorry.” But she was still smiling—she couldn’t help it. Another laugh escaped her.
“And you’re a bad liar,” Grady dropped his arm and crossed both arms across his chest, pouting. Which made Kayla laugh harder.
As hard as she tried, she couldn’t stop laughing, and soon Grady joined in. It felt good to laugh with him, even if at nothing at all. She felt her worries melt away with each passing second.
Then it happened.
Kayla jerked upright, so suddenly it made the raft quiver dangerously in the calm waters. Grady jumped but remained seated, h
is eyes flying to Kayla. What he saw there shouldn’t really have surprised him, but it startled him anyway and his heart tightened, as if someone had reached inside his chest and started squeezing.
Kayla’s head was swimming long after the vision was over. She pressed a hand to her forehead but her head wouldn’t stop spinning. She squeezed her eyes shut. Was she really taking longer to recover than before, or was she just imagining it?
After a few minutes, thank God, the dizziness was replaced with a sudden and certain clarity. She lurched to her feet—nearly tipping the not-quite-big-enough raft over for the second time in less than ten minutes—and shrieked at the top of her lungs in the direction of their guide, forgetting momentarily that he couldn’t understand a single word of English.
“YOU’RE GOING THE WRONG WAY!”
CHAPTER 30
Beacon
“Kayla, honey, what are you talking about?” Grady stood next to her, his hand absently stroking her hair. He couldn’t remember when he’d started doing it.
“I mean . . . we’re supposed to . . .” Kayla gasped, trying to catch a breath where she could. “We need to . . . go . . . that way.” She jabbed at the air, pointing in the opposite direction they were going.
Grady glanced behind them, trying not to get frustrated. Couldn’t she have figured this out before they’d wasted hours—and a considerable amount of money—floating aimlessly down this murky river?
Grady sighed then dutifully approached their guide—who was currently staring wide-eyed at the crazy American woman who’d just shrieked nonsense at him—and rattled off new instructions to him in what Grady thought was an admirable attempt at coherent Spanish. But he soon started getting angry as the little man started barking out his many complaints. Grady was certainly paying him enough money to do what he was asking without complaint.
But as the guide just stood there with his arms crossed, jaw clenched, Grady knew more would be required. He growled his dissatisfaction before jabbing another bill into the greedy man’s greasy hand. Grady ordered him to hurry before heading back to Kayla.
That guy had better get moving.
Three hours later—the trip against the current took considerably longer than their first trip downriver—the group was nearly back to where they’d started.
Despite her calm and clarity directly following her latest vision, Kayla was now irritated. Why couldn’t she have known the right direction to go before they wasted half the day on the river? What good were these visions if they wouldn’t come when she needed them? Not hours later, after the group had spent a small fortune simply wasting time.
She glanced up at the bright sky, wishing that “Destiny” had never brought them to this humid rainforest. She was even beginning to wish she’d never had those first visions in the cave, that she’d never started on this quest.
The sun was nearly centered in the sky, only minutes away from midday. She squinted at the cloudless sky, shielding her eyes with her hand. Her eyes dropped slowly as a rather unwelcome lump settled in her throat. Yet again, she was clueless as to where they were headed. She fought the tears, fought the doubt creeping into her mind.
Then she saw it.
“Grady!” Kayla hissed under her breath. Grady was the only one close enough to hear her, anyway, and his wide eyes flew to hers.
Her gaze was trained on a singular point on the horizon. Grady followed her line of sight, searching for what had so completely captured her attention.
What he saw froze him in place.
Mandy wasn’t paying much attention until she noticed out of the corner of her eye that Kayla and Grady weren’t moving. Her gaze shifted away from the book she’d been reading—it was getting good, too—and up at Kayla and Grady’s faces.
What she saw there made her forget about the book and just about everything else. She tapped Justin’s arm lightly, nodding at their friends. Justin looked up, his forehead creasing as he glanced from Kayla and Grady to Mandy, then back, then back again.
Mandy stood and walked over to Kayla and Grady, examining their faces for any clue as to why they had become statues. Then she noticed their eyes—staring at the same spot, as though they couldn’t look away.
Mandy turned slowly—she could sense Justin do the same only a few feet away—and followed their gaze, searching for what was so enrapturing, so captivating . . .
Then she saw it, too.
And instantly she knew, beyond the shadow of any doubt, that they had finally found it—the location of the next book.
Kayla stumbled off the raft, unable to move her eyes from the mystical spot on the distant horizon for more than half a second. She heard the others moving around her, even heard Grady mumble something to their guide—probably about why they were getting off—but she couldn’t keep her eyes off the beckoning vision in front of her.
She felt the weight of her backpack at her right hand and took it from Grady without thinking—she knew it was Grady from the way he smelled, which was an ever-increasingly pleasant reminder of his nearness—and slung it on her shoulder, still staring at the indescribable sight before her.
Like a lighthouse guiding ships in a dark night, their own personal beacon shone brilliantly in the noonday sun, guiding them to their next destination. Atop a nearby mountain, inexplicable yet undeniable, a light gleamed so brightly that it nearly blinded her. Nevertheless, Kayla stared at, unable to look away. It almost seemed to be beckoning her forward.
And Kayla realized, the moment she felt the others join her to face that light, why they had wasted the morning on the river, why they hadn’t been able to find anything yesterday afternoon.
Timing was the key.
That mountain had been nondescript this morning—she knew that because she’d seen it as they left this morning—but now, under the blazing glare of the hot sun, the location of the next book was calling out to her, to them, their path lit by this shining ray of light.
“There must be something on that mountain, something that reflects the sun, but only at a precise time of day,” Grady postulated, under his breath. And, though Grady was several feet away from her, with Mandy and Justin between them, Kayla heard him loud and clear.
The realization broke her entrancement with the light. “What did you say?” She whispered, barely audible. Even Justin next to her shouldn’t be able to hear her.
But Grady did. “Kayla?” There was no mistaking the shock in his voice, even at barely a whisper. “How can I hear you?” She felt Grady’s eyes on her before she turned toward him.
Kayla smiled at the look on his face, his jaw nearly on the ground. She mouthed “come here” and grinned at him as he walked behind Justin and Mandy, who were still transfixed on the sight before them, seemingly oblivious to the exchange between Grady and Kayla.
Grady reached her and immediately drew her into a hug. “Kayla,” he breathed, “I can hear you.”
Kayla nodded into his chest, comfortable there despite the noonday heat. This was what home felt like, she was sure of it.
Grady pulled back and looked into her eyes. “You are my home.”
Now it was Kayla’s turn to be shocked, though she supposed she should’ve been more surprised that she could hear him speak below a whisper from many feet away. Her mouth and eyes dropped open at the same time. “Did you hear my thoughts?”
Grady looked her over. “Not really, I just said what I was thinking at the time . . . though, now that you mention it, I’ve never had a thought like that myself. Almost like—”
“—the thought wasn’t your own.”
Grady’s eyes were wide as he nodded slowly.
Kayla nodded back, more resolutely than Grady. “I think that’s all the confirmation we need . . .” . . . that we’re on the right track, she thought, knowing Grady would somehow understand. She smiled and addressed the group, raising her voice. “Come on, let’s go.” Justin and Mandy glanced over at her with glassy eyes. She knew how they felt.
“I don’
t think it’s far. Maybe we can get there by dinnertime.” With that, Kayla led the way into the brightly lit rainforest that stood between them and their Destiny.
Less than an hour later, Kayla glanced up at where the beacon should be, but she didn’t notice it from this vantage point. Somehow, though, she knew it was still there. It had called her, drawn her to that exact spot, at that exact moment. She could still see it in her mind’s eye, could remember the precise location it pointed to. Or maybe she wasn’t remembering—maybe she just knew.
As they bushwhacked their way through the overgrown rainforest, Kayla had begun to notice something, to feel something. It was subtle at first, but as they trekked up the mountain, the feeling became stronger, so much so that Kayla couldn’t ignore it.
It was starting to worry her, having such an overwhelming feeling that just wouldn’t go away. She couldn’t tell if the feeling was good or bad, but it was definitely there. She swallowed hard, tried to shove away the lump in her throat, but it only seemed to get bigger.
And she knew, though how she couldn’t tell—something was about to happen.
Good, bad, or indifferent, something was close.
To the east, less than a thousand meters away, a small group of five camouflage-painted men hurried silently through the thick foliage. On their leader’s silent command—relayed with one abrupt fist pump—the men quickly froze in place. Upon seeing a quick but clear jabbing of their leader’s hand in three different directions, the men spread out and found their positions, creating an arc with their leader in the center. They all intuitively ducked behind trees, rocks—any cover they could find—and raised their weapons in rapid succession. Simultaneously—almost as if rehearsed—the men lowered their heads and stared through their scopes to locate their marks.