The two orcs have attached to the rope too.
“We’re secure!” someone shouts. “Go, go, go!”
The helicopter rises.
My stomach drops as we lift off the ground. The rope pulls taut and suddenly we’re airborne, dangling beneath the helicopter, the jungle floor falling away below us. Wind whips at my face. I bury my head against Jonus’s neck and hold tighter.
Bullets zip past us. I feel Jonus’s body jerk as he returns fire with his free hand while keeping me crushed against him with the other.
We rise above the tree canopy and the helicopter banks, pulling us through the air. I’m dangling two hundred feet above the jungle, clinging to an orc, and all I can think is don’t let go, don’t let go, don’t let go.
Then we’re moving forward, the jungle streaming past below us. The helicopter crew is hauling on the rope, pulling us up toward the open door. Hands grab me first, dragging me into the cabin. I collapse on the metal floor, gasping. Then Jonus is there, hauled in beside me. Then the first orc, then the other.
“All aboard! Go!” someone screams.
The helicopter lurches, banking hard. My stomach drops as we accelerate. More gunfire from below, pings against the hull. I curl instinctively, making myself small.
Then we’re rising again and I know that we’re leaving. I exhale and let out a snort-laugh then my whole body starts buzzing from the adrenaline crush. Twelve days of terror finally catching up with me all at once.
Everyone around me is breathing hard. I do a quick count — Jonus beside me, two massive orcs, two humans. All accounted for. All alive.
We’re out.
Jonus reaches over and takes my hand. Doesn’t say anything. Just holds on.
I hold on too.
The leaner orc moves toward me with a med kit. He hands me headphones. I put them on and see that he has a set too. “I’m Aldar, Jonus’s cousin,” he says. “I need to work on your feet right now.”
I nod in agreement, bracing myself for the pain.
He kneels beside my feet ready to start.
But then I flinch. Not from the pain — from the distance Aldar has created is between me and Jonus, blocking my view of him. I had to let go of this hand and suddenly my chest is tight,my breath coming too fast. I need to see him. I need to be near him. The thought of being separated, even by a few feet?—
“Jonus,” I croak.
He’s there immediately, shifting so he’s beside me, his hand finding mine again. Aldar adjusts without comment, working on my feet from a different angle so Jonus can stay close.
“I’m here,” Jonus says quietly through his own headset. “I’m not going anywhere.”
The tightness in my chest eases. I don’t understand this feeling, this need to be near him, this anxiety at the thought of separation. I’ve known this orc for months through a screen, but in person? Hours. Just hours. And yet the thought of him not being within arm’s reach makes me want to panic.
I turn my head to look at him. He’s watching me with those dark eyes, intense and focused. I’m filthy. Starving. Half-dead. I probably smell like twelve days in a latrine.
And he’s looking at me like I’m the most important thing in the world.
“We’re out,” I say. My voice sounds strange to my own ears. Hoarse. Disbelieving.
“We’re out,” he confirms.
His hand tightens around mine. I hold his large hand in return. All I know is that I can’t stand the idea of being separated from Jonus. He saved me and I need him nearby in order to feel safe. It doesn’t make logical sense — I barely know him, not really — but logic has nothing to do with this. Something deep and primal in my brain has decided that this orc means safety, and being away from him means danger.
I’m not ready to examine that too closely. Not yet.
Below us, Colombia falls away. Ahead is safety, medical care and a future I wasn’t sure I’d have.
Aldar continues working on my feet. It hurts, but I barely notice. Jonus’s hand is wrapped around mine, warm and solid and real.
