My focus flicks from tree to tree, shadow to shadow as fear fuels my racing heartbeat. Careful not to step on anything loud, I drop into a squat behind the brush, then nearly scream when a lizard scurries over my hand.
Alone, I can only listen and wait, terrified.
“¡Vete de la carpa!” another voice barks, ordering someone to come out of a tent. Another burst of gunfire makes me flinch. More people scream.
Was my brother one of them? Was my cousin?
I stand, terrified of going closer to the gunfire, but even more terrified of not knowing. A twig snaps behind me. I gasp and whirl around.
A man in green fatigues aims a rifle at my face.
GENESIS
Are they going to kill us?Penelope mouths to me from a few feet away, where she’s still standing in front of her tent.
I shake my head. If these men wanted us dead, they could have shot us in our sleep.
My thoughts race as I evaluate our situation, running through the threat assessment steps from the survival class my father made me take two years ago.
Assets: my fellow campers.
Liabilities: my fellow campers.
As far as I know, none of my friends have had a single self-defense course, and Holden’s the only other one who’s ever fired a gun—a hunting rifle.
Thanks to my paranoid father, I know how to handle myself one-on-one—or even one-on-three—but there are nearly a dozen armed gunmen.
Nico and the other guides can get us back to civilization, if we can escape, but Maddie—
Maddie and Ryan aren’t standing in front of their tents. Neither are Luke and at least two of the bros. Maddie probably chased a rabbit into the jungle to make sure it wasn’tbeing exploited as a native resident, but the guys could be anywhere.
“¡Pónganse en fila!” one of the armed men shouts, waving his rifle at an open area between the outdoor showers and the tent village. Scared campers begin to form a rough line, and Holden, Pen, and I file in with them.
Holden reaches for my hand as we walk, but one of the men in camo uses the barrel of a rifle to shove him away from me. He stumbles and curses, then scowls as he slides his hand into his pocket.
In the clearing, Indiana and Domenica line up next to us, in front of the bunkhouse. She looks scared, but Indiana watches quietly, drawing no attention to himself.
“Be chill,” Rog whispers to the bros. I’m surprised by how focused he sounds now that he isn’t high.
“Should I call my dad?” Holden asks me, when the nearest gunman’s gaze travels away from us down the line of hostages.
“Donotreach for your phone,” I whisper. “Those are not soldiers.”
“They’re carrying military issue M16s, M4s, and AK-47s.” Rog lets out a long, soft breath. “That isnotchill.”
I watch the campers still falling into line, searching for Maddie and Ryan, yet I hope I don’t find them. If they’ve avoided being captured, they’ll be able to report the kidnapping.
Nico is among the last out of the tent city. “Everythingwill be fine,” he whispers as he steps into place next to me.
Holden’s eyes narrow. “Either your English isn’t very good or something got lost in translation,” he whispers. “Because this is pretty damn far from fine.” A toxic blend of fear and rage burns in his eyes.
We’re being taken captive by armed gunmen, yet it’s Holden who makes me nervous.
“I thought you said this shit doesn’t happen anymore,” he hisses at me. “You said this place wassafe.”
“It is,” Nico insists before I can answer. “They’re probably RDP. Their problem is with the Colombian government, not with us,” he insists as his gaze travels over our captors.
“Oh, well, then I guess it’s okay that we were dragged out of bed at gunpoint by a bunch of psychos. Whose side are you on?”
