Fine. Let her avenge Ryan. Genesis isgreatat revenge.
I have to get back to my brother. But if I run, I’ll just get shot. I need a distraction. Or an opportunity.
I pull free from my cousin’s grip, and when I don’t bolt this time, she leaves me alone.
Genesis thinks I’ve given up. But she’s about to find out just how much we have in common.
42 HOURS EARLIER
GENESIS
“Yo no quería esto.”Julian’s nose has finally stopped bleeding, but his whispered insistence that this isn’t what he signed up for sounds like a nasal whine. “No me gusta esa puta.”
Moisés nods.
Obviously there’s dissension in the ranks, and if that’s about more than the broken nose, I should be able to exploit their anger and drive a wedge between our captors.
But it would help if I knew why we were being kidnapped. Unfortunately, I know nothing about the Colombian political situation, except that Maddie says both the drug wars and the guerrilla revolution—the main sources of the violence my father remembers—are practically over. Either she’s wrong, or this is about something else.
Silvana knew who I was. The gunmen called my name as they searched the tents. My father will let me go anywhere in the world, except Colombia. This has to be about more than local politics.
This is about me. But why?
My dad and his mother moved to Miami when he was twelve. My uncle David was born six months later, and he was obsessed with his Colombian heritage, but my dad never talks about his childhood in Cartagena. As far as I know, he hasn’t been back since the day he left.
I squat on the trail to retie my boot lace, letting Rog and my friends pass me until I’m within eavesdropping distance of Óscar and Natalia, the other female kidnapper, who’re bringing up the rear. But the only thing I learn from their smutty whispering is that she’s definitelynothis sister.
As I stand, a gunshot echoes through the jungle.
Maddie turns to me, her eyes wide and swimming in tears.
“No,” I whisper as I take her arm. “No, Maddie, it wasn’t Ryan.”
“How do you know?” she asks through halting sobs.
I know because they don’t need another bullet to kill Ryan. All they have to do is leave him alone.
“¡Vamos!” Silvana shouts, and Maddie jumps. Indiana takes her backpack and wraps one arm around her shoulders, urging her forward.
A second shot rings out from behind us, and Penelope starts crying. Then she stops walking.
“Get her moving, or she’s next,” Silvana orders, marching backward so she can look at me.
I swallow a groan and wrap my arm around Penelope. I can’t let her die, even if she did totally stab me in the back.
“Hey,” I whisper close to her ear. “You have to keep walking.”
“I can’t.” She grabs my arm, and her grip is so tight my fingers start to tingle. “They’re going to kill us. We’re next.”
“They’re not going to—” We both flinch as the third shot rings out.
Rog closes his eyes and bows his head for a second.
“March!” Silvana shouts.
I tug Penelope forward as the fourth shot echoes toward us. We march, her hand tight around mine, as bullet after bullet is fired, each separated by a short pause.
Pen flinches with each one, but I count them.
