“I wanted to come with you, and I’m not going to leave you out here,” he insists. “But I need to know the plan. Therealplan.”
“They have topayfor what they did to my brother,” I say as I finally look at him.
“Okay, but even if that were a plausible goal—and most critical thinkers would agree that it’s not—what are you going to do?” He sits up, and now we’re eye to eye. “There are two of us against who knows how many gunmen. Not to mention the jungle itself. Do you have any idea how many things could kill us out here, even if we never find the kidnappers? Jaguars. Piranha. Poison dart frogs. Caimans. Snakes. Spiders. We’ll be lucky if we don’t catch malaria from the mosquito that just bit me. Or we could drown in the river or fall off a cliff.”
“I’ve already survived a cliff, a river, and more than one gunman. And this mosquito ...” I reach up and smash it into the top of the tent, leaving a small smear of blood against the overhead view. “As for the rest, we’ll just have to keep our eyes open.”
“Maddie, Ryan’s gone, but your cousin’s still alive, and she needs help,” Luke says. “We owe it to her and her friends to report them missing.”
“Report to whom?” I demand. “Even if we find police or more soldiers, we can’t be sure they aren’t in on this like the soldiers at the bunkhouse.”
Luke looks shocked, and I realize he didn’t know that, since he missed the actual kidnapping.
“What did you overhear while you were hiding?” I ask.
He shrugs. “I’m in second year Latin, not Spanish.”
My brows rise. How can anyone live in Miami and speak no Spanish?
Fear lines his forehead, and I try not to let him see how scared I am too. “Look. There’s no one to report this to. There’s no one else to help Genesis.” And like her or not, I’mnotlosing another family member.
“Do you have any idea where they’re taking the hostages?”
I shake my head. “All I know is that they were heading northwest. If you’re not up for it, I understand. But I have to—”
“I’m with you, Maddie.” He says it softly, but the words hold no doubt.
I exhale in the dark, grateful to know that I won’t be out here in the jungle alone.
32.5 HOURS EARLIER
GENESIS
Everyone stops talking when Bill Lewis comes back on the air.
“Thanks for tuning in to Power 85 FM for this exclusive interview with local high school junior Neda Rahbar, whose friends disappeared in the Colombian jungle this morning. For those of you just tuning in, the US embassy received a report around ten hours ago from the mother of Luke Hazelwood, one of the missing Miami teens, after she got a text from her son, saying that armed gunmen had taken over a supply base in Parque Tayrona, on the northernmost coast of Colombia.”
“Luke?” Holden turns to walk backward, and even in the dark, I can tell he’s scowling at me. “Your dad didn’t report us missing?”
“Hernán knows better,” Silvana says with a laugh.
And Maddie’s lovesick puppy dog has proved more resourceful than I gave him credit for. Yet he’s evidently still missing.
“We have a special caller on the line,” Bill “The Thunder” Lewis says over the radio, and everyone goes quiet again. “Hello, Mrs. Wainwright?”
“Yes, this is Elizabeth Wainwright.”
Holden makes a strange choking sound from the front of the line.
“Thank you for taking our call. Please, tell us something about your son.”
“Holden is my only child. He’s a sweet boy,” Elizabeth says, and she genuinely seems to believe that. “He’s allergic to mold and he’s never really been fishing or even camping without prepackaged meals, so the rain forest is truly a less-than-ideal environment for his health.”
Silvana shines her light at him, and Holden’s jaw is so tight I’m afraid he’ll dislocate it. He loves to talk about going on safari with his dad, as if that makes him a badass, but he never mentions the private guide who cooks, packs the Jeep, and makes all the travel arrangements.
Holden camps like a rich boy.
“So, if whoever has him is listening, please tell us what you want. We’ll do anything. Justpleasesend our boy home.”
