“I didn’t get any fruit.”
The men around him laugh, clearly amused by my willingness to make demands from a man holding an automatic rifle.
“We ran out,” Sebastián says.
“Rumor has it, fruit grows in the jungle.”
His brows rise. “You’ll have to pick it yourself.”
“Then I’ll need an escort.” I gesture toward the narrow footpath, as if I don’t know it goes to the beach. “Lead the way.”
He stands, then gestures in the other direction. Away from the ocean. As we head across the clearing, a crescendo of laughter and crude jokes from his men follows us.
I ignore them all and focus on Indiana instead. He’s right. I don’t need anyone to wish me luck.
Valencias make their own luck.
21.5 HOURS EARLIER
MADDIE
When the first rays of dappled sunlight wake me, I find Luke curled up to my back with his arm draped over my stomach, as if he’d tried to stop me from leaving in his sleep.
For a moment, I savor his warmth. But then reality kicks in.
Luke shouldn’t depend on me. Following me into the jungle nearly got him killed. And it may still.
I shouldn’t have let him come, but I can’t leave him now, even for his own good.
I don’twantto leave him.
I carefully lift his arm and sneak out of the tent. By the time I get back from relieving myself in the jungle, Luke is packing up our camp.
“Did you know that Parque Tayrona contains more than seventeen thousand square acres of jungle?” he says as he folds up the camp stove.
“So what?” I ask as I strap our sleeping bag to the bottomof my pack. “You think we’re still in Tayrona?”
“Probably. The vast majority of theparqueis unexplored, unmapped wilderness.”
I shrug into my backpack. “If this is a needle-in-a-haystack analogy, you know exactly where you can shove your odds and statistics. Iwillfind them.”
“I know. And I’m still with you. But I have an idea. Silvana was marching you guys northwest, right?”
“Yes. We were headed away from the rising sun.”
He shoves the folded camp stove into his bag and zips it up. “Then I propose we head due north, instead.”
“Why?”
Luke looks at me as if I should already have caught onto his point, and I hate how clueless that makes me feel. “Because the Caribbean is due north, and heading toward the shore means we’ll be going downhill. Which will make hiking easier. We can turn west once we hit the water, and that’ll bemucheasier going.”
“You’re leaving something out.” I can see it in his eyes.
If we hike along the beach, we might see a boat, or run into other tourists, or pick up a stronger cell signal. “You’re not trying to help me find Ryan’s murderers.” The betrayal feels like a bruise deep in my chest. “You’re trying to get us rescued.”
“I’m trying to do both,” he insists. “We’ll still be heading north and west, but at a much faster pace. And if we find help before we find the kidnappers, we can alert theauthorities and let them take over. Weowethat to your cousin and her friends.”
“I know, but ...” I don’t want Ryan’s killer apprehended. I want him dead.
