No.
I squint in the dark for a closer look at the phone in my hand. The screen is cracked in the corner,just like Maddie’s. I bend to look at the others. Second from the left, a block of C-4 is taped to a phone still in the purple designer case I gave Penelope for her birthday.
The terrorists have turnedourcell phones into bombs.
My palm slick with sweat, I carefully set Maddie’s phone back on the table. Each improvised device is no taller or wider than the phone it’s taped to, and no more than two inches thick.
In the movies, a brick of C-4 that size will blow open a safe. Itmightdemolish a whole room. These bombs won’t teach the United States much of a lesson.
And even if they would, there’s no reason they need to be assembled in the jungle and not on US soil.
A piece of this puzzle is missing.
“¡Baja eso!”
Outside, Óscar shouts in Spanish for Indiana to put down the guitar.
“No hablo español,” Indiana replies. The he starts singing again to a chorus of laughter. But I know his time is up, and so is mine.
I scan the rows of phones until I find mine, then carefully tuck it into the waistband of my shorts. I’m not sure what I’m going to do with it yet, but I amnotletting them use my phone to kill people.
“Put it down!” Óscar shouts from outside, and I flinch so hard the bomb falls from my waistband onto the floor. My heart jumps into my throat.
I’m about to be blown up by my own cell phone.
But nothing happens. C-4 must be very stable.
Pulse racing, I pick up the bomb and slide it deeper into my waistband this time. On my way back to the tent entrance, I notice a box of phones that haven’t been made into bombs, and suddenly I understand how the explosives are supposed to work. The unaltered phones will be used to call the bomb-phones, which will trigger the explosion.
Holden’s is on top of the pile. The Eminem quote on the back of the case is a dead giveaway.
I snatch it and slide it into my pocket.
I peek between the tent flaps to make sure no one’s watching before I rejoin the other hostages.
When he sees me emerge from the tent, Indiana stands and gives a deep bow. The hostages all clap, except for Holden. Óscar snatches his guitar and shoves Indiana toward the others with the barrel of his rifle.
My hands are still shaking by the time I slip back intothe circle around the fire pit. Indiana sits down next to me and takes my hand. He has no idea that I am dressed like a suicide bomber, and I can’t tell him without drawing attention.
Terrified, I glance around to see if anyone saw me, but the guards are gathered around a fire making tea, teasing Óscar in Spanish about the fact that Indiana is a better musician. Pen and Holden are whispering to each other on the other side of our pit.
Rog is watching us. Watchingme.
But he only gives me a smile and a small nod, then retreats to the edge of the clearing to lean against his favorite tree trunk.
“Genesis.” Domenica scoots closer to me as I subtly tug my shirt down, terrified that my stolen bomb will be discovered. “What did you find in there?” Her last few words carry no sound, so I have to read them in the shape of her lips.
She saw me.
6 HOURS EARLIER
MADDIE
I sit up straight, suddenly wide-awake, and the hammock sways beneath me. “Luke! Did you hear that?”
He mumbles something unintelligible, so I shake him.
A second bang echoes toward us. Luke sits up, disoriented, and nearly turns the hammock over before he realizes where we are. “What was that?”
