She kneels and I start packing the mud onto her collar, working it into every seam, every gap in the electronics. I scoop water over it, again and again, grinding the grit into the openings, hopefully reaching the circuits.
“Stop!” The man screeches. “Do not destroy the collars. I’ll push the fucking button!”
“Go ahead buddy, you do that,” I challenge, because he hasn’t even gotten his hunters on us yet. I hold the cards at the moment. I know the deal now, and I’m not above using the fuck out of that information.
Jade gasps when the ice-cold sludge hits her skin. Globs of it slide into the front of her dress, coating her chest. She’s shuddering, but she doesn’t pull away.
I do the same to my collar. Pack it thick. Drown it in creek water. Mic, camera, transmitter, I want it all choked.
Either he closes his rancid mouth or I killed the sound because it’s just us and the sound of the narrow river’s water when I’m finished.
“I’m freezing now,” Jade mouths, wrapping her arms around herself.
I strip off my T-shirt and pull it over her head, helping her find the arm holes. Then I kneel and start rubbing mud all over the skirt of her dress.
The yellow is a goddamn beacon.
She stares at me with a confused expression.
“Camo,” I mouth silently, but she’s shaking still, so I pull her close and whisper, “Do some jumping jacks to get your body temp up.”
She blinks at me. “Seriously?”
I nod and get back to work, scooping mud across my chest, my arms, my face. When I stand, I walk toward her with a glob on my fingers.
She’s making a clumsy attempt at jumping jacks—arms flailing, totally off-rhythm—and it nearly breaks me. The way Jade is trying so hard is the most beautiful, ridiculous thing I’ve ever seen.
“You’re doing great,” I tell her, hoarse.
I take her face in one hand, stilling her, and smear mud across her cheeks, her brow, under her eyes, over her chin.
“There. My warrior goddess.” I kiss her fast, tasting the salt of her earlier tears, pushing her hair back so I can look into those heart-stopping eyes. “Love you.”
“Love you too,” she chatters.
“Come.” I lace my fingers through hers and we leave the creek behind. No more climbing. We cut across the mountain now.
The forest opens a small degree. Game trails criss crossing in front of us. Trails to the water.
Not even a single insect is chirping. Ominous silence pressing in harder.
My sixth sense is going off hard.
There’s something here.
A mark on the ground stands out, as I carefully scan.
Jade holds my hand as I crouch, studying a few depressions in the dirt.
Boot prints. Not recent, but not old. They lead away from where we’re standing, a faint trail beaten into the underbrush.
Someone’s been coming here. Regularly.
CHAPTER 17
For the first time since I woke up zip-tied to a chair and saw Jade bound and terrified, cautious hope sparks to life.
This could be the break we need right now.
