Page 5 of Sohut's Protection

It was dead.

She was sure of it.

A spike of sadness for the creature turned into iron that strengthened her resolve.

Right.

She wasn’t going to let that happen to her.

She was going to get out of this…somehow…one way or the other.

A little whimper to her right had her glancing at the Chihuahua-monkey and it blinked at her with sad eyes as if it was having the same thoughts.

“I know little guy,” she whispered as the animal’s big brown eyes locked on hers. “Be strong.”

* * *

She’d been right about them heading toward lots of vegetation.

First, it was just a few small orange shrubs and one and two trees, but now, on both sides, there was a fully fledged jungle filled with yellow-orange flora.

It looked like she’d been dropped into a strange magical world, and if she wasn’t in her current situation, she might have stopped to appreciate the strangeness of the view.

Instead, there was only one thing on her mind—getting off the damned cart.

The road only seemed to get bumpier the deeper into the jungle they went, and they’d been traveling for so long, she could tell the sun was starting to go down.

Cleo grabbed the bars of her cage, pressing her lips together as she did.

She’d probably have one chance to do this and only one.

From the dusty road to where they were now, her cage had drifted increasingly closer to the edge of the cart. If she put her weight on it, with the next big jolt, it would topple and she’d go tumbling into the jungle beyond.

At least, that’s what she was hoping would happen.

She wasn’t exactly Stephen Hawking.

Her gaze moved to the dead mermaid before her, and she swallowed hard.

The alien’s scales were now almost completely white—a sickly white—and the more she looked at it, the more her resolve hardened.

She needed to get off the cart.

If she did manage to get out, she’d make a run for it and hope no alien jaguars were waiting for her in the bushes beyond.

It was her only hope.

Her father had been a man of the wild, able to survive anywhere and in the harshest of situations.

To her, he’d been like The Crocodile Hunter.

Fearless.

Everything Thomas Barlow knew, he’d taught her.

And now, as she stared into the yellow-orange jungle before her, she knew this might be the time all those skills he’d taught her came into play.

As her cage jerked again, tipping dangerously close to the edge, Cleo’s heart caught in her throat.

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