Page 14 of Knox's Mission

“No shit, Sherlock,” Amy quipped. She had a bad habit of responding with the first words that came to her mouth. It wasn’t a good habit. Or so she’d been told by her last three boyfriends consecutively. “You have to have some idea of how we’re getting out of here.”

“Plans in the jungle are a ridiculous fantasy,” he defended. “Nothing goes according to schedule in here. So, the task is to get back to base camp alive. How we get there will be determined by the jungleanyway. No point in kidding ourselves into thinking we’re in control.”

She couldn’t argue his logic. Nothing had worked out for her so far.

Not true,a voice in the back of her mind pointed out. Knox was here. His survival skills were unparalleled according to her brother and her brother knew him better than anyone.

Amy was still surprised that Knox hadn’t attended Garrett’s funeral. She wanted to know why. That was a subject for another time and place.

“What time is it?” she asked. Her phone was long gone, along with the other supplies she’d brought.

Knox checked his watch. “Late. We should probably figure out a place to bunk down for the night.”

Another night in this place made her skin crawl and set her nerves on edge. The monkey calls had returned now that the rain was gone and she listened for any variation in the sound. Variations, she’d read, could kill her because they were the means by which dangerous tribes communicated and indicated they were nearby.

Inside the tangled green walls of the jungle, the once-bright world was sunless. The light was filtered green, which obliterated any sense of time, or direction for that matter. Since grade school, she’d known the sun awoke in the east and set in the west. The trees were so thick she couldn’t see much past fifteenor twenty feet, which was also problematic with men—who blended into the environment—on her tail.

Vines tangled and crept in all directions. Donnie had used his knife to cut through them when they’d been together. That felt like a lifetime ago.

Leaves littered the ground, sometimes a foot and a half deep.

This place was surreal. And beautiful in its own way, as much as it was deadly.

Knox’s gaze shot left. He put a hand up to stop Amy and Lorna from following him as he crouched low, walking while practically sitting on his heels. With his back to her, she couldn’t see his expression but didn’t have to in order to realize he was in pain. He’d been limping earlier. Was the injury recent? Or a physical remnant from the helicopter crash he’d been in with her brother?

Slow and methodical, the man made no sound as he moved, which was a miracle considering how difficult it was to be quiet out here.

He stopped at the point where the trees became thicker, creating a wall.

His hand came up, fisted. It was a warning to stay back and stay put.

Lorna started to move. Amy put her hand on Lorna’s shoulder to stop her.

Knox looked to be examining something on the ground. Amy followed his gaze but whatever hestared at was too far away to see clearly. He moved around the area, checking the perimeter, occasionally pausing before returning to them.

“What is it?” Amy asked in a whisper.

“Jaguar droppings,” he supplied.

“This close to us?” she asked as her pulse kicked up a few notches.

He nodded. “And they’re fresh, meaning it’s close.”

Amy surveyed the area, searching for any signs of movement as Lorna attached herself to Amy’s back. There was an odd comfort in banding together. For now, Amy had to set aside her anger toward Lorna and keep the goal in focus. Getting back to base camp safely was the only priority.

“We can’t leave him,” Lorna whined. “Please.”

“Have you considered the possibility that he would have left you behind if you’d been the one chased?” Knox asked. “Believe me when I say that I understand loyalty and why it’s important. But the man left Amy out here to fend for herself in unknown territory, with no background or training to defend herself.”

Lorna lowered her chin onto Amy’s shoulder as she moved the two of them closer to Knox. Tightening up the ranks made sense for their survival. Knox just found a new best friend.

He reached for Amy’s hand and then linked theirfingers after shouldering his pack. Glancing at his watch, which she was close enough to realize had a compass, he figured out a direction and then headed that way. She had no idea if they were traveling north, south, east, or west at this point.

“Where are we going?” Amy asked, making as little noise as possible as she walked. She no longer had the burden of supplies which lightened her load but also left them more exposed.

“Away from here, so I can find a place to camp for the night. You need to rest,” he explained. With his free hand, he wielded a machete, slicing a path through thick vines with the kind of ease that makes it seem like an extension of his arm.

“I don’t need?—”

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