But they’d never gone without. And there’d beenenough food to ensure Knox had a warm meal every day.
His father, on the other hand, had money to spare. He drove a flashy Corvette but there never seemed to be food in the house or enough money for Knox to get a car. Once, she’d overheard her mom whispering to Garrett that Blaine Preston could sell his expensive sports car and buy two practical vehicles. She’d said the man would rot in hell for his deeds, but Amy didn’t truly understand what that meant until now, until the scars, until Knox’s admission that his father put them on Knox’s body.
Knox stopped again; fist came up.
Amy listened for the monkey calls or any other sound that didn’t scan with the ones she’d heard so far. More preparation was needed for this trip as she remembered her camera that was always within arm’s reach or hanging around her neck on a strap. In the heat of the moment, she’d stopped filming.
At this point, she could put together quite a film if she made it out of this place alive.
Grabbing her camera, she picked up filming as they continued on. The threat must have passed but she got the creepy-crawly feeling it was still all around them. There likely were other tribes in the area. There were other men in those battle-fatigue getups. Some were good guys, working for the government or so she’d been told. Some werestraight-up bad guys, like drug runners who used the jungle as cover because no one in their right mind would come into this place for no reason.
Before this trip, Amy read there were eight thousand people who disappeared in the Brazilian Amazon in one year alone. Violence and crime were counted as the reason but she suspected large-scale government coverups were also to blame. Those were the disappearances on record. She could scarcely imagine how many more there must be. No one kept records of the tribes. Their hunters went out to find meat on a regular basis. How many came back? How many encountered rival tribes competing in the same location for food? How many were given to the river in the form of alligators, anacondas, and God only knew what else? Jaguars?
Tourists would be accounted for, by and large. How many vacationers set out for the trip of a lifetime only to disappear or become prey?
This probably wasn’t the time to recount those facts. It wasn’t helping ease her mind about the possibility of spending another night out here.
After getting deep sleep last night, she could make it twenty-four hours with none. Probably more. Given the current situation, she doubted she could fall asleep. The only reason she’d been able to last night had to do with being curled up against Knox in a hammock that was protected from blood-suckingmosquitoes. The villagers looked out for one another and the huts were free of creatures that would take her life with one bite.
None of those conditions applied here.
They were back out in the jungle with no protection, aside from each other: Lorna watching their backs; Knox keeping an eye on what lay ahead of them; Amy with her camera, panning back and forth to make certain no one came at them from the sides. And hours of walking.
The jungle went from dark to light to misty and back. Time meant nothing in here because even the light was heavily filtered with green the times it peeked through the canopy.
Listening became the pastime. Amy listened for any variation in the monkey calls. If they had to spend the night here, she could review the sounds with Knox and Lorna. He might be ahead of the game when it came to separating real monkey calls from tribal voices, but Amy and Lorna could use a review.
Amy’s thoughts bounced back to Donnie. Had he come here without telling Lorna? Did he have friends? Allies? Had he bargained for his life? Tossed her in the ring?
With no way to ask, she had to march ahead. When they’d had him, though, she wished she’d thought to ask more questions.
Would he answer honestly?
She highly doubted it.
Night fell based on the time on her camera and they hadn’t stopped to eat or rehydrate. At this point, sweat covered her in places she didn’t know she could sweat. Breathing the soupy air made physical activity harder. It made breathing harder.
This probably wasn’t the time to wish she’d stuck with her running routine back in Houston. Or, as long as she was wishing, that she hadn’t taken this assignment when all the warning bells sounded after being tricked. Was she getting too desperate to launch her career?
If she made it out of this jungle alive, she needed to reassess her life choices up to this point. This project had been the equivalent of a Hail Mary pass anyway. It wasn’t panning out. She couldn’t regret it, though. She’d met the love of her brother’s life. She’d been reunited with the elusive Knox Preston. She’d gotten her answer as to what might happen if they met up again as adults this time.
Closure?
“The extraction point is still far,” Knox whispered. “We can take another break to eat and rehydrate here.”
Here, meant sitting by the riverbank. It was probably safer in many ways but still made her skin crawl.
“Hold on,” Amy said as she panned over the top of the water. “I think I just saw one.”
“One what?” Lorna asked with a little pep in her voice. It was the first real sign she would recover after breaking up with Donnie.
“Anaconda,” Amy supplied.
“Where?” Lorna’s attitude improved a thousand-fold.
“Right there.” As Amy spoke, a green snake body slid in and out of the water near the edge.
Amy’s breath caught in her throat. For a moment, she couldn’t find words to speak.