Page 44 of Hearts Of Darkness

“I’ll steer clear, I promise.”

“You don’t have a choice. There are over two hundred guards patrolling that site.” Her voice drops to a conspirative whisper. “No one enters that place without his permission.”

I chooseto eat my breakfast on the beach. There are armed men stationed equidistant all around me, but they’re starting to blend in with the scenery. It’s like I’m becoming immune to their lethal presence.

Closing my eyes, I lick my fingers clean of the peanut butter. If I could shut out my thoughts, I could almost be back on South Beach.

Almost.

Kicking off my sandals, I dig my toes into the warm sand and watch a white hermit crab scuttle past, half-hidden in hisshell. I wish I had a disguise like that. I can’t do anything on this damn compound without Dante’s consent.

I chase the edge of the tide all the way up to the rock pools at the far point. From here, I can finally get a sense of the scale of this place. It’s much bigger than I thought. There are miles and miles of stunning coastline stretching far out into the distance, and no hope of an escape.

On my way back to the house, I take a detour past sector six. I can’t help myself. When I’m denied entry to a place, I have a natural compulsion to go and check it out.

Is this where Dante’s soldiers live?

Is this where they train to be killers for men like the Santiagos?

The barracks consist of eight large structures, as far as I can tell. I learn this by counting the corrugated roofs rising up from behind a six-foot security fence topped with barbed wire. The men in the security towers nod brusquely at me, and they never take their hands off their guns for a second. The whole area has an eerie, regimented vibe that’s incongruous with the sweeping elegance of his mansion.

Following the track past the barracks, I keep on walking until I find myself at the opposite end of the pony field I discovered yesterday.

The same gray lifts his head as I approach. I hold out the last of my apple slices, and he moves leisurely in my direction before burying his velvet nose in my hand and chomping nosily as I run my hand down his neck and ruffle his mane.

“Hey there, beautiful,” I croon, admiring the dapple markings on his hindquarters. He’s tall, at least sixteen hands, and his ears are constantly flicking back and forth as he nuzzlesmy side for more apple.

He’s so inquisitive. He hasn’t developed that bored tolerance for humans that I’ve seen in other horses.

“You like him?”

I turn in surprise. The young guard from yesterday is standing right behind me, along with two other men. He slings his gun over his shoulder and makes to come over, but his companions look horrified. They grab his arm and start speaking in quick-fire Spanish, but they’re shrugged off easily enough.

The gray nudges me again as the guard approaches. I smile up at the horse and give him another pat.

“We had many like this where we grew up.” He bats the gray lightly on the nose. “This one is such apríncipe… ‘prince’ I think you say.”

“Like his master,” I mutter.

He laughs, and I can’t help thinking how attractive he is. He’s shorter and leaner than Dante, but his eyes are much lighter and less burdened. “Señor Dante is no prince. He is more like a king. Some say he’s the true King of Colombia.”

They do?

Right away the other men start firing Spanish at him again, and he snaps back with a retort. In the end, they throw their hands up in the air and walk off, muttering darkly to one another.

“What was all that about?” I ask him.

He grins at me sheepishly. “They don’t think I should be making conversation with Señor Dante’s lady.”

“You can tell them I’m not Señor Dante’sanything,” I say tersely. “And I do have a mind of my own, you know.”

“Ay-yai-yai! I did not mean to insult you!” He throws his hand up in defense.

“You didn’t.” I sigh and tuck a stray wisp of hair behind my ear. “It’s a touchy subject.” I like this man. He has an openness and honesty about him, which makes me wonder how the hell he ended up in Dante’s army. “It’s Manuel, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“Nice to meet you, Manuel. Are you from Colombia too?”

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