Page 4 of Kristoff

CHAPTER TWO

Brianna

The little plastic bag with half a dozen pills is tucked under my breast. I hadn’t thought to use them, but I missed getting off the truck at the designated spot. Unfortunately a vehicle was behind us and didn’t bother to go around even though the truck slowed to a crawl. His partner complained about the speed, and he stepped on the gas. Now I’m hours away from the rendezvous and missed making contact with the pickup.

Rolling my bottom lip, I pull the bag from its hiding place. The rough plastic edge scratches at me as the warning echoes in my head.Don’t take more than one every twenty-four hours. It’ll be enough to keep you going.

Pulling apart the plastic opens the zipper. Taking a fortifying breath, I tap the bag, dropping a pill into the center of my palm before I press the top together and tuck the baggie back into my cleavage.Too late to back out now. I pop the pill in my mouth and swallow hard before I change my mind. Now more than ever, I’ll need the strength to make the long walk to the coast.

Minutes tick by in time with my heartbeat as my anxiety grows. I push up on my knees, straining to hear above the distant laughter riding the night air. There were a few seconds where I thought I heard an uproar. Is that enough distraction? I chew on my lip for a bit. Well, now is as good a time as any to follow plan B. I still can’t quite bring myself to say this is the worst-case scenario.

Taking care to be cautious, I peek out over the pallets in the back of the transport vehicle. If anything went wrong, we’d stop at a bar set at the entrance of a village halfway through their route. I’d have to get out here because the truck might be stopped and searched by one of the checkpoint monitors or police based at ranger stations. Apparently, a truckload of drugs is fine, but if they find one American they’ll have a meltdown.

Heart pounding with each second, I hurry along the narrow space by the outside wall, checking the area one last time. The clearing extends to the front and right. To the left is a two-story wooden building, which should be the bar. Confirming nobody’s in sight, I toss a leg over the tailgate, balancing on the side until I can jump down. Dusting my side and skirt, I walk away, trying my best to act as if I belong.

Should I try to find a bicycle? Otherwise, I’ll have to walk through the jungle, paralleling the road. That’s dangerous enough when you consider the animals roaming around, and snakes big enough to stop traffic can lurk on the ground or in a tree. Say I survive both; it’s still a week or so to reach Georgetown by foot.

“Are you kidding?” A man says somewhere behind me. “I’m not gonna admit we stopped here.”

The air practically freezes at my temples, sweeping over my ears and down my back.

“Me, either,” a second man agrees. “Oooh, now she’s a sight worth stopping for.” He gives a low whistle.

My stomach flip-flops, and I fight the urge to run.

“How can you see a girl in the dark, you crazy fuck?”

“The white dress showsallher curves,” he says loud enough to carry across the open area.

I press my fingers over my thumb, flattening it out. If only I had the change of clothes my contact was supposed to have waiting for me. I’ve been stuck wearing knee-length dresses for the last two years because it’s whata proper young ladywould wear.

“Get in the truck.” The man sounds annoyed. “We need to hit the road.”

My heart hammers against my chest as I reach the end of the building. Trying my best to hold a steady step, I duck around the corner, flattening myself against the weathered boards.

“Sure,” his partner replies. “Now you’re in a hurry.” The truck door squeaks in protest, making me cringe. “You’re going to owe me another drink after I helped you clean up in there. Don’t think I’ll let you forget.” The doors slam, one after another, then the engine turns on. Seconds later, they’re on the road.

In the distance, a group of boys play ball as several others look on. They’re close enough to notice if I head for the trees. Damn this dress. I’ll have to head back in the direction we came and hide. Once everyone goes to sleep, I’ll try to skirt the village and continue on my way.

“I’m heading up,” a man’s deep voice filters from inside the building.

The screen door swings back to slam against the wall. I scramble around the corner of the building, trying to keep covered until I can disappear into the night.

“I’ll toss the trash into the burn pit,” a second man adds. “Then I’ll lock up.” I peek over as he strides out, a dark T-shirt stretched across his shoulders.

“Be careful,” the man inside warns.

The second guy stops, facing away from me, holding a bag and a large trash can, as if they weigh nothing.

“Celia said a couple of kids saw a jaguar hanging around.”

Just what I need.

“Okay,” the man replies as he walks away, whistling a tune.

The door stays wide open. Without really thinking about moving, I find myself at the doorway. Boards creak as someone moves around upstairs.

The hallway sits in shadow, a door to the right and two on the left. Maybe I can find a place to lock myself in, a bathroom or something. I can start out first thing in the morning.

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