Page 47 of Heat Force

Besides, they’d never make it in one go. They’d have to stop on one of the islands, which would leave them exposed and vulnerable. She shivered at the thought.

The alternatives weren’t much better. The jungle loomed dense and unforgiving along the shoreline, while the mountains above promised freezing temperatures and treacherous terrain. She sighed, willing herself to focus.

One step at a time, Lexi. You can do this.

But she didn’t know for how much longer.

She turned and went inside the hut where Moyo lay curled on a straw pallet, his breathing shallow. She knelt by his side, suppressing a sob. The boy’s dark lashes fluttered against his pale, clammy skin. The head wound, though no longer bleeding, had left him weak and concussed. Every time she thought about how he’d stepped in front of that rifle butt to protect her, her throat tightened. The memory of the sickening crack when it connected with his skull still haunted her.

He'd done it to save her, and she owed it to him to make sure he survived this. To make sure they all survived this.

Adjusting the makeshift bandage on his head, she whispered, “You’re so brave, Moyo. You’re going to be okay.” Her words felt hollow even to herself.

He had to be okay.

Hot tears pricked her eyes. She couldn’t live with herself if anything happened to him.

Patrick entered the hut. “The villagers say a French charity boat sometimes stops here to deliver supplies. It’s due tomorrow, but they’re not sure if it’s still running.”

She sucked in a breath as a sliver of hope took hold. “Tomorrow? Do you think we can hide out here until then?”

Patrick hesitated. “The rebels aren’t far behind us. They’ll eventually find this place. It’s only a matter of time.”

The weight of his words pressed down on her like a physical force. She looked at Moyo, so weak and fragile on the pallet. His feverish moans tore at her resolve. “He needs to get to a hospital,” she said, her voice firm. “We don’t have another choice. We have to wait for that boat.”

Patrick gave a grim nod, but she could tell he was worried. “Okay, we’ll stay until tomorrow, but Nomu and his son will keep watch tonight. If anything happens, we’ll have to move fast.”

Nomu, the village elder, had given them shelter without hesitation. His kindness was humbling, but it also filled her with guilt. These people had so little, yet they’d shared blankets, food, and had given them a safe space in which to hide.

The sky outside darkened, the first stars blinking into existence as the jungle’s symphony of night sounds began. Lexi settled down beside Moyo, her body heavy with exhaustion. She pulled a scratchy blanket around her shoulders, hoping it would ward off the night’s chill.

Patrick’s voice drifted from outside the hut. “I’ll keep the first watch,” he said, and she heard the creak of the rusty chair.

“Thanks. Wake me up when you need me to take over,” she called back, her eyelids already drooping. The scent of damp earth and the distant call of an owl lulled her into a restless sleep.

“Lexi, wake up!”

A rough hand shook her shoulder, pulling her from a vivid dream. Hawk was there with her, his warm chest under her head, his strong arms wrapping her in a cocoon of safety. For a blissful moment, she clung to the illusion.

The hand shook her again, harder this time. “Lexi, we have to go!”

Patrick!

Her eyes shot open, the smell of damp straw and mud dragging her back to harsh reality. Her friend loomed over her, his face tense.

“What’s happening?” she whispered, scrambling upright.

“They’re here. Nomu saw them coming.” His voice was low and urgent. “We have to move. Now.”

“Moyo?” She turned to the boy, who was already stirring. His eyes fluttered open, dull and unfocused.

“I’m okay,” he said weakly, though his voice was barely a whisper.

Lexi’s heart twisted. He was anything but okay, but there was no time to argue. She helped him sit up, but he flagged against her.

“You’ll have to carry him,” she told Patrick. “He can’t walk.”

Patrick bent over and scooped the boy into his arms. “We’ll follow the path toward the hills,” he said. “The rebels won’t expect us to head that way.”

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