Page 50 of The Truths that Deceive
He’s big, strong, and he looks asleep.
The fucker drugged me, enough to knock me out for a few hours, and that fact disturbs me more than it should. I’m not sure why.
Like he didn’t want me out for too long, so why is…?
I stop myself from completing the thought.
Does it even matter?
One hand dangles off the edge of the bed, and it rests right over the backpack.
I hold my breath and ease it out from under him, stopping every time it makes the slightest of sounds.
But I finally get it free, letting out a silent but relieved breath. I back out of the room, eyes on him, as I clutch the pack to my chest.
The urge to run beats in time with my heart, but I don’t. Instead, I slip carefully back through the mission and out the front door, where I sit, shaking. Waiting.
If he gets up and I’m sitting out here, I’ve got a chance through it. A chance not to face his brand of retribution. I’ve tasted some, but not the dark stuff he claims he’s partial to.
And very willing to unleash, if I give him a reason.
Smith is my enemy.
I silently repeat that mantra.
I still don’t hear him, so I check the pack. Buried at the bottom are the passports, clothes, and a dead burner phone.I’m about to close it up and get out of here when something crinkles. Paper.
Shaking, I reach into the front pocket and pull out a folded, old-fashioned map.
I really don’t have time, but I can’t afford not to look. I open it and my heart leaps. Belize. And I trace a path through the edge of the jungle and down to where the city is. It’ll take a day, maybe two. Unless I can steal a vehicle.
I pull on my boots and tuck the map away. Then I walk slowly and carefully to the edge of the jungle. Once I step into the darkness where the pools of moonlight are splattered like paint, I wait.
Nothing.
No one.
But it’s like eyes are on me, watching.
And they probably are. The jungle’s full of creatures that thrive in the night. Yet, I can’t shake the feeling it’s more than that. I’m being hunted.
I pick up my pace, move faster, carefully, trying to stick to the shadows as I move deeper inside. There are paths all through here indicating that people do use the jungle. This place isn’t wild and impenetrable, so I keep to the shadows as much as I can, trying to keep noise to a minimum.
Something crunches to my right and my heart squeezes hard, sending a shot of white-hot adrenaline through me. Like electricity, it lights up all my nerve endings.
A whisper taunts me, and I don’t know if it’s in my head or real.
But the sentiment is.
Run.
I do.
I dart through the jungle, heading in the direction of wherethe city will eventually be. My lungs burn as vines and branches slap at me, scraping at my legs. I stumble over thick roots in my haste.
A bird loudly calls out and I almost scream.
The ground’s soft beneath my feet and it starts to clear, the last thing I want or need.
