Page 67 of Wild Fever
The ringleader smiled. "That's okay. I'm a quick learner.” Chivo said to his underlings, “Take these two outside, away from the lab, and kill them.”
Dr. Malcolm’s face went long, and his eyes bugged out.
I can't say I was too thrilled about the news either. Kara seemed unaffected. It was just a shortening of an already shortened timeline.
40
Chivo’s goons marched us away from the lab, through the thick underbrush. The sun had vanished, and the sky had turned midnight blue. You couldn’t see much of it through the dense canopy of leaves overhead.
With a gun at my back, I took cautious steps forward, knowing the area was lined with tripwires. At this time of night, and without a flashlight, it was next to impossible to see the monofilament.
The beam of the goon’s tactical flashlight affixed to the barrel of his AR swept across the ground from time to time.
I continued taking cautious steps, only to be shoved in the back by the barrel of the gun. "Move faster, gringo!”
I don't think this asshole knew what we were walking into. I waspoint manon this precarious journey. Diego was behind me. Behind him, Kara. Behind her, two other goons. Chivo remained in the lab with Vernon.
A few more paces, and Diego's flashlight raked across the ground. It caught the tripwire. For an instant, the monofilament glimmered in the light like silk.
"Kara, slow down," I shouted.
That earned me another punch in the back with the barrel of the AR. "Shut up and keep moving.”
I continued marching forward and casually stepped over the monofilament.
Kara drew out her steps. She knew what kind of threat was imminent.
KABOOM!
Diego tripped the wire, and the makeshift booby-trap spat dragon's breath and birdshot. The blast took out his knees, and Diego crumpled to the ground, screaming in agony. Blood soaked his shredded pants.
The distraction was enough for Kara to spin around, grab the barrel of the rifle held by the goon behind her, and kick him in the balls.
With a swift move, she stripped the weapon from his grasp, shouldered the rifle, and double-tapped the last thug in line.
Bullets pelted his chest, staggering him back. Crimson blossomed his shirt, and he sucked in gurgling breaths. He fell back and collapsed in the dirt.
By that time, I had snatched Diego's rifle. He drew a pistol from his waistband—my pistol.
I popped off two shots into his chest before he could take aim.
Kara finished off the goon she had kicked in the balls.
The jungle went quiet, save for the sound of crickets. Gun smoke drifted away on the breeze.
I grabbed my pistol from Diego's sweaty palm, holstered it in my waistband, then moved back down the trail to Kara. "Are you okay?”
"Never better," she snarked. It may have been a stretch, but the adrenaline of combat was exhilarating. Sometimes you never felt more alive than on the verge of death—Kara was standing on the precipice.
There was no doubt Chivo heard the commotion.
Kara and I hustled back toward the lab.
A groan of agony filtered out from within and echoed through the trees, followed by two quick shots. A third followed a moment later.
I wasn't sure what we’d find when we returned.
We hurried through the underbrush and climbed up the squeaky wooden steps to the veranda. We held up on either side of the door and exchanged a look.
