Page 60 of Hunter's Mission

Another cry of agony bounced across the water.

Shit! Was that Hunter?

With my heart in my throat, I peered over the edge of the boat, searching the shoreline ahead. Relief turned my legs to rubber and made my kicks nearly useless. Hunter was on one knee, firing toward the jetty I’d just stolen the boat from.

At the old church, a dark silhouette emerged from the shadows and a sickening wave coursed through me at how calm Neville looked. Like he knew we would be killed. My heart pounded as I tried to make sense of what was happening. The man who had been my boss was working with the men trying to kill us.

Bile rose in my throat. He was not just feeding them alcohol. He had corrupted them with much more than that.

Neville had betrayed me, sabotaged my research, and now he was trying to kill me. All for what? Greed? Power? Sacred berries?

As Neville fired at me and Hunter, a twisted cocktail of emotions washed through me: fear, disgust, anger.

A shot whooshed across the water. Neville flew backward. Blood splattered the wall of the church. Neville crumpled to the ground, lifeless.

“Oh, God. Is he dead?”

Nausea burned my stomach and throat as my anger was replaced with sadness. Not for Neville—he deserved what he got—but for the villagers who had fallen victim to Neville’s bullshit.

I need to tell everyone what Neville has done.

Adrenaline pumped through my veins as I kicked harder and tried to wrestle the boat in the right direction.

As I neared Hunter, the gunfire became more frantic and the cold Amazon water seeped into my bones, adding to the terror that gripped my body. I pushed on, powered by thoughts of Hunter fighting to survive.

“Layla! keep going.” Hunter’s deep voice echoed to me, driving me on.

I peered over the edge of the boat again. Hunter had moved closer to the water’s edge.

Shit! What’s he doing? He has no cover there!

The relentless gunfire ripped into the wooden hull of the boat and thumped into the old motor.

Oh, God. Could the boat sink?

The wild current suddenly took hold of the vessel. I was no longer in charge; the mighty river was. The water churned around me, taking on a life of its own.

Oh, shit. I’m in trouble.

I peered over the boat. “Hunter! Help.”

He flicked his rifle around to his back, and as a bullet pinged off a rock near his feet, he dove into the river.

My heart threatened to burst.

A bullet slammed into the boat, barely an inch from my fingers. Shrieking, I ducked down, but I had to see where Hunter was. And I had to see who was still shooting at us.

Barely able to breathe, I peered over the edge of the boat.

Hunter’s strokes across the murky river were powerful and confident. His legs created a tornado of whitewater behind him.

“Come on, Hunter. Swim.”

Tiny eruptions of water exploded near him. Bullets!

I shot my gaze toward the jetty, and my eyes locked onto Neville. My stomach churned. Blood stained the front of his shirt near his left shoulder and his arm hung limp. But he was alive and that meant he was never going to give up. He wanted me dead. He wanted Hunter dead too, and Cody.

The boat was near the middle of the river, and Hunter was still several yards away.

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