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Back Jungle Up Save as PDF
Chapters (63)
  1. 1
  2. 2
  3. 3
  4. 4
  5. 5
  6. 6
  7. 7
  8. 8
  9. 9
  10. 10
  11. 11
  12. 12
  13. 13
  14. 14
  15. 15
  16. 16
  17. 17
  18. 18
  19. 19
  20. 20
  21. 21
  22. 22
  23. 23
  24. 24
  25. 25
  26. 26
  27. 27
  28. 28
  29. 29
  30. 30
  31. 31
  32. 32
  33. 33
  34. 34
  35. 35
  36. 36
  37. 37
  38. 38
  39. 39
  40. 40
  41. 41
  42. 42
  43. 43
  44. 44
  45. 45
  46. 46
  47. 47
  48. 48
  49. 49
  50. 50
  51. 51
  52. 52
  53. 53
  54. 54
  55. 55
  56. 56
  57. 57
  58. 58
  59. 59
  60. 60
  61. 61
  62. 62
  63. Author’s Note

I pulled my left hand out of my pocket and continued moving it up along my side. My hand came free of Bill’s knee.

Bill’s face swam above me in a tunnel of black. I watched his head swivel slightly, his gaze settling where my left hand was floating just above my ear.

I thrust my arm up and smashed the EpiPen into Bill’s eye, then slammed the plunger down with my thumb.

Bill screamed.

I felt the pressure come off my neck.

I sucked in a huge breath. Then another. The darkness at the edges of my vision evaporated by half with each inhale.

Bill rolled off of me, clawing at the EpiPen sticking in his right eye.

I was looking over my shoulder for the knife when I heard a loud gasp.

I turned.

Bill had removed the EpiPen, but his eye was destroyed. The needle and the force of the blow had split it in two, and blood filled the entire socket.

But Bill wasn’t holding his eye. He was holding his chest, his right hand clutched to his heart.

I pushed myself up to my knees with a grunt and crawled until I was directly over him.

He sucked in ragged breaths, his good eye open wide and pleading.

The adrenaline had caused the overweight and aging man to have a massive coronary.

“Bill,” I snapped. “Bill.”

His good eye settled on me.

I smiled and said, “I told you I was going to kill you.”

60

60

tribal village
august 23, 4:43 p.m.
days since abduction: 18

After Bill took his last breath, it took me a while to push myself to my feet. I had picked the knife up off the ground and was hobbling back to free Martin and Rix, when a gunshot rang out.

I turned.

Bill’s three goons had returned. Two stood over Bill’s corpse. A third strode toward me with his gun pointed at my chest, his brown face twisted in a snarl.

I could imagine why he was so upset. I’d just killed the man who had promised him $50,000.

I thought about anything I could offer the man, but I’d given my emergency money to Diego, and before we left, he in turn had given it to Carlos, who’d promised to get the $10,000 to Diego’s wife.

Martin was still tied up behind me. “Tell him I can arrange for him to be paid—the same amount, fifty grand—if he lets us go.”

I had no intention of paying the soldier. I was stalling.

Martin translated my offer to the soldier, but unlike Benecio, who had appeared to consider it for a fast second, the soldier shook his head.

I didn’t blame him. He would be risking too much. Freeing us might put him in jail or, worse, in the ground. If I were in his shoes, I’d kill us all, then clear out.