Her heart raced as six men emerged from the trees, all armed, all dressed in military camouflage. One of them aimed a bulky-looking rifle at the aviary, and a stream of orange flame burst forth.

Another soldier ran to the building and burst through the door. “Miss, I’m here to escort you off the island.”

Kathy staggered toward him, her body still burning with pain. The soldier grabbed her upper arm and helped her through the door.

She felt the heat from the flames immediately. The soldiers were burning not just the aviary but much of the surrounding forest. The heat from the flames was almost unbearable as Kathy tried to keep up with the soldiers leading her away from the building. The billowing smoke from the burning trees stung her eyes, blinding her with tears.

Pausing for a second to wipe her eyes free of soot, Kathy gasped as a soldier threw her over his shoulder and moved forward, the others joining him. Kathy heard a whoosh and felt the heat of a flamethrower as it incinerated something up ahead. She could barely breathe through the smoke.

And then she was being placed in the open bay of a helicopter. Its blades were already beginning to turn.

Kathy coughed. Her chest ached from smoke. Panic rose in her chest, and she grabbed the arm of the soldier who had carried her. “Brad is out there still! You can’t leave him behind!” The engine of the helicopter whined ever louder.

The soldier’s face was covered with soot; it looked as if it had been carved from a block of stone. He frowned and shook his head. “Not man on island.” His voice was heavy with a German accent.

Another man placed an oxygen mask over her mouth and nose. “Breathe.”

She inhaled, and the world turned black.

Chapter Six

Kathy sat on the edge of a hospital bed in a spartan cinderblock room. She had an attached bathroom, but no windows, no view of the outside world. And no idea where she was.

It had been the middle of the night when the helicopter landed on a tropical island with almost no hint of civilization. Two men in lab coats took her in and silently treated her injuries. It had taken a while—she had dozens of gouges, each of which needed to be cleaned and stitched—but throughout it all, they’d refused to answer any of her questions. At least she’d been given access to a hot shower afterward, before being left here, completely alone in the barracks-like wing of the building.

She knew she should try to rest, but she couldn’t. She couldn’t even close her eyes without seeing Brad’s bloody face. And she couldn’t stop dwelling on the possibility—probability—that he might now be dead.