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Eric Hoffer

 
 
 
 
 
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Chapter 6
erry sank down onto the bank of the river. She was thoroughly dispirited. Her shoulders sagged with defeat. The toddler, Lisa, seemed to have gained fifty pounds overnight. Kerry couldn’t hold her for another minute without dropping her. She set the child on the ground beside her.
"Now what?"
She got no answer. Several moments ticked by. Even the children were still, as though realizing that they faced a serious problem that might not have a solution. Shading her eyes with her hand, Kerry glanced up at the man standing beside her.
Hands on hips, one knee bent, brows lowered, eyes glowering, mouth frowning, it wasn’t difficult to assess Linc’s mood. Kerry watched his lips form a crude expletive that he didn’t dare speak aloud in front of the children, even though they didn’t understand English.
She diplomatically let a few more moments go by before she tried again. "Linc?" His head snapped around and he glared down at her. "How the hell should I know? I’m a photographer, not an engineer."
Linc immediately regretted lashing out at her. It wasn’t Kerry’s fault that the heavy rains the night before had caused local flooding and that the wooden bridge he had planned to use to get across the river had been washed out.
It wasn’t even her fault that he was in such a foul mood. She was the reason for it, but she wasn’t to blame. Ever since he had helped her crawl out of the cover where they had passed the night, he’d been ready to take somebody’s head off at the slightest provocation.
"You’d better put these on." He angrily tossed her her clothes after he’d retrieved them from where he’d hidden them the night before.
She hadn’t taken issue with his brusqueness, but had quickly stepped into her khaki trousers. Unable to tear his eyes away from her long, lovely, fantasy-inspiring legs, Linc had watched every supple movement. His loins had ached with the recollection of her thighs being entwined with his.
Had it really happened? Had he only dreamed that her body perfectly complemented his? Had she curled up against him, actually seeking contact, or had he just wished it so hard that it had seemed real?
Maybe so, because all morning they had fenced with each other. They hardly behaved like two people who had slept together like lovers. They hadn’t even been friendly. She’d been cautious and wary of him; he’d been truculent and quarrelsome.
When they returned to the house and found the children in the kitchen instead of in the cellar, Linc had yelled at Joe. "I thought I told you to stay down there until I came to get you."
"I heard the soldiers leave," the boy shot back. "I knew it was safe."
"You don’t know sh-"
"Linc!"
"When I tell you do to something I expect you – "
"Linc!" Kerry had shouted again. "Stop yelling at Joe. All the children are safe, but you’re frightening them."
Linc had cursed beneath his breath as he headed for the front of the house. "Get them ready. I’ll be back in five minutes."
Luckily the truck was where he had left it the evening before, concealed by jungle vines. He slashed at them viciously, working out some, but only some, of his frustration.
"The children are hungry," ferry told him from behind the screened door when he bellowed from the front lawn for them to load up.
Stormily he had followed her back into the kitchen, where the orphans were gratefully eating stale bread and bananas. Kerry had helped them wash their faces and hands, which had become grimy in the cellar. None of them looked at Linc directly, sensing his mood, but he felt eight pairs of eyes frequently glancing in his direction. The ninth pair, belonging to Joe, openly defied him. Animosity simmered between the man and the adolescent boy, who hadn’t taken kindly to the blistering lecture.
Little Lisa had squirmed free of Kerry’s arms and crossed the kitchen floor bearing a dry crust of bread. Her eyes were sympathetic and imploring as she gazed up at Linc and tugged on the knee of his fatigue pants to get his attention. He looked down at her. She offered him the crust of bread wordlessly. But her eyes, as dark and rich as chocolate syrup, spoke volumes.
Linc crouched down, took the piece of bread from her, and ate it. "Muchas gracias," he said and cuffed her on the chin. Lisa flashed him a dazzling smile before shyly scampering back to Kerry.
It was a while before he had cleared his throat enough to say gruffly, "Let’s go."
When all the children had been placed in the truck, he drew Kerry aside. "Call off your watchdog."
"What are you talking about?"
"Joe. Make it clear to him that I didn’t compromise you last night. I’m afraid to turn my back on him for fear he’ll slide a knife between my ribs."
"Don’t be ridiculous."
"Tell him!"
"All right!"
Those had been the last words they had exchanged until now, when, with her eyes shaded from the glaring sun, she had looked up at him and spoken his name.
Apparently her nerves were just as frayed as his. She lashed back. "That’s what I’m paying you for, Mr. O’Neal. To come up with ideas. To improvise."
"Well, maybe you should have checked out my credentials more carefully before offering me the goddamn job."
Kerry had no argument for that, so she clamped her mouth shut and returned her stare to the rushing water.
Why did she always make him look like a snarling beast in front of the kids? They were watching him as though he were a cross between Jack the Ripper and Moses, afraid of him, but looking to him for leadership.
He blew out an exasperated breath. "Give me a minute, Okay?" he said, raking his fingers through his sweat-damp hair.
The bridge was clearly indicated on the map, but apparently hadn’t been that substantial. The rising current, due to last night’s torrential rains, had been sufficient to tear it from its moorings.
The truck had rolled to a stop where the road ended in the swirling, murky water. The children had piled out and now stood on the bank, looking to him for answers he didn’t have. Joe seemed to derive a perverse satisfaction from their predicament; his lip was curled with smug derision. And quite clearly, Kerry was leaving the solution up to him. As she had pointed out, that’s what she was paying him for. He would have to earn every red cent of that fifty grand.
He gnawed on his lip as he studied the river. Then he went back to the truck, picked through the supplies in the bed of it, and returned to Kerry. "I need to talk to you."
She stood, brushed off the seat of her pants, instructed the children not to get too close to the water, and followed him. When they had moved out of earshot, she asked, "What do we do now?"
"I have a suggestion, and please hear it out before you fly off the handle." He fixed his golden stare on her. "Let’s load the kids up, turn around and go back the way we came. Let’s throw ourselves on the mercy of the first troops we see."
He paused, expecting an explosion. When it didn’t happen, he pressed on. "It won’t matter which side we align ourselves with, El Presidente’s or the rebels. Whichever it is, we’ll appeal to their vanity, tell them what a humanitarian gesture it would be for them to help us. We’ll promise to propagandize their cause to the world if they’ll only help us."
He laid his hands on her shoulders and appealed to her earnestly.’ ‘Kerry, the kids are hungry and we have no more food. Our clean water is running out, and I’m not sure where we’ll find more. I don’t know how in hell to get across that river without risking all our lives. The truck is almost out of gas and there are no Exxon stations in the jungle.
"Even if we do make it to the rendezvous point, how do you know for certain that this Hendren fellow will be there to pick us up and whisk us away into the wild blue yonder like some Sky King?"
He saw her eyes darken and hastened to add, "Look, this was a noble idea. I admire you; I really do. But it wasn’t a very practical plan, not very well thought out. Now you’ll have to admit that." He smiled at her engagingly. "What do you say?"
Kerry drew a deep breath, though she never released him from her gaze. When she spoke, her voice was level and calm. "I say that unless you want my knee rammed into your crotch, you’d better take your hands off my shoulders."
His smile collapsed. His face went comically blank. His hands fell quickly to his sides.
She pivoted stiffly and marched away. But she got only a few steps away from him before he lunged, shoved his hand into the waistband of her pants and yanked her to a teeth- jarring halt. "Just a damn minute," he shouted. He spun j her around. "Didn’t anything I said to you register?"
She tried to wiggle free, but this time his hold on her was inescapable. "I heard every patronizing, condescending, chicken-hearted word."
"You’re determined to go on?"
"Yes! Once we cross the river, it’s only a few more miles to the border."
"It might just as well be a thousand."
"I promised these children that I would get them to the families waiting for them in the United States, and that’s what I’m going to do. With or without you, Mr. O’Neal." She pointed her index finger at the end of his nose.’ ‘And if you desert us now, you’ll never see a penny of your precious money."
"I care more for my life than I do the money."
"Well you’ve got a better chance of keeping both by getting us to that airplane instead of turning yourself over to a band of guerrillas. What happened to all your warnings about getting shot and gang raped? Do you really think that I’d ask a favor from any of these troops?"
"Most of them, whichever side they fight for, come from Catholic backgrounds. Your profession would protect you."
"It hasn’t protected me from you!"
His face turned stony. Before Kerry had time to regret her words, he yanked her high and hard against him. He snarled, "Wanna bet?"
Heetingly she recalled the many times he could have taken advantage of her and hadn’t. Unable to meet that fierce, masculine glare, which was as hard and unyielding as the lower part of his body, she moved her gaze down to his throat where she spotted his pulse beating as rapidly as her own.
"I’m sorry," she said breathlessly. "I shouldn’t have said that."
"You sure as hell shouldn’t have." He shoved her away, but she got the impression that it was to spare himself embarrassment and not out of any kind feelings toward her. His strong fingers were still curled around her shoulders.
"Don’t be deceived," he said in a voice that throbbed with passion. "Just because I haven’t touched you, doesn’t mean that I haven’t thought about it. A lot. You’re not concealed by a habit yet. When you go flashing that dynamite body of yours around a man, you had better be willing to accept the consequences. Some might have even fewer scruples than me."
Her head came up slowly, until her eyes again met his. "Then why would you even suggest that I turn myself and these children over to the soldiers?"
He released her. Each of his ten fingers let go separately, as though being individually pried away. "I had to see how tough you really are."
She looked at him aghast. "You mean… this was all… you didn’t really mean – "
"That’s right. This was a test of your mettle. I had to know if you’ve got guts."
She backed away from him. Her hands were balled into fists as though prepared to hit him. Dark blue eyes narrowed to threatening slits. "You son of a bitch."
Linc’s lips quirked. Then he threw back his head and laughed. It was a loud and wholesome laugh, so loud that it disturbed the birds and small monkeys in the branches overhead. They squawked and chattered in protest. "Damned right, Sister Kerry. I’m a son of a bitch. And I’m gonna get worse. If we make it through this alive, you’re gonna hate me before we’re through. Now, round up the kids while I get everything ready."
Before she could tell him just how loathsome she thought his tricky tactics were, he was stalking back toward the track. She had no choice but to do as she was told. The orphans were hot, hungry, thirsty and exhausted, so she tolerated their querulousness. She answered their whining questions as best she could, but her attention was really on Linc. He was busy securing the end of a rope, which had been in the back of the pickup when she stole it, to the trunk of a tree. Tying the other end around his waist, he waded into the swift current.
"What are you doing?" she called, surging to her feet in alarm.
"Just keep everybody back."
The children fell silent. All stood in tense silence as Linc made unsteady progress across the muddy river. When he reached the middle where it was too deep to stand up, he began swimming. Numerous times the swift current sucked him under. And each time, Kerry clasped her hands together, holding her breath, until she saw his head break the surface again.
At last he made it to the opposite side. The water dragged at his clothes as he pulled himself up the spongy bank. Once he reached firm ground, he dropped to his knees, hung his head, and gulped air into his lungs.
When he had regained his breath, he selected a stout tree trunk and tied the rope around it. He tested it several times before wading into the river again. He pulled himself across on the rope. It wasn’t as strenuous as swimming, but even so, it was exhausting work to fight the current. It took him several moments to recover once he had reached them.
‘‘ Got the idea?’’ He was bent at the waist, bis palms resting on his knees, when he lifted his head and glanced up at Kerry. His hair was plastered to his head. Several sodden strands striped his forehead. His eyelashes were wetly clumped together. Kerry was tempted to comb the hair off his forehead and touch his bristly jaw. To keep from touching him, she actually had to squeeze her fist so tightly that her nails bit into her palm.
"Yes, I get the idea, but what about the truck?"
"It stays. We go the rest of the way on foot." "But – " The objection died on her lips. Only minutes ago he had tested her fortitude. He had all but promised her that the going from here on would be a nightmare. She had insisted on bucking the odds. "All right," she said softly. "What do you want me to do?"
"You take Lisa. Carry her piggyback. I’ll get Mary. Joe," he said hitching his chin toward the eldest boy, "you get Mike this time. You and I will have to make several trips I’m afraid."
The boy nodded his head in understanding.
"I can make more than one trip," Kerry said.
Linc shook his head no. "You’ll need to stay on the other side with the children. This is no joy ride, believe me. Explain the procedure to them, and for god’s sake stress to them that they must hold on tight."
As she translated for the children, she tried to make crossing the river sound like a grand adventure, at the same time emphasizing how treacherous it could be and how vital it was for them to hold on to the adult carrying them.
"They’re ready," she told Linc as she bent down and let Lisa climb onto her back. The child’s arms folded around her neck and her ankles criss-crossed in front of Kerry’s waist.
"Good girl, Lisa," Linc said, tousling the child’s glossy hair.
When she beamed a smile up at him, he returned her grin and patted her back. Kerry looked up at him, marveling over his soft expression. He caught her surprised look, and they exchanged a brief stare before he turned away and leaned down so Mary could climb onto his back.
"Have you got your passport?" he asked Kerry.
They would have to travel light from now on. She had discarded everything she didn’t absolutely need. "It’s buttoned into my shirt pocket."
"Okay, let’s go." He led the way into the churning water.
Kerry tried not to remember ail the tales she had heard about the jungle river creatures. She ignored the slimy things that bumped into her feet and legs as she sought firm footing on the slippery mud of the river’s bottom. She crooned comforting words to Lisa, but the reassurances were meant for herself as well as for the crying child.
The rope, not too strong to begin with, was slippery now. It was difficult to hold on to. If it hadn’t meant the difference between living and drowning, she would have let go long before she reached the middle of the river. By then her palms were bleeding.
When she stepped onto nothingness and her feet were swept from beneath her, she was terrified of never breaking the surface. Finally she pulled herself up and made certain that Lisa’s head had cleared, too. Gallons of water had rushed up Kerry’s nose and into her eyes and mouth. She was blinded and gasping for air. But she forced herself to work her way along the rope, going hand over hand.
After what seemed like hours instead of minutes, she felt strong hands molding to her armpits and lifting her out of the water. With Lisa still on her back, she collapsed into the soft, warm, squishy mud of the river bank and sucked in coveted air. Linc lifted Lisa off her back. Kerry’s muscles quivered with exertion, but she pulled herself to her hands and knees and eventually rolled to a sitting position.
Linc was holding Lisa in his arms. Her face was buried in his throat. Her tiny hands were clutching bis soaked tank top. He was stroking her back, kissing her temple, rocking her gently back and forth, and murmuring words of encouragement and praise, even though she could understand only his inflection. Kerry envied the child. She wanted to be rocked. Held. Kissed. Reassured. "You did fine," he said.
It was hardly a lavish compliment, but Kerry had only enough energy to give him a wavering smile anyway. He pulled Lisa away and, after kissing her cheek, passed her to Kerry. Mary was sobbing quietly nearby. Kerry gathered the two girls and young Mike in her arms. They made a pitiful, soggy, sorry-looking group, but all were grateful to be alive.
"Keep this," Linc said, dropping the machete, the only weapon they had, down onto the ground near Kerry’s feet. "You okay?" he asked Joe. "Of course," the boy said haughtily. "Let’s go then."
They waded back into the water. Kerry didn’t know where they found the strength. She could barely keep her head up. Linc and Joe made three more trips each, until all the children had been safely transported across the river. On the last trip, Joe helped one of the older girls along, while Linc carried two backpacks, crammed with their meager supplies.
Tears formed in Kerry’s eyes as she watched Linc sling his camera bags into the muddy waters of the rushing river. He had ripped the plastic lining out of one of the bags and wrapped his film cannisters in it, then strapped the makeshift package to his torso with his webbed belt.
Kerry had felt contrition as she watched him carry out this sobering task. She had manipulated this man unmercifully. He would be home, safe in the United States, pursuing his profession, if it weren’t for her.
The only thing that eased her conscience was looking into the hopeful faces surrounding her. And she knew that, if she had it to do over again, she would take whatever measures were necessary to guarantee these orphans a brighter future.
As soon as Linc reached the bank after crossing the river for the last time, Kerry expected him to collapse and rest. Instead his movements were quick and lively.
"Hurry, Kerry, get all the children back into the trees. Have them lie down and tell them not to move."
Even as she carried out his instructions, she asked him. "What’s the matter?"
"I think we’re about to have company. Quick now! Joe, tell those girls to be quiet. Everybody lie down."
After having made certain that they’d left no traces behind and slashing the rope from the tree trunk, Linc dove for cover in the deep undergrowth beneath the trees. He lay on his stomach beside Kerry, staring out over the river. His breathing was rapid and heavy.
"You’re exhausted," she whispered.
"Yeah."
His eyes didn’t waver from the truck on the other side of the bank. Much as Kerry had despised that pickup, she missed the security of it now. "Do you think someone is following us?"
"I don’t think they were deliberately following us. But someone is behind us. I heard them."
"Who?"
"It won’t matter when they see the truck belonging to El Presidente’s army and the rope."
"If it’s El Presidente’s men, they’ll wonder what happened to their comrades and come checking on them," she said musingly. "And if it’s part of the rebel army…"
"You got it," he said grimly. "Shh. There they are. Pass it along that no one is to move a muscle."
The whispered command was passed from child to child as a Jeep chugged out of the jungle on the far side. Several others could be seen behind it.
"Rebels." Linc whispered a curse. He would have preferred the regular army since they had deserted a government truck.
Several guerrillas alighted, holding their automatic weapons at their hips ready to be fired. They approached the pickup cautiously, fearing that it might be booby-trapped. When they were satisfied that it wasn’t, they examined it thoroughly.
"Recognize any of them?"
"No." Kerry listened hard, trying to catch the gist of their conversation over the roar of the water. "They’re speculating on why the truck wasn’t just turned around when it came to the washed out bridge. They’re wondering if the soldiers crossed the river by holding onto the rope."
"Only a fool would try crossing that river on a rope," Linc muttered.
Kerry looked at him quickly. He glanced down at her from the corner of his eye. They exchanged a brief smile.
On the far bank, one of the guerrillas produced a pair of field glasses. "Lie still," Linc hissed. The soldier studied the river bank through the binoculars and said something.
"He saw our footprints in the mud," Kerry interrupted. "He’s telling the others that there are several of us. Around a dozen."
"Pretty damn smart."
"Now he’s saying – " She gasped sharply when more guerrillas moved into view.
"What is it?"
"The one on the far left – "
"Yeah, what about him?"
"That’s Juan. Our courier."
By now the rebel’s two sisters, Carmen and Cara, had spotted him. One gave a soft cry and made to rise. "Get down!" Linc’s order, for all its lack of volume, carried with it unarguable authority. The young girl froze. "Tell her to stay put. He might be her brother, but the others aren’t."
Kerry conveyed the message in whispers, but in a considerably softer tone than Linc’s. Carmen whispered something back, her face working with emotion.
"What did she say?"
"That her brother wouldn’t betray us," Kerry translated.
Linc wasn’t convinced. His eyes remained on the far river bank. The soldiers were conferring while they lounged and smoked and relieved themselves. Occasionally one would gesture across the river. One reeled in the rope and examined it. He gave it one swift tug between his hands. It snapped in two.
Kerry looked at Linc. He shrugged. "I told you only a fool would try it."
Some of the rebels offered opinions. Others seemed supremely unconcerned and dozed as they leaned against their Jeeps. The one identified as the courier who had made arrangements for the orphans’ escape kept glancing furtively toward where they lay hidden in the brush. After almost half an hour, the one obviously in charge ordered them all back into the Jeeps.
"What’s the consensus?" Linc asked Kerry.
"They’re going to try another road and cross the river farther downstream." She was leaving something out. Her guilty expression told him so. He took her jaw in his large hand and forced her head around. His eyes demanded the truth. "Then they’re going to come back this way and keep looking for us," she added reluctantly.
He swore. "That’s what I was afraid of. Okay, let’s start moving." He checked to make certain that all the Jeeps had turned around and disappeared into the jungle before he lined the children up safari-style. He would lead, Joe would take up the rear. Kerry was to keep to the middle to encourage laggers and make sure no one wandered off the path Linc would cut with the machete.
"Tell them we’ll be moving quickly. We’ll take breaks, but only when absolutely necessary. Tell them not to talk." He relaxed his stern demeanor when, at Kerry’s translation, the children looked up at him fearfully. "And tell them how proud I am of them for being such good soldiers."
Kerry turned warm beneath the heat of his eyes. She was included in his compliment. After she passed it along to the orphans, they smiled up at him.
They fell into line and struck out through the dense jungle, which would have been impenetrable were it not for the merciless hacking of Linc’s machete. Kerry kept her eyes trained on his back. Before wading into the river, he had tied the sleeves of his bush jacket around his waist and fashioned a sweat-band for his forehead out of a handkerchief. The muscles of his arms, back, and shoulders rippled with each upward swing and downward arc of the huge knife. Kerry let that supple rhythm entrance her. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have had the energy to place one foot in front of the other.
Her aching body cried out for rest, her dry mouth for water, her empty stomach for food. When she was certain that she would drop on the next step, Linc halted and called a rest. Bearing Lisa, who had fallen asleep in her arms, Kerry slumped to the ground. The children all did the same, dropping in their tracks.
"Joe, pass around that canteen, but be sure to ration the water." Silently the boy moved to obey Linc’s request. "How long have you been carrying Lisa?" he asked Kerry as he dropped to his knees beside her and offered her the canteen that had been hanging from his own belt. She in turn raised it to Lisa’s parched lips.
"I don’t know. For a while. She was too exhausted to take another step."
"I’ll carry her from now on."
"You can’t carry her and cut a path at the same time." She lifted her heavy hair off her neck, knowing that she would never take a hairbrush for granted again.
"And I can’t afford to have you collapse on me. You’re not having your period or anything like that, are you?"
She gazed back at him in speechless astonishment. She didn’t even realize that she let go of her hair and let it fall back to her shoulders. She ducked her head. "No."
"Well, that’s good. Now take a drink of water." After she had recapped the canteen and handed it to him, she said, "I’m sorry about your cameras."
"Yeah, so am I. We’d been through a lot together."
She could tell by his grin that he was teasing her. "I mean it. I’m sorry you had to destroy them."
"They can be replaced."
"What about your film?"
"I hope the containers are as watertight as they’re advertised to be. If they are, I’ll have a helluva story to sell when I get home." He stood up. "I’ll carry Lisa, and no more arguments about it. We can’t go much farther before dark."
He offered his hand to her. Kerry accepted it gratefully and relied on him to pull her to her feet. He swung Lisa onto his back, hoisted her into a comfortable position, and moved to the head of the line again.
Kerry felt dangerously close to tears.
She became immune to the buzzing insects, the slithering progress of jungle reptiles close to her feet, the sweltering, steamy afternoon heat, the raucous chatter of monkeys and the keening of birds. She concentrated solely on following Linc’s lead and staying on her feet even when her body threatened to fold in upon itself and never move again.
The sun had long since set and the shadows of the jungle were dark and threatening before Linc stopped. He had stumbled upon a shallow stream beneath a slender waterfall which trickled between two vine-shrouded boulders. He eased Lisa off his back and rolled his shoulders to work the knots out.
The orphans were too tired to complain. Some of them were already asleep as Kerry circulated among them carrying canteens of cool water fresh from the stream. There was no food to distribute, and even if there had been, they were too exhausted to eat it.
Kerry longed to take her boots off and put her feet in the water. Indulging in that luxury was out of the question, however. Her feet might swell so much that she couldn’t get her boots back on. Should they be attacked, she wouldn’t have time. And from the way Linc was circling the perimeters of their resting place, attack seemed a very real possibility.
He moved toward her and sat down. His deep frown prompted her to ask, "Did they follow us?"
"I don’t think they followed our trail, but they’re on our heels just the same. I can smell the smoke from their campfires. Apparently they don’t think we pose much of a threat." As he talked he was making a thick paste out of a handful of dirt and drops of water from the canteen. "Keep the children quiet. Take cover if anyone you can’t identify approaches."
Terror smote her chest. "Where are you going?"
"To their camp."
"Their camp! Are you crazy?"
"Undoubtedly. Or I wouldn’t be here in the first place." He gave her a wry grin. Kerry couldn’t have fashioned a smile if her life depended on it. Linc motioned Joe over to them. "Will you go with me?"
"Si," the boy said.
"Smear some of this mud on your face and arms." Linc extended his hand. Joe scooped a large dollop of the mud from Linc’s palm and began spreading it over his exposed skin as Linc was doing.
With apprehensive eyes, Kerry watched them methodically preparing to do battle. "Why are you going into their camp?"
"To steal weapons."
"Why? We’ve come this far without weapons."
She struggled to keep the tears out of her voice, but they were there. And even though it was too dark for Linc to see her stricken features, he could hear the stark fear in her voice.
"Kerry," he said gently, "do you really think that either side in this damn civil war is going to let an airplane from the United States land, then let us waltz on and fly off just like that?" He snapped his fingers.
It was a rhetorical question. He didn’t expect an answer and didn’t get one. He went on. "If the plane is there as you seem to believe it will be, and if we get on it at all, it will be amidst gunfire, probably from all directions. I can’t fight off two armies with one machete."
The thought of gunfire appalled her. But she realized that what Linc said was true. The fighters in this war weren’t likely to wave bye-bye from the ground as they took off in an airplane.
Why hadn’t she thought of the actual escape before? Reaching the rendezvous point had been her primary goal. Probably because of the tremendous odds against achieving that, she hadn’t thought beyond it. What would happen to them? The children? Joe? Linc? Her stubbornness had put them all in life-threatening danger. She mashed her fingers against her lips to stifle a sob. "What have I done?"
Linc took her in his arms and drew her close. "Don’t chicken out on me now." He hugged her tight. Placing his mouth directly over her ear, he whispered, "You’ve been terrific. And it just might turn out all right after all."
Kerry wanted him to hold her longer – forever – and was disappointed when he released her. He handed her the machete. It weighted her arm down like an anchor. "Use it if you have to. We’ll be back as soon as possible."
He moved away from her. She reached for him, but grasped at air. "Linc!"
His shadow solidified in front of her again. "What?"
She wanted to throw herself at him and beg him not to leave her alone. She wanted to cling to him and never let go. i She wanted to be embraced, sheltered, protected from the ‘ million and one dangers lurking in the jungle at night. She wanted him to kiss her one more time.
She willed her chin to stop trembling and said shakily. "Please be careful."
It was awfully dark. He was virtually invisible with the mud smeared over his features. She might not have even known he was there if it hadn’t been for his breath settling in warm gusts over her face. She sensed that he wanted to hold her as much as she wanted to be held. The tension in his body conveyed his reluctance to leave her.
But he didn’t touch her again. Instead he only said, "I’ll be careful."
Seconds ticked by before she realized that he and Joe had disappeared into the black shadows surrounding her. She and the eight children were alone.
The Devil's Own The Devil's Own - Sandra Brown The Devil