100 Hours
Page 14
The rocks are actually a series of small boulders sticking up from the water, forming a crooked, perilous path to dry—er, muddy—land on the other side.
“You have to be kidding,” Neda groans.
“Come on, Neda, this is an adventure!” My brother slides his arm around her and winks at me over her head.
Nico re-centers his pack on his shoulders and ventures onto the first rock. He makes it across with a series of nimble steps.
“Come on!” Penelope shows him up with the skill of a retired Olympic gymnast, and once Rog and the bros have crossed, I suck in a deep breath and go for it.
Water splatters my calves as I step carefully from rock to rock, resisting the urge to slap at mosquitoes and upset my balance. My foot slides a little on the third boulder, but two steps later I’m across, grinning like an idiot from the adrenaline rush.
Neda and Ryan are the last ones left on the other side. “You got this,” my brother says as Neda steps onto the first rock.
She takes the first four boulders slowly, listening as Genesis and Pen encourage her. Basking in the attention. When she’s down to the last step, arrogance shines in her eyes. Indiana reaches out to steady her, and she clings to him as she makes a bold hop from the last boulder into the mud.
Her couture sandal slides out from under her. Her foot folds at an awkward angle.
Neda’s shrill scream sends birds fleeing from a treetop to our west.
I roll my eyes, sure she’s exaggerating for attention. But before Ryan can make it across the stream, her ankle has swollen so badly that she’s openly lamenting the tragic and premature end of her (nonexistent) career on the runway.
“I need ice!” she cries, while Nico kneels to palpate her injury.
“Lucky for us, this jungle is famously situated over the very last of the Caribbean glaciers,” I tell her.
Indiana and Luke laugh, but Neda only moans louder.
Ryan kneels next to Nico and gently lifts her mud-coated foot. “I’m sure it’s just a sprain, but we’ll wrap it. I have an Ace bandage in my pack.”
She looks at him with actual tears shining in her eyes as he wraps her muddy ankle. “I need to call my orthopedist.”
“Neda,” I snap. “We don’t have ice or cell service. Those are the hallmark traits of ‘off the grid.’”
“Come on, beautiful.” Ryan winks at Domenica as he reaches down to pull Neda up. She flinches when her foot touches the ground. “I’ll give you a ride, and when we make camp, you can put your foot up.” He hands his bag to me. Then my brother actually kneels in the mud so the spoiled heiress can climb onto his back as if he were a beast of burden!
“Who are you trying to be?” I mumble as I trudge past him. “Prince Charming, or Cinderella’s horse and carriage?”
61 HOURS EARLIER
GENESIS
The first real tears come during Holden’s piggyback shift. “I can feel my ankle expanding by the second,” Neda moans, practically choking him with her arms wrapped around his neck. “What if that’s permanent? They won’t let a girl with jiggly ankles anywhere near a runway.” “The swelling will go down,” I assure her, before Holden can tell her that it won’t be her ankle keeping her off the runway.
“Are you sure? How far is it to these ruins?” She clutches Holden tighter as he veers around a big rock, and a branch snags in her hair. “I can’t take any more of this jostling. Did anyone pick up my sandal?”
“We have to get rid of her,” I whisper to Nico, while I ignore Penelope’s millionth attempt to catch my gaze. “Or at least shut her up.” I would gag Neda with the strap from her Tom Ford calf-hair clutch, if that wouldn’t be a waste of a damn fine bag.
“We should be about an hour from a bunkhouse used as a campsite by various tour groups,” Nico tells me as we round a sharp bend in the trail. “They get supply shipments by helicopter every other day for the soldiers who patrol the parque and the popular ruins. I can probably get the pilot to airlift Neda back to Cartagena.”
“If we camp there, we won’t get to see the ruins today.”
“We wouldn’t anyway.” Nico gives the sinking sun a pointed glance. “Your friends move too slow.”
“Okay. The car’s coming for us at Cañaveral tomorrow night. If we get a decent start in the morning, can we see the ruins and make it back to the park entrance by nightfall?”
He nods. “If you can light a fire under your friends’ feet.”
“Done.” I turn around to address the entire group as I walk backward. “We’re camping at an army bunkhouse tonight.” I let my gaze linger on Holden, driving home my threat to have him searched. “Let’s go.”
The bunkhouse turns out to be a short, squat building made of rough wood planks, in the middle of a large clearing. A patch of bare dirt to the west of the building has been designated for helicopter landings, and a dozen other tourists have pitched tents on the opposite side of the bunkhouse.
“How long am I going to be stuck here?” Neda demands as Ryan, Domenica, and Maddie start unpacking their gear. Holden, Rog, and the bros drop their packs and head straight for a large campfire, where people are already grilling hot dogs and passing around bottles of beer.
Penelope hangs back, glancing first at Holden, then at me, as if she needs my permission to get within ten feet of him.
She does.
I leave her standing there while I help Neda hop toward the bunkhouse, where Nico is making arrangements to have her removed from our company. I totally owe him a beer.
We can already hear her ride coming, but in the end, I have to part with a fifty-dollar bill—US currency—to buy Neda a one-way ticket out of the jungle.
It’s money well spent.
“You should still try to have fun without me,” Neda shouts as the helicopter descends into the clearing, blowing back our hair and our words. “I totally don’t blame you for dragging me into the jungle without telling me I’d need boots. So don’t let that ruin your hike, okay?”
I laugh as I return her hug and shout into her ear, “I promise I won’t let your lack of coordination and common sense plague my vacation.” Now that she’s leaving, I’m sure I’m going to miss her, for the entertainment factor alone.
“You have to be kidding,” Neda groans.
“Come on, Neda, this is an adventure!” My brother slides his arm around her and winks at me over her head.
Nico re-centers his pack on his shoulders and ventures onto the first rock. He makes it across with a series of nimble steps.
“Come on!” Penelope shows him up with the skill of a retired Olympic gymnast, and once Rog and the bros have crossed, I suck in a deep breath and go for it.
Water splatters my calves as I step carefully from rock to rock, resisting the urge to slap at mosquitoes and upset my balance. My foot slides a little on the third boulder, but two steps later I’m across, grinning like an idiot from the adrenaline rush.
Neda and Ryan are the last ones left on the other side. “You got this,” my brother says as Neda steps onto the first rock.
She takes the first four boulders slowly, listening as Genesis and Pen encourage her. Basking in the attention. When she’s down to the last step, arrogance shines in her eyes. Indiana reaches out to steady her, and she clings to him as she makes a bold hop from the last boulder into the mud.
Her couture sandal slides out from under her. Her foot folds at an awkward angle.
Neda’s shrill scream sends birds fleeing from a treetop to our west.
I roll my eyes, sure she’s exaggerating for attention. But before Ryan can make it across the stream, her ankle has swollen so badly that she’s openly lamenting the tragic and premature end of her (nonexistent) career on the runway.
“I need ice!” she cries, while Nico kneels to palpate her injury.
“Lucky for us, this jungle is famously situated over the very last of the Caribbean glaciers,” I tell her.
Indiana and Luke laugh, but Neda only moans louder.
Ryan kneels next to Nico and gently lifts her mud-coated foot. “I’m sure it’s just a sprain, but we’ll wrap it. I have an Ace bandage in my pack.”
She looks at him with actual tears shining in her eyes as he wraps her muddy ankle. “I need to call my orthopedist.”
“Neda,” I snap. “We don’t have ice or cell service. Those are the hallmark traits of ‘off the grid.’”
“Come on, beautiful.” Ryan winks at Domenica as he reaches down to pull Neda up. She flinches when her foot touches the ground. “I’ll give you a ride, and when we make camp, you can put your foot up.” He hands his bag to me. Then my brother actually kneels in the mud so the spoiled heiress can climb onto his back as if he were a beast of burden!
“Who are you trying to be?” I mumble as I trudge past him. “Prince Charming, or Cinderella’s horse and carriage?”
61 HOURS EARLIER
GENESIS
The first real tears come during Holden’s piggyback shift. “I can feel my ankle expanding by the second,” Neda moans, practically choking him with her arms wrapped around his neck. “What if that’s permanent? They won’t let a girl with jiggly ankles anywhere near a runway.” “The swelling will go down,” I assure her, before Holden can tell her that it won’t be her ankle keeping her off the runway.
“Are you sure? How far is it to these ruins?” She clutches Holden tighter as he veers around a big rock, and a branch snags in her hair. “I can’t take any more of this jostling. Did anyone pick up my sandal?”
“We have to get rid of her,” I whisper to Nico, while I ignore Penelope’s millionth attempt to catch my gaze. “Or at least shut her up.” I would gag Neda with the strap from her Tom Ford calf-hair clutch, if that wouldn’t be a waste of a damn fine bag.
“We should be about an hour from a bunkhouse used as a campsite by various tour groups,” Nico tells me as we round a sharp bend in the trail. “They get supply shipments by helicopter every other day for the soldiers who patrol the parque and the popular ruins. I can probably get the pilot to airlift Neda back to Cartagena.”
“If we camp there, we won’t get to see the ruins today.”
“We wouldn’t anyway.” Nico gives the sinking sun a pointed glance. “Your friends move too slow.”
“Okay. The car’s coming for us at Cañaveral tomorrow night. If we get a decent start in the morning, can we see the ruins and make it back to the park entrance by nightfall?”
He nods. “If you can light a fire under your friends’ feet.”
“Done.” I turn around to address the entire group as I walk backward. “We’re camping at an army bunkhouse tonight.” I let my gaze linger on Holden, driving home my threat to have him searched. “Let’s go.”
The bunkhouse turns out to be a short, squat building made of rough wood planks, in the middle of a large clearing. A patch of bare dirt to the west of the building has been designated for helicopter landings, and a dozen other tourists have pitched tents on the opposite side of the bunkhouse.
“How long am I going to be stuck here?” Neda demands as Ryan, Domenica, and Maddie start unpacking their gear. Holden, Rog, and the bros drop their packs and head straight for a large campfire, where people are already grilling hot dogs and passing around bottles of beer.
Penelope hangs back, glancing first at Holden, then at me, as if she needs my permission to get within ten feet of him.
She does.
I leave her standing there while I help Neda hop toward the bunkhouse, where Nico is making arrangements to have her removed from our company. I totally owe him a beer.
We can already hear her ride coming, but in the end, I have to part with a fifty-dollar bill—US currency—to buy Neda a one-way ticket out of the jungle.
It’s money well spent.
“You should still try to have fun without me,” Neda shouts as the helicopter descends into the clearing, blowing back our hair and our words. “I totally don’t blame you for dragging me into the jungle without telling me I’d need boots. So don’t let that ruin your hike, okay?”
I laugh as I return her hug and shout into her ear, “I promise I won’t let your lack of coordination and common sense plague my vacation.” Now that she’s leaving, I’m sure I’m going to miss her, for the entertainment factor alone.
