100 Hours
Page 24
While Moisés stands, I glance over my shoulder just as something bobs to the surface of the river.
Maddie’s backpack.
Moisés grabs me again, fury burning in his gaze, and I jerk my arm from his grip.
“If you ever touch me again, you’ll pee sitting down for the rest of your life.”
Silvana aims her pistol at my rib cage. Her gaze is cold. “On your knees, princesa.” She points to the cliff. “There.”
“Do what you’ve got to do,” I say, counting on the fact that she can’t kill me. They took me hostage for a reason. “I’m not going to kneel.”
Silvana’s eyes narrow. She swings the pistol in Penelope’s direction. “Kneel, or I put a bullet in your friend’s head.”
Pen gasps. Tears fill her eyes. She stares at me as if I might actually let her die because she slept with my boyfriend.
She will pay. But not like this.
I walk backward toward the cliff, so I don’t have to turn my back on Silvana. Fear fuels my rapid heartbeat, but I clench my jaw and steady my steps. I glance over my shoulder again and again as the edge draws closer.
Pen and Domenica are pale with terror. Holden and Indiana both look torn, as if they can’t decide whether an intervention would make things better or worse for me.
“Kneel,” Silvana orders.
Less than a foot from the edge, I drop carefully onto my knees; then sit on my heels. My certainty that she won’t shoot me wavers as I stare at the barrel of her pistol.
“You!” Silvana shouts at Penelope. Then she turns to the rest of the group. “All of you. Join her.” When no one moves, she flips her pistol around and aims the butt at my face.
I flinch and close my eyes, bracing for the blow.
“Wait!” Indiana calls, and I look up to see him heading toward me. Rog escorts Penelope with one arm around her shoulders and Domenica follows right behind them, clutching the straps of her backpack so tightly that her fingers are white. Her expression is grim.
Holden comes last.
In spite of his bravado about taking action, he doesn’t know what to do when there’s a gun aimed at my head. When there’s a problem that neither his money nor his name can solve.
We’re lined up, kneeling on the brink of the cliff, execution style. Silvana waves her men forward, and they aim rifles at our heads.
I fight to steady my breathing. On the edge of my vision, Penelope’s chest hitches with panicked hiccuping and a high-pitched, terrified whine I don’t think she even knows she’s making.
We are going to die here, on our knees. Humiliated and defeated.
And I am the one who brought us all here.
Silvana holds up one hand, fingers spread. My heart slams against my chest as her fingers fold one at a time, counting down the seconds until my death. “Five. Four.”
One of the gunmen smiles. Natalia shifts uncomfortably, and I notice that she’s not looking at any of us.
Not all of Silvana’s people are happy with this demonstration.
“Three.”
Behind the line of executioners, Sebastián and Óscar stand with their rifles aimed at the ground. Sebastián’s jaw is tight. Óscar stares at his feet.
“Two.” Silvana has only her pinkie finger left.
Penelope sobs.
“I’m so sorry for getting us into this,” I whisper to her. My rebellion has made it easier for our captors to kill us than to put up with us long enough to claim a ransom.
Silvana drops her hand without saying the last number. “That’s how long it will take to kill you if you try to escape.”
Penelope trembles so hard on my left that I’m afraid she’s having a seizure. I let my head fall forward, waiting for my pulse to slow.
“Álvaro.” Silvana nods to the soldier in front of me. I look up as he unsnaps a machete from a loop on his belt. He brings the blade to my throat.
I gasp, then freeze. The warm metal presses into my flesh. If I take too deep a breath, I’ll spill my own blood.
“And this is what will happen if anyone tries to rescue you,” Silvana says. “Are we clear?” My fellow hostages nod on the edge of my vision, but I’m too scared to move.
Silvana makes another gesture, and the gunmen lower their weapons.
The man with the machete at my throat winks at me, and chills slide down my spine. When he finally steps back, I fall forward, bent over my knees, wiping tears from my face as fast as they form.
I am not dead.
As I pick up my backpack and fall into line again, I pass Silvana and Moisés. “Busca el cuerpo,” she whispers to him.
My jaw clenches until my teeth creak. She just told him to find Maddie’s body.
40.75 HOURS EARLIER
MADDIE
I scream as I plunge into the river. Water fills my mouth. The river slings me downstream, and I flail against the current. My elbow smashes into a rock. My lungs burn.
I fight toward the surface and suck in as much water as air. The current is too strong. My backpack is too bulky. The river rips it from me as I ricochet off rocks and floating branches.
I’m flying down the river.
Totally out of control.
GENESIS
Rain begins to fall mid-morning—just enough moisture to keep us damp and irritable. No one talks. We are each stuck in our own heads, islands of fear and exhaustion isolated by the sound of the rain and the difficulty of the hike. As I lower myself down muddy hills with handfuls of bamboo and dangling vines, skinning my palms and bruising my knees, I think about Maddie and Ryan.
My cousins. Gone. Just like my mother.
Every breath is hard to take. Each step requires staggering effort.
Could I be wrong? Are they still alive? Can they be for much longer?
The only thing I’m sure of is that this is all my fault.
40.5 HOURS EARLIER
MADDIE
I slam into something jutting out from the bank. A thick root. Water rushes around me. Pulling at me. Roaring in my ears. But I hang on. I take a deep breath.
Then I pull myself hand over hand toward the bank.
39 HOURS EARLIER
GENESIS
“Fifteen minutes for lunch!” Silvana shouts. I’m no stranger to exercise, yet I ache all over from the grueling pace of the hike. My clothes are wet from the intermittent rain, and my boots are caked in mud.
Maddie’s backpack.
Moisés grabs me again, fury burning in his gaze, and I jerk my arm from his grip.
“If you ever touch me again, you’ll pee sitting down for the rest of your life.”
Silvana aims her pistol at my rib cage. Her gaze is cold. “On your knees, princesa.” She points to the cliff. “There.”
“Do what you’ve got to do,” I say, counting on the fact that she can’t kill me. They took me hostage for a reason. “I’m not going to kneel.”
Silvana’s eyes narrow. She swings the pistol in Penelope’s direction. “Kneel, or I put a bullet in your friend’s head.”
Pen gasps. Tears fill her eyes. She stares at me as if I might actually let her die because she slept with my boyfriend.
She will pay. But not like this.
I walk backward toward the cliff, so I don’t have to turn my back on Silvana. Fear fuels my rapid heartbeat, but I clench my jaw and steady my steps. I glance over my shoulder again and again as the edge draws closer.
Pen and Domenica are pale with terror. Holden and Indiana both look torn, as if they can’t decide whether an intervention would make things better or worse for me.
“Kneel,” Silvana orders.
Less than a foot from the edge, I drop carefully onto my knees; then sit on my heels. My certainty that she won’t shoot me wavers as I stare at the barrel of her pistol.
“You!” Silvana shouts at Penelope. Then she turns to the rest of the group. “All of you. Join her.” When no one moves, she flips her pistol around and aims the butt at my face.
I flinch and close my eyes, bracing for the blow.
“Wait!” Indiana calls, and I look up to see him heading toward me. Rog escorts Penelope with one arm around her shoulders and Domenica follows right behind them, clutching the straps of her backpack so tightly that her fingers are white. Her expression is grim.
Holden comes last.
In spite of his bravado about taking action, he doesn’t know what to do when there’s a gun aimed at my head. When there’s a problem that neither his money nor his name can solve.
We’re lined up, kneeling on the brink of the cliff, execution style. Silvana waves her men forward, and they aim rifles at our heads.
I fight to steady my breathing. On the edge of my vision, Penelope’s chest hitches with panicked hiccuping and a high-pitched, terrified whine I don’t think she even knows she’s making.
We are going to die here, on our knees. Humiliated and defeated.
And I am the one who brought us all here.
Silvana holds up one hand, fingers spread. My heart slams against my chest as her fingers fold one at a time, counting down the seconds until my death. “Five. Four.”
One of the gunmen smiles. Natalia shifts uncomfortably, and I notice that she’s not looking at any of us.
Not all of Silvana’s people are happy with this demonstration.
“Three.”
Behind the line of executioners, Sebastián and Óscar stand with their rifles aimed at the ground. Sebastián’s jaw is tight. Óscar stares at his feet.
“Two.” Silvana has only her pinkie finger left.
Penelope sobs.
“I’m so sorry for getting us into this,” I whisper to her. My rebellion has made it easier for our captors to kill us than to put up with us long enough to claim a ransom.
Silvana drops her hand without saying the last number. “That’s how long it will take to kill you if you try to escape.”
Penelope trembles so hard on my left that I’m afraid she’s having a seizure. I let my head fall forward, waiting for my pulse to slow.
“Álvaro.” Silvana nods to the soldier in front of me. I look up as he unsnaps a machete from a loop on his belt. He brings the blade to my throat.
I gasp, then freeze. The warm metal presses into my flesh. If I take too deep a breath, I’ll spill my own blood.
“And this is what will happen if anyone tries to rescue you,” Silvana says. “Are we clear?” My fellow hostages nod on the edge of my vision, but I’m too scared to move.
Silvana makes another gesture, and the gunmen lower their weapons.
The man with the machete at my throat winks at me, and chills slide down my spine. When he finally steps back, I fall forward, bent over my knees, wiping tears from my face as fast as they form.
I am not dead.
As I pick up my backpack and fall into line again, I pass Silvana and Moisés. “Busca el cuerpo,” she whispers to him.
My jaw clenches until my teeth creak. She just told him to find Maddie’s body.
40.75 HOURS EARLIER
MADDIE
I scream as I plunge into the river. Water fills my mouth. The river slings me downstream, and I flail against the current. My elbow smashes into a rock. My lungs burn.
I fight toward the surface and suck in as much water as air. The current is too strong. My backpack is too bulky. The river rips it from me as I ricochet off rocks and floating branches.
I’m flying down the river.
Totally out of control.
GENESIS
Rain begins to fall mid-morning—just enough moisture to keep us damp and irritable. No one talks. We are each stuck in our own heads, islands of fear and exhaustion isolated by the sound of the rain and the difficulty of the hike. As I lower myself down muddy hills with handfuls of bamboo and dangling vines, skinning my palms and bruising my knees, I think about Maddie and Ryan.
My cousins. Gone. Just like my mother.
Every breath is hard to take. Each step requires staggering effort.
Could I be wrong? Are they still alive? Can they be for much longer?
The only thing I’m sure of is that this is all my fault.
40.5 HOURS EARLIER
MADDIE
I slam into something jutting out from the bank. A thick root. Water rushes around me. Pulling at me. Roaring in my ears. But I hang on. I take a deep breath.
Then I pull myself hand over hand toward the bank.
39 HOURS EARLIER
GENESIS
“Fifteen minutes for lunch!” Silvana shouts. I’m no stranger to exercise, yet I ache all over from the grueling pace of the hike. My clothes are wet from the intermittent rain, and my boots are caked in mud.
