100 Hours
Page 28
“Genesis.”
I see him. I hear him. But I can’t answer. Maybe if I close my eyes, I won’t even be here anymore.
He takes my hands, then drops them and stares in horror at the blood on his palms. At the blood on mine. Then he looks past me. Into the kitchen.
“Genesis.” Indiana takes my hand, and I let him tug me into the shallow water. It’s easy to pretend I’m mired in shock, rather than in thought, and the more the kidnappers underestimate me, the better off I’ll be.
My father was right there. I wanted to tell him that I’m sorry for bringing us here. For lying to him. For putting us all in danger.
I mentally replay the phone call as I step out of the river onto the opposite bank, but it still makes no sense. My dad knew Silvana’s name. She didn’t bother to set a price because she thinks he already knows what she wants.
Understanding hits me like a knife to the gut. Whatever is happening here is the reason I’ve never been allowed in Colombia. It may even be the reason Uncle David was killed.
My kidnapping and his murder within a year in the same country can’t be a coincidence.
36.75 HOURS EARLIER
MADDIE
Moisés’s lips turn up in an ugly sneer, his brows bunched toward the middle of his forehead. “Get out of the hole.” “No.” I am covered in dirt from my brother’s grave, holding his still-warm body, yet suddenly a seething storm of anger churns deep in my belly.
“Salga del agujero unless you want me to bury you in it.”
Slowly, I lower my brother back onto the ground. My tears leave wet trails on his cheeks, as if he cried them himself. “You’re not going to shoot me,” I say as I run one hand through the hair at Ryan’s temple, arranging it the way he wore it. “You weren’t supposed to shoot my brother either.” My uncle may not be the man my father was, but he will pay to get me back.
He would have paid for Ryan too.
I stand slowly, wiping my palms on my shorts, but that does no good. I’m covered from head to toe in grime.
“Silvana needs me, doesn’t she?” I make myself look away from his trigger finger and meet his gaze.
“She thinks you’re dead. She’ll be happy to see you breathing, no matter how banged up you get on the way.”
I swipe one hand across my nose, smearing snot and tears through the dirt on my face, punctuating my determination not to cry anymore. “I’m diabetic, and I’m on the verge of an insulin reaction from too little food and too much exercise.” I show him my insulin pump. “If you make me hike, my body will shut down and I’ll die. How pissed will Silvana be if you lose her another hostage?” I can hardly believe my nerve. But he’s not going to kill me, and I have nothing left to lose.
“I’ll worry about Silvana.” Moisés shifts his rifle into a one-handed grip and pulls a length of nylon cord from his belt loop. I recognize the cord—he cut it from one of the tents on his way to the clearing. “You turn around and put your hands behind your back.”
I can’t outrun him. Not without rest, food, and insulin. But I can’t give in either.
Heart pounding, I take a step back and trip over a lump of dirt, then fall into my brother’s grave. The impact slams my teeth together. Blood pours into my mouth from my bitten cheek.
Moisés swings his rifle onto his back, then hauls me up by one arm. “You spoiled Americans are all the same.” He throws me to the ground. My hands and knees hit the dirt, and I grunt from the impact.
“You think the rules don’t apply to you. You think there’s nothing that can’t be bought, but you’re about to learn—”
Moisés’s rant ends in an oof of pain, and his hands fall away. He lands on the ground next to me, his eyes closed. A fist-sized rock lies a foot from his head.
I scramble back on my hands and knees, eyes wide.
Luke stands ten feet away with his right arm pulled back, staring at the unconscious gunman. Ready to throw another rock.
GENESIS
“¿Tenemos tiempo para descansar?” Julian asks as he and Óscar haul a fallen tree out of the path. “No!” Silvana shouts. “We keep moving!”
Domenica groans as she steps over a log. I shift my backpack from my left shoulder onto my right, and the relief is immediate. Being driven through the jungle at breakneck speed is more grueling than any workout I’ve ever had.
Despite her Olympic pedigree, even Pen looks wiped out.
At the front of our ragged procession, Sebastián and Silvana are arguing again. I move closer so I can hear.
“What are they saying?” Indiana asks as he falls into step with me, holding a packet of peanuts.
“Sebastián wants to know why she’s pushing us all so hard,” I whisper.
“Porque el envío se realizará en esta noche,” Silvana answers.
“Because the shipment will be in tonight,” I translate.
Indiana takes my hand and pours several nuts into my cupped palm. “What shipment?”
“I don’t know. They’re being very careful with the details, because they know some of us speak Spanish.” What Holden speaks is more the pig latin version. “Thanks,” I say, holding up the peanuts. Then I toss them into my mouth.
Sebastián breaks away from Silvana with a huff of disgust and takes up a position at the rear of the group.
This could be my chance. My friends are all here because of me, and when Silvana decides they’re too much trouble, she’ll kill them. Even if a couple of them are worth a fortune.
Unless I can convince Sebastián to let us go.
“I’ll be right back,” I whisper to Indiana. Then I drop back to walk next to Sebastián.
“What do you want?” His accent is thick, but his words are clear.
“I want an end to this before anyone else dies, but I’m not going to deal with Silvana.” I’ve seen my dad work people over in business a million times. Running an international shipping company is all about forming relationships. Part flattery, part truth, and all Valencia spine. “You, I’ll negotiate with.”
“Negotiate?” Sebastián rests his hands on his rifle as we walk, settling in for what he clearly thinks is a game. “What are you bringing to the table?”
I see him. I hear him. But I can’t answer. Maybe if I close my eyes, I won’t even be here anymore.
He takes my hands, then drops them and stares in horror at the blood on his palms. At the blood on mine. Then he looks past me. Into the kitchen.
“Genesis.” Indiana takes my hand, and I let him tug me into the shallow water. It’s easy to pretend I’m mired in shock, rather than in thought, and the more the kidnappers underestimate me, the better off I’ll be.
My father was right there. I wanted to tell him that I’m sorry for bringing us here. For lying to him. For putting us all in danger.
I mentally replay the phone call as I step out of the river onto the opposite bank, but it still makes no sense. My dad knew Silvana’s name. She didn’t bother to set a price because she thinks he already knows what she wants.
Understanding hits me like a knife to the gut. Whatever is happening here is the reason I’ve never been allowed in Colombia. It may even be the reason Uncle David was killed.
My kidnapping and his murder within a year in the same country can’t be a coincidence.
36.75 HOURS EARLIER
MADDIE
Moisés’s lips turn up in an ugly sneer, his brows bunched toward the middle of his forehead. “Get out of the hole.” “No.” I am covered in dirt from my brother’s grave, holding his still-warm body, yet suddenly a seething storm of anger churns deep in my belly.
“Salga del agujero unless you want me to bury you in it.”
Slowly, I lower my brother back onto the ground. My tears leave wet trails on his cheeks, as if he cried them himself. “You’re not going to shoot me,” I say as I run one hand through the hair at Ryan’s temple, arranging it the way he wore it. “You weren’t supposed to shoot my brother either.” My uncle may not be the man my father was, but he will pay to get me back.
He would have paid for Ryan too.
I stand slowly, wiping my palms on my shorts, but that does no good. I’m covered from head to toe in grime.
“Silvana needs me, doesn’t she?” I make myself look away from his trigger finger and meet his gaze.
“She thinks you’re dead. She’ll be happy to see you breathing, no matter how banged up you get on the way.”
I swipe one hand across my nose, smearing snot and tears through the dirt on my face, punctuating my determination not to cry anymore. “I’m diabetic, and I’m on the verge of an insulin reaction from too little food and too much exercise.” I show him my insulin pump. “If you make me hike, my body will shut down and I’ll die. How pissed will Silvana be if you lose her another hostage?” I can hardly believe my nerve. But he’s not going to kill me, and I have nothing left to lose.
“I’ll worry about Silvana.” Moisés shifts his rifle into a one-handed grip and pulls a length of nylon cord from his belt loop. I recognize the cord—he cut it from one of the tents on his way to the clearing. “You turn around and put your hands behind your back.”
I can’t outrun him. Not without rest, food, and insulin. But I can’t give in either.
Heart pounding, I take a step back and trip over a lump of dirt, then fall into my brother’s grave. The impact slams my teeth together. Blood pours into my mouth from my bitten cheek.
Moisés swings his rifle onto his back, then hauls me up by one arm. “You spoiled Americans are all the same.” He throws me to the ground. My hands and knees hit the dirt, and I grunt from the impact.
“You think the rules don’t apply to you. You think there’s nothing that can’t be bought, but you’re about to learn—”
Moisés’s rant ends in an oof of pain, and his hands fall away. He lands on the ground next to me, his eyes closed. A fist-sized rock lies a foot from his head.
I scramble back on my hands and knees, eyes wide.
Luke stands ten feet away with his right arm pulled back, staring at the unconscious gunman. Ready to throw another rock.
GENESIS
“¿Tenemos tiempo para descansar?” Julian asks as he and Óscar haul a fallen tree out of the path. “No!” Silvana shouts. “We keep moving!”
Domenica groans as she steps over a log. I shift my backpack from my left shoulder onto my right, and the relief is immediate. Being driven through the jungle at breakneck speed is more grueling than any workout I’ve ever had.
Despite her Olympic pedigree, even Pen looks wiped out.
At the front of our ragged procession, Sebastián and Silvana are arguing again. I move closer so I can hear.
“What are they saying?” Indiana asks as he falls into step with me, holding a packet of peanuts.
“Sebastián wants to know why she’s pushing us all so hard,” I whisper.
“Porque el envío se realizará en esta noche,” Silvana answers.
“Because the shipment will be in tonight,” I translate.
Indiana takes my hand and pours several nuts into my cupped palm. “What shipment?”
“I don’t know. They’re being very careful with the details, because they know some of us speak Spanish.” What Holden speaks is more the pig latin version. “Thanks,” I say, holding up the peanuts. Then I toss them into my mouth.
Sebastián breaks away from Silvana with a huff of disgust and takes up a position at the rear of the group.
This could be my chance. My friends are all here because of me, and when Silvana decides they’re too much trouble, she’ll kill them. Even if a couple of them are worth a fortune.
Unless I can convince Sebastián to let us go.
“I’ll be right back,” I whisper to Indiana. Then I drop back to walk next to Sebastián.
“What do you want?” His accent is thick, but his words are clear.
“I want an end to this before anyone else dies, but I’m not going to deal with Silvana.” I’ve seen my dad work people over in business a million times. Running an international shipping company is all about forming relationships. Part flattery, part truth, and all Valencia spine. “You, I’ll negotiate with.”
“Negotiate?” Sebastián rests his hands on his rifle as we walk, settling in for what he clearly thinks is a game. “What are you bringing to the table?”
