realization hit and Viva turned sharply. “They’ll be looking for me.”
“I would.”
Alone she’d be dead. “I accept the offer.” She saw the wisdom in traveling with armed men, as much as her practical side was telling her to run like hell. These guys could be gun dealers, thieves, or worse, the enemy of that bandit leader. Which meant they’d hunt her just for being with them. Circumstances were crummy, but she didn’t have any choice.
Sam took a few steps away, then said, “This time, stay put.”
“Yes, certainly. Go visit the body.” She waved him off, watching him move back to the corpse and with Max, cover it with dead leaves and logs. Don’t anger this one, she thought, forcing a pleasant smile when he glanced her way. His hands soaked up the blood as he repositioned the body, and he looked more dangerous than the bandits. Dark hair poked out from beneath an old brown cowboy hat, the five-finger pinch molded with sweat and dirt. It’s a favorite, she decided, and let her gaze slide over him. His jeans were a worn light blue, molded to his long legs, a pistol riding his hip like a gunslinger, low and loose. She almost expected it to be tied down. The man had style, she thought, his sweat-soaked T-shirt sculpting ropey muscles. Nice shoulders.
She cocked her head, watching, then, as if he could feel it, he looked up. His gaze slammed into hers, and Viva was struck again by his dark eyes and that he exposed nothing in his expression. He didn’t say much either. That was never a problem for her.
He stood, spoke to Max, and came to her.
“Why didn’t you bury him?”
“No point, it’s fresh meat, fresh blood. The animals will smell it and dig till they find it.”
Viva’s stomach rolled at the image. “Sorry I asked.”
He drew the slung rifle over his shoulder, loaded it again, and she realized it wasn’t a normal shotgun as she’d first thought. Though shaped like one, it had a high-tech look about it. And a double trigger. “I’ve never seen a gun like that.”
“Seen many, have you?”
“Today’s been a veritable festival of weaponry.”
He gave the rifle a hard shake, once, then slid it to his back, barrel down.
Sam felt something fly by his cheek and his gaze zeroed in over her head. He yanked her to the ground, shielding her. “Max, down, down!”
Max dropped without hesitation, drawing his gun. Then Viva heard the soft swish, like a soda can opening, only shorter. And rapid, one after another. Over her head in the trees were teeny spikes and it took her a second to realize they were darts.
Sam dragged his hat off and aimed. “Crap, they’re back.”
“Party crashers are so rude.”
The crack of his rifle made her flinch, the smell of it hanging in the air. Birds squawked and rose into the treetops. She peered around him and where he’d aimed, a thin tree keeled over. Whoa. Max held down the trigger, cutting the trees in rapid succession with his automatic weapon. “Show off.”
Sam went low, signaled to Max, slipped something into his ear, then drew a small, thin, bendable rod near his mouth. Max did the same.
They’re in contact now, she thought. Radios? Cool. This was all suddenly exciting.
“Cover me, buddy,” Sam said, then eased back, pushed her beyond the trees, his attention never leaving the terrain surrounding them. Max offered cover fire in spurts, Sam and Viva quickly shifting backwards.
“We can’t leave him.”
“Not happening, and be quiet.”
Sam came to his knees, his weapon sweeping to his left. He unloaded and she heard something hit the ground hard. Someone’s dead out there.
“Want to smoke them out?”
Max shook his head. “There are at least six, I think. Maybe more.”
Outgunned, and he didn’t have any explosives to make it simple. Where was Sebastian when you really needed him.
Viva heard movement over the wild beat of her heart in her ears, and tapped Sam, pointed. He swung and fired. The glow of return muzzle flash marked positions and Max opened up on the location as Sam moved, pushing her ahead. Bullets hit the trees, the ground.
Viva smothered a yelp.
Sam fell on her, flattened her to the ground. “We have to make a run for it.”
“They’ll follow.”
He rolled off her, his body nearly sandwiched to hers. “We just have to be faster.”
“And me without my Keds.”
Sam’s lips quirked. At least she wasn’t crying. “Don’t stand, crawl.” He urged her. “Go now.”
Viva obeyed, moving on her sore knees. Her palms slipped on mossy rocks and she fell, pushed up, and crawled.
Sam put a hand on her butt and pushed it down. “Drag yourself.”
Max fired, ripping up the jungle, and crouched low, he backed up. “Meet you at the stream,” he said.
“Roger that.” Sam rose slightly, and took off. “Come on, woman, put a fire under it.”
“Tyranny is so unattractive, Sam.” She ran, clawing through the forest, barely flinching as the jungle shredded her exposed skin. The ground grew soft under her feet, slowing her, and when she stumbled, Sam caught her, practically carrying her toward the water.
He jerked her back before she went into the stream, and forced her to the ground. He aimed from behind a cluster of trees, sliding the rifle barrel between the foliage.
“Drac, we’re at the rendezvous, where the hell are you?”
Viva tucked behind him, still as glass. Sam didn’t have to look; he could feel her warmth on his spine.
Max burst from the forest. “We have company!” he shouted, hurdling. “Move! Move!”
Sam took off, pushing her ahead to the river, and she shifted to the left, darting over rocks instead of through the black water, Max coming alongside. The bandits weren’t far behind, the ground squishing with wet footsteps.
Christ, at this rate, he’d get her killed.
“We need to slow them down.” Sam glanced at Max running a few yards to his left.
“I’ve got two clips,” Max said into the mike, checking his pockets.
Sam slowed. Viva noticed. “Why are you stopping?” Oddly, she suddenly recognized the look; pure macho determination. “Don’t do this!”
“This is risky, pal.”
“Is there any other way? On my mark.” Sam stopped, and in one motion with
