man with the AK-47 turned and almost walked over them on his way back to camp. Thankfully, he must have been too blinded by the lights to see what was right next to him.
Once the rebel fighter was out of hearing range, the man beside Reese spoke softly. “Looks like they’re getting into their boat.”
Reese peered through the darkness. All she could see were flashlights heading away from her and the occasional man caught in the beam. The camp was emptying out, heading for the river.
“They’re heading south,” the man said softly. “Your direction. Don’t wait on me. Get Klein out of here, now. I have Brantley. We’ll find our own way back. I’ll contact you when we’re out of danger. Don’t argue. Just go.”
Reese was only half-listening to her rescuer’s side of a conversation. Some of the men appeared to be climbing aboard a boat. The others turned around, shining lights toward the jungle. She tugged on the sleeve of the man beside her. “We’ve got a problem.” She rose onto her haunches. “Some of them are coming this way with flashlights.”
* * *
BRANTLEY WAS RIGHT. Diesel glanced around. The men were coming toward them and spreading out, heading south along the river. A shout went up when they found their sentry.
“Follow me. And for the love of God, stay low,” he commanded. He led the way deeper into the jungle and turned north, praying he didn’t get them lost. He figured, as long as he had a GPS device on his wrist, he’d be all right. If they had to, they’d travel all the way to Kinshasa, the capital of the Democratic Republic of the Congo, and show up on the doorstep of the US Embassy, claiming some lame excuse of being tourists who’d fallen off a riverboat cruise.
In the meantime, they had to get away from the gun-toting rebels who’d just as soon shoot first and ask questions of a corpse later. Especially since they’d found one of their own dead.
A shout sounded behind him. He glanced back at Brantley. Lights flashed toward them. “Run,” he urged.
They gave up all attempt at quiet and charged through the jungle. The head start they had on the rebels would help, but they couldn’t keep running forever. They needed to find a place to hide.
His lungs already burning, the heat dragging him down, Diesel could imagine the woman behind him had to be dying by now. He reached back, captured Brantley’s hand and pulled her along with him. When they arrived at a stand of huge trees with low-hanging limbs, Diesel aimed for them, slowing as he neared.
“Why are we slowing down? They’ll catch up to us,” Brantley said between ragged breaths.
Diesel cupped his hands. “Climb.”
“No. Wait.” The woman ripped her shirt and ran away from him.
“Where the hell are you going?” he called out to her in a whisper he hoped couldn’t be heard by their pursuers.
In the pale glow from what little starlight penetrated the canopy, Brantley raced to the far edge of the clearing that surrounded the base of the tree and hung the piece of fabric on a bush. As quickly as she’d left, she returned to where Diesel again bent and held out his cupped hands. If they didn’t hurry, that little bit of fabric hanging on a bush wouldn’t make a difference.
“Go!” he urged.
Still, she hesitated. “I don’t know.”
“Don’t think. Just climb.”
Shouts in the jungle behind them had her stepping into the palms of his hands. He boosted her up to the first limb. When she had her balance, he handed her his rifle, and then pulled himself up beside her.
Without waiting for him to instruct her, Brantley climbed from limb to limb, rising high up the trunk to the vegetation that would provide sufficient concealment from the men wielding flashlights and weapons below.
As the men neared the tree, Brantley came to a stop. Diesel followed suit. For the next fifteen minutes, they sat silent in the tree.
Diesel breathed, held his breath and listened.
The sound of footsteps below indicated the men had reached the base of the tree. A light shined up into the branches.
Diesel glanced up.
Brantley hugged the trunk, pressing her body against the hard wood, making herself appear to be as much a part of the tree as its bark.
Diesel had laid his rifle along a thick horizontal branch, and then he laid himself across the branch, as well, bringing his feet up behind him to keep them from dangling over the sides. If he slipped an inch to the left or the right, he might fall off the branch and all the way to the ground. He didn’t think about falling. Instead, he focused on his balance and maintaining his silence.
A man below yelled. The flashlights were turned away from the branches of the tree and shined toward the far side of the clearing. Footsteps pounded through the brush, toward the jungle and way from the two people up in the tree.
Soon, the sound of humans faded away, and the creatures of the night sent up their own song.
“They’re gone,” Reese said. “Should we get down?”
Diesel sat up, his legs straddling the big branch. When he scooted back into the trunk, he found that there was enough room for two people to sit comfortably without falling out of the tree. “We’re staying the night here.”
“You’ve got to be kidding,” she said.
“I’m not sure which direction the rebels went. If we get down and follow them, they might decide to turn around and head back to camp. If we turn back the way we came, we might run into whoever they left behind.”
“Yeah, yeah. I get it. If we go deeper into the jungle, we might be lost for good, and the river is full of its own dangers.” She sighed. “I guess being up a tree for the night beats getting shot at or eaten by crocodiles...” Her words trailed off.
Diesel chuckled. “You don’t sound very enthusiastic.”
“I might be if I wasn’t just a little petrified of heights.” Her voice shook, and her teeth chattered.
“You’re kidding, right?” Diesel shined his flashlight with the red filtered lens up at her.
She remained glued to the tree above him, even though the enemy threat had moved on. As the light touched her face, she opened her eyes and looked down. “Oh, hell.” She squeezed them shut. “Shouldn’t have done that. No, no, no. Shouldn’t have done that.”
“What? Shined the light up at you?”
“No,” she said, her teeth clattering together so hard that Diesel was afraid she’d chip one.
“No. I shouldn’t have looked down.” Brantley’s arms tightened around the tree. “Now that I’m up here, I might as well stay awhile. I certainly won’t be getting down anytime soon.”
Good grief, the woman was beyond terrified. “Don’t move,” Diesel said. “I’m coming up.”
“Don’t move, he
