echoed around them, a bird called out, all of these sounds competing with the incessant drone of insects. There was still no sign of the men who’d been after them, but he wasn’t ready to believe they’d actually lost them.
They continued moving at a steady pace, and Ryan was hyperaware of his surroundings. When he was a boy, he used to watch National Geographic specials with his grandfather and dreamed of exploring Africa’s vast terrain. Instead, he’d ended up exploring the oceans. Today, he wished he had a machete, or something enabling him to hack away the thick brush. But he knew survival was never only physical. Being pushed to the limit mentally was where many people lost touch with reality.
“We’ve gone from racing across Rio on a motorcycle on our tail to this?” she said. “Any ideas on how to find our way out of here?”
“When we’re lost underwater, we follow air bubbles to get to the surface. My best guess in this situation is that heading downhill should lead to water.”
“And where there’s water, there will be people.” She glanced at him. “Anything would be better than staying in this jungle, though I guess you’re not claustrophobic.”
He could hear her labored breathing and the panic lacing her voice as they walked at a fast pace. “Can’t be when you live up to twenty-eight days in a chamber under pressure doing back-to-back workdays of eight hours at a time. You finish work, shower and eat, then sleep because you’re so exhausted.”
“What’s it like, working in an environment like that?”
“There are places with near zero visibility, where it feels as though you’re surrounded by a heavy fog. But there are also locations that are clear all the way to the bottom.” They skirted around a pile of vines. He was thankful for the diversion and had a feeling she was as well. “And while there’s not a lot of time for sightseeing while on the job, there’s the occasional peek at black coral, lionfish and other sea creatures.”
Another ten minutes later they stumbled upon a wide stretch of river. Ryan stopped at the shoreline. A long canoe rested on the edge of the brown water, but beside that the forest simply stretched out around them. Acres and acres of trees, vines and water. Without a motor, if they attempted to go out in the boat, they’d be sitting ducks.
“A boat without a motor’s too risky,” he said.
“Agreed.”
“I also think we need to keep moving down the shoreline. At some point, we’ll run into people.”
A howl echoed through the forest. Ryan turned away from the shore, searching for movement in the trees.
Ellie’s face was flushed from the heat. It had to be getting close to three o’clock, and that meant the temperature was still fairly high. Without water, dehydration wouldn’t take long to settle in. And the heat was already making them perspire, which was only going to speed up the dehydration process. On top of that, there was the constant threat of malaria and yellow fever from every mosquito that bit him. But they couldn’t worry about that. Not when there were armed men after them. Because while heat stroke was a risk at this point, the odds of getting shot if the men found them again were probably even higher.
The brush rustled behind him. Closer this time. Ryan grabbed a thick stick off the ground, then turned to the right, ready to defend them. But his weapon wasn’t enough. Ryan heard the click of a revolver. Yuri appeared a dozen feet away. Far enough that they could run, but close enough that it would be easy to take them down with a clear shot.
This time the man wasn’t smiling. “Don’t move, both of you, and put your hands in the air where I can see them.”
The camp the men led them to was nothing more than a couple of run-down buildings, where they’d apparently set up a temporary hideout in the jungle. Yuri had offered no information about the men who’d ambushed them or the man who’d gotten shot.
“I need your first-aid kit.” Yuri grabbed her backpack, unzipped it, then dumped the contents onto the ground in front of them.
“What are you doing?” Ellie asked.
“One of my men was shot—”
“Wait.” Ryan grabbed the man’s hand. “This man needs medical help, not just a first-aid kit. There’s got to be a clinic somewhere nearby.”
Yuri pulled away. “I don’t have a choice. The nearest clinic’s an hour and a half from here by boat. We’ve got to stop the bleeding.”
Ryan glanced at Ellie. “I’ve got some medical training. You’ve got to do this properly.”
Yuri hesitated. “What are you going to do?”
Ellie stopped beside Ryan and studied the man who was lying on a mat on the ground in the shade of a large tree. While it was hard to feel sorry for him, blood had soaked through his leg. Avoiding infection in an environment like this wasn’t going to be easy. Any bacteria from the bullet, the man’s skin or clothing, or anything else that might have touched the wound could end up killing him. And if they could help, maybe their captors would end up being more sympathetic.
“I can flush the wound and cover it, but then you’re going to have to get him to a doctor,” Ryan said. “He’s going to need antibiotics.”
Ryan held the man’s gaze while Yuri considered the offer.
“Okay, but don’t try anything stupid.”
“I can help,” Ellie said.
Ryan nodded. “Good, because I’m going to need you. What do you have in your bag?”
“Just the basics. Antiseptic wipes, antibacterial ointment, bandages, medical tape, pain medicine.”
“What about scissors?” he asked.
Ellie dug through the bag, then handed him a small pair.
The man groaned as Ryan cut away the clothing from the wound. “The good thing is that the bullet skimmed his thigh, leaving a narrow trench instead of a hole in his leg.”
Ryan worked to flush out the wound with only an occasional instruction while Yuri continued hovering and Ellie tried to get the man to calm down. Five minutes later, Ryan covered the wound with a butterfly bandage Ellie had in her backpack, then gave the man some pills for the pain.
“We could help you get him to the nearest clinic,” she said, catching Yuri’s gaze.
“Forget it. If you think what you just did is going to somehow buy your way out of here with your good deeds, it’s not happening. The two of you aren’t going anywhere.”
Ryan grabbed a bottle of hand sanitizer and squirted the gel in his palm before handing it to Ellie. “How much are you being paid to keep us here?”
“Enough to make sure you don’t escape again.”
Yuri motioned to Pedro, who grabbed some twine and proceeded to tie them to two wooden chairs side by side at the edge of the clearing.
Ellie
