Lisa Harris - No Place To Hide

But he had no gauges out here in the forest. No way to check air supply and depth. No exhaled bubbles to follow upward. Here they were surrounded by thick, wooded, marshy ground and tangled vines. There was nothing that would help with disorientation, or show them where the nearest way out was.

He squeezed Ellie’s hand, noticing that she was struggling to keep up beside him. Because his job required working with heavy gear and equipment, he was used to intensive training with cardio and weights, and pushing his body’s endurance, but even his heart was racing and his lungs burned from the exertion and the oppressive humidity.

“Ellie...”

She let go of his hand. “I need to stop. Just for a minute.”

He started in a slow circle, searching the trees around them for movement while she worked—palms on her thighs—to catch her breath. He listened for the sounds of the men who’d come after them. The constant hum of insects was broken by the occasional bird and monkey. But there was no sign of any of the men. Had they actually gotten away?

“Do you have any idea which way we’re going?” she asked.

“Not a clue. Do you remember how far the nearest village was from the airstrip?”

“According to the map, the village where we were supposed to go was the closest. About thirty minutes south of the airstrip. Dr. Reynolds had arranged for someone he knew to pick us up.”

“Sounds like either his man didn’t show up—”

“Or he saw what was happening and ran,” she said. “And now everything looks the same. Trees, vines, water...”

She was right. There was no way to tell if they were headed toward a village. What he did know was that they were somewhere in the middle of a billion acres of rain forest full of rivers, piranhas, boa constrictors and jaguars. Not exactly easy to narrow down where they needed to go.

He felt a sharp sting bore into his arm, and he brushed away the insect. “You ready? We need to keep going.”

“I know, but you need some repellant. You’ve got welts up and down your arm, and they’re not going to stop. I’ve got stuff in my backpack—”

“Later.” He scratched his arm. “We need to keep going. It’s just an allergic reaction, nothing seri—”

“Please.” She dropped her backpack off her shoulder. “I need to fix something.”

He grabbed her hands before she could unzip her backpack and pulled them toward his chest. “I know this is terrifying and I know you feel completely out of control, but we’re going to find a way out of this. We need to keep moving.”

She hesitated, then slid her pack back on. “I’m sorry. I just don’t know how to fix this.”

“For now, this will have to do.” He quickly rolled down his sleeves as an attempt to stop the mosquitoes’ feeding frenzy, glad he’d opted to wear long pants instead of shorts. Being eaten alive by these pesky insects was the last thing he needed.

He glanced behind him one last time as they continued pressing through the forest. He knew that if those men found them again, they weren’t going to simply let them go. He was sure of that. What he didn’t know was how long they’d be able to keep moving. Another ten minutes and they paused again. He held up his finger to his lips, signaling her to be quiet for a moment. The chatter of monkeys 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.”

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