Kimberly Meter - The Flyboy's Temptation

Hope gaped, unable to believe what he’d just done. She glanced down at her ruined shirt and realized he was right. At least it wasn’t going to get caught on branches now. Although she wasn’t entirely comfortable with how much skin was showing, J.T. seemed fine with it.

Ahem, he seemed more than fine with it if the appreciative glimmer in his eyes told the truth.

“Thank you,” she murmured, shouldering her pack and hoisting it higher on her back and tightening the straps.

The low buzz of an approaching aircraft caught their attention and Hope immediately started waving frantically to catch the pilot’s attention. J.T. yelled, “Get down!” and tackled her to the ground to hide in the foliage.

“What are you doing?” she screeched, unable to believe he’d just submarined a possible way out of the jungle. “That could be our rescue plane!”

“I can guarantee that is not a rescue plane,” he growled, holding her tight. “Remember how I said there were guerrillas in this jungle? Well, they use ultralight aircraft to patrol their territory, such as that Cessna that just flew overhead. Chances are they saw the plane down, which means they’re going to circle back around for a better look. We gotta get out of here, now.”

A flutter of alarm traveled her spinal cord. “What if they saw me?”

“Let’s not hang around and find out,” he said, letting her go as they climbed to their feet. The sound of the aircraft returning put their feet into sudden motion as they ran into the jungle, trying to lose themselves within the dense canopy.

Branches scraped her face and thick tree roots tripped her more than once as they ran like bats out of hell until they could no longer hear the plane, but by that point they were so deep in the jungle Hope was terrified that they’d gone from the frying pan to the fire.

Breathing hard, sweat running down their faces, they stopped to catch their breath as they regrouped.

“Do you think they saw us?” she asked when she could speak again.

“No way to know,” he answered grimly, and drew a deep breath. “But we gotta keep moving.”

“But we don’t even know where we’re going!” she protested. “We could be heading in the wrong direction.”

“We’ll follow the river. At least we’ll have access to drinking water.”

“But you said the river would take us over a cliff,” she reminded him anxiously.

“I guess we’ll just have to be careful.”

He flashed her a grin that belied the seriousness of the situation and she couldn’t help but feel a tiny bit reassured that they were going to be all right.

As long as they weren’t eaten.

Or shot.

4

J.T. TOOK POINT, pushing through the dense jungle, getting slapped and scratched by branches, as they slipped on slick mud and swatted at the mosquitoes that buzzed around their heads. By the time they reached the river bend, they were both hot, sweaty and hungry.

“That protein bar didn’t go very far,” Hope said, squinting at the midday sun, breathless. “I feel like my stomach is caving in.”

“Same,” he agreed, looking around. He knew that the Lacandon had plenty of edible fruits, tubers and greens, but he wasn’t about to take a chance and gnaw on a leaf he couldn’t identify.

And seeing as he wasn’t a botanist, he couldn’t identify much of anything.

However, Hope had better luck.

“Oh!” she exclaimed, moving past him to crouch on the jungle floor beside a leafy green bush that looked, frankly, exactly the same as the rest of the jungle, but when she rose with a triumphant smile and a handful of green pods, he knew she’d found something. “These are edible berries,” she explained, plucking the green buds and pouring a few into his palm.

“Are you sure?” he asked, regarding the buds with uncertainty. “I don’t want to die hallucinating that the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man is coming to eat me.”

“They are completely safe,” she assured him, popping her handful into her mouth. Immediately grimacing, she added, “But no promises on how they taste. Good gravy, that’s a different flavor altogether.”

He followed suit and experimentally chewed on the berries. “Whoa, you aren’t kidding,” he said, trying to categorize the flavor. “Not sweet, a bit sour...and grainy.”

She nodded and swallowed. “But edible. We should eat a few more.”

“I’m not sure starving wouldn’t be preferable to putting those things in my mouth again, but I’ll take your word for it.” He accepted a few more round green buds and hastily tossed them back, chewing quickly so he could get it over with. “What I wouldn’t do for my meatball sub,” he groused.

Hope commiserated, swallowing quickly. “Never been a huge fan, but right now I’d go face-first into that sub if it were in your hands.”

J.T. laughed and pulled the water canteen to wash down the jungle gunk. “Here, take a few swigs. The aftertaste is a killer.”

They shared a few drinks and then surveyed their situation. “Best guess, this is the Lacanjá River. If we follow it, we should run into a few villages. With any luck, we can hitch a ride to one of the bigger cities closer to Guatemala or Belize. From there we can regroup and find another plane.”

“And what if this isn’t the Lacanjá River, but some other tributary and we end up more lost than ever?”

“Then we’re going to be eating a lot more of those disgusting berries,” he said grimly. But, God, he hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

“That’s not a great prospect,” she said.

“Tell me about it.”

They wound their way along the river’s edge, slipping and sliding, landing more than once in the water, before they realized they were running out of traversable land and would have to double back.

“Maybe we could let the current take us downriver,” Hope suggested, and bit her lip in distress. Thinking better of her own suggestion, she said, “Or we could just find an alternate route.”

“The current is moving pretty fast. I wouldn’t want to take the chance if we didn’t have to.”

Hope agreed, sighing heavily. As they turned to go back the way they’d come, they heard the distinct sound of voices speaking Spanish heading their way and froze.

“What do we do?” Hope asked fearfully, swallowing as she stood rigid. “They’re going to see us any second!”

J.T. did some quick thinking and came up with two possible scenarios. Stick around and die, or jump in the water and possibly drown—only one option had a slim shot of survival. Grabbing her hand, he yelled, “Jump!” right as a bullet split the air by his ear and they went feetfirst into the fast-moving river.

If he hadn’t been choking on river water, the sudden cool of the water would’ve been refreshing, but the brutal current was tossing them around like rag dolls, pulling them under as they went, only to spit them out again as they drew quick lungfuls of precious air.

“J.T.!” Hope managed to scream before going under again. He swam toward her and managed to grab her hand and pull her to him, but the waves buffeted them, doing their best to tear them apart.

“Don’t let go!” he yelled, gripping her hand so hard he would’ve feared under normal circumstances that he’d snap bone.

J.T. popped out of the water in time to see the worst-case scenario materialize before his eyes. Awww, shit. A waterfall loomed and they were heading straight for it.

He knew they had seconds before they went over, so he used the time to shout quick instructions.

“Whatever you do, try to go feetfirst into the water. With any luck...we won’t hit rocks!”

“Rocks?” she cried, ending with a shrill, “OHHMYYGOD” as they plunged over the side.