Chapter 20
Ashley
“ASHLEY.”
The words filtered into my dreams, but I was too comfortable and drowsy to pull myself out.
“Ashley.”
The words, more insistent this time, an urgent, whispered hiss, and someone’s hand was holding me down, the other over my mouth.
My eyes flew open, a scream in my throat, and I was already trying to pry off the constrictive weight that wouldn’t let me sit up, only to find Tri’s face an inch from my own. Even in the dim light under our shelter, I could see his gaze was wild, something swirling in their depths that made me want to curl up and hide.
“Don’t move. Don’t make a sound.” The words were barely a sound, but they sent a shiver of fear through me. “The terrorists found us, and they’re here. I will take care of them, but you have to be awake, alert, and silent. Do you understand?”
I nodded, Tri’s hand still over my mouth. He removed it slowly, as though he wasn’t sure I still wouldn’t scream. But I was too petrified to make any noise, my breath caught in my throat.
“Find somewhere you can hide. And do not make a sound.”
His blue eyes burned, his face a mask of intensity and something else that sent another shiver down my spine, something dangerous and shadowy. The man with whom I’d had spent the past few days with, laughing with, surviving with, was gone, replaced by a predator on the hunt.
The sight was nearly as frightening as the knowledge that the terrorists had found us. Even if I knew Tri wouldn’t hurt me, my body responded like a small prey animal, ready to go into fight or flight.
“Go. Go now.”
Tri slipped out from under the boat, and my body was up and in motion before my mind was aware of it, running across the chilled sand in the opposite direction he had gone.
I scrambled up and over the rocks beside the waterfall, the ones that had hidden it from view when we’d first arrived. They would provide protection as well as a vantage point so I could see what was going on.
My heart hammered in my chest, whooshing past my ears rapidly, making it nearly impossible to hear anything. I had to clench my hands tightly together, they were shaking so badly, and I was afraid they would hear my teeth chattering.
Scared out of my mind was how I had felt at the research station, but that attack had taken me by surprise. This time, I knew what kind of men we were facing, and the waiting was almost too much—it felt like my heart was going to either jump out of my chest or explode from the cold terror gripping me.
And this time, we didn’t have any kind of defense or weapons, just a rusted old pocketknife, and Tri, who seemed to be a weapon himself.
Then a figure in black came into view, creeping up the beach towards our makeshift hovel, as black and silent as a ghost. A gasp escaped before I could stop it, and I clapped a hand over my mouth, pushing harshly simply for the grounding feeling.
The figure slunk towards our small camp, something clutched in his hands, and though I couldn’t quite make it out in the dim light of dawn, I imagined it was a gun. He was still several yards away from our firepit when he stooped down and reached for something—the remnants of a pear.
He picked it up and smelled it, then tossed it down, his gaze sweeping the beach, then moving direction of the waterfall before coming to rest on the rock behind which I crouched. I slunk down further, stopped moving, stopped breathing, pressing myself against the stone until it was painful, praying the terrorist wouldn’t see me. Had he seen my outline? Had I not been hidden enough?
Where was Tri?
Another shadow crept out from the rocks further down, at first so subtle I thought I was seeing things. It materialized as Tri, creeping low to the ground, looking like nothing so much as a wild beast stalking its prey. Even in the dim light, I could see his gaze trained on the terrorist. Every movement, every footstep, was sure, made with an economy of energy that I’d only seen in documentaries of big cats in the wild or wolves on the hunt.
It made the hair on the back of my neck stand on end.
Suddenly Tri ducked, a shadow once again, and the terrorist flailed. It was difficult to see much of the scuffle in the dawn light, but the other soldier was pulling and scrabbling at the arm coiled around his neck, another around his chest, Tri’s tanned skin in stark contrast to the black gear.
Muffled choking was the only sound as the terrorist thrashed, trying briefly to fight, but Tri’s hold on him couldn’t be broken.
Then the arm Tri had around the man’s chest moved, as quick as a snake, grabbing something from the man’s utility belt. His hand came up and plunged towards the terrorist’s stomach, whatever Tri held in his hand sinking through the tactical gear without a sound.
Red suddenly blossomed on Tri’s hand and arm, bright red, and I had to look away.
When I looked back, the terrorist was crumpled on the ground, not moving, and Tri was gone.