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“I just won’t,” she reiterated. “Not out here with all the creepy sounds.”
“You’re as safe as you can be inside this hammock next to me,” he whispered. “I’m a light sleeper. Anything shows up, I’ll know. So, you can close your eyes.”
Lorna conked out first, not five minutes later. Amy took longer but even she gave into sleep at the ten-minute mark.
As for Knox, a light sleep would do the trick. He wouldn’t have needed that before the accident.
This place was just as he remembered, loud, with deafening chirps that only got louder as night fell. Mosquitos in large numbers tapped against the netting, searching for a weak spot to break in. Probing for entry, they had the bullheaded determination of a Southern Baptist preaching to a sinner.
For hours, Knox lay still, powering down for the journey ahead as his mind tried to play tricks onhim. Shadows took on new meaning out here. Everything was bigger, louder, hungrier. The jungle made Darwin proud. Survival of the fittest.
The pair of men could still be out here but Knox suspected they were long gone by now. They wouldn’t have reason to stick around. If they were in the drug trade, they’d done their job, spooking Amy and Donnie away from the area. If they were moving drugs through this area, they would have kept going.
Local tribes wouldn’t likely have men dressed the way Amy had described, so he could rule them out.
And what about Donnie? Knox wasn’t sure what to think about him. Did Lorna know her boyfriend as well as she thought?
In the morning, he would ask questions. Tonight, he would let her rest. Would Amy know much about the pair? Knox could ask questions in the vein of trying to figure out Donnie’s skill level when it came to surviving out here. Amy had lived by staying on the move. The strategy had taken its toll.
The constant buzzing was enough to irritate the hell out of Knox. Give him a mission in the desert before sticking him in the jungle. The water. The possibility of drowning.
They would have to wade through water to get back to base camp. There was no getting around it. Convincing Amy might be a different story.
Knox tried not to think about how good her bodyfelt against his despite the circumstances. Her warmth. The way she seemed to fit him perfectly. How the world seemed to right itself when Amy was this close. It was a feeling like he’d never experienced before and shouldn’t be now. Not with Amy, no matter how much his brain protested.
Their clothes were wet and would stay that way until this ordeal was behind them. The bacteria-infested waters were part of the reason he’d been frustrated with the cut on her arm. It was too easy to end up with a life-threatening condition his small tube of antibiotic ointment wouldn’t be able to heal. Even the smallest cut opened doors for infection that needed to stay closed.
Suddenly, the chirps quieted, drowned out by what sounded like a jet engine taking flight. Next, a soaking, driving, all-consuming rain inundated them.
At least they got a break from noisy mosquitoes.
Knox was finally able to drift off.
Too soon, he awakened to sounds that were too close for comfort. He reached for the knife strapped to his thigh, secured in its sheath. He flipped the leather strap off that held the knife in place. The metal handle cool against his warm palm.
The Velcro would make a noise, alerting whoever or whatever was lurking around their temporary campsite. Amy stirred, so he whispered, “Still.”
Her body tensed against his, muscles stringing tight.
Knox managed to move his arm from underneath her neck and then roll onto his opposite side, ready for whatever came through the trees. Slowly, painstakingly, so as not to make unnecessary noise, he opened the Velcro.
Like a coiled snake, he mentally prepared for a quick strike to catch the predator off guard. The element of surprise could give him all the advantage he needed to hit first.
Tightening his grip on the handle, he inched the Velcro open more as the noise was twenty feet away, maybe more.
The first break came when the predator switched directions. Just in case it was one of the men, or both, searching for Amy, he slipped out and onto all fours on the ground. Keeping low, he moved toward the sound, tamping down the pain in both ankle and wrist. The pain was always worse following a period of rest. The stiffness wasn’t helping matters as he remained as stealthy as possible.
The predator might be circling their encampment, angling for the perfect place from which to strike.
Speaking of striking, from the corner of his eye he saw movement in the canopy. A green vine snake?
Yes, he confirmed as the damn thing slitheredaway. This seemed like a good time to remind himself snakes were more afraid of humans than the other way around. Most snakes. And it depended on whether or not the snake was surprised by the human. Catching a snake off guard was a good way to end up with a bite.
Since he was currently doing just that, he forced his thoughts to what he was really after…or should he say who?
Movement up ahead caught his attention. A person. Male.
Knox circled around to get a better look.
