Cold Day In Hell (7 page)

She drank greedily, deciding the water was the best she'd ever tasted. She swallowed easier when her parched throat found relief. Unable to resist the small waterfall, she splashed her face, neck, and arms. The cool liquid ran down the inside of her blouse, mingling with sweat and grime.

Finger-combing her hair, she dampened the curls before securing it off her neck in a knot. She turned to find Ty watching her. She closed the gap between them and inspected the cut. At least the wound was clean.

"You're right, it's not serious. We'll keep an eye out for infection."

"By the way, thanks for having my back."

The heat in his gaze sent Ana's heart tumbling. Her hand itched to stroke his jawline, stubble and all.

She'd never felt so alive. Jeez, the way he was looking at her made her feel like she could fly.

Oh. My. God. She felt lightheaded. A powerful, passionate need rolled into a knot low in her stomach.

They stood inches apart. His chest rose and fell rapidly. His breathing was as raspy as hers. He leaned toward her, his gaze locked on her lips. Oh, yes. He was going to kiss her.

His expression shifted, and the angry American ex-Ranger returned.

"We're moving out." He stepped back. "Now."

The adrenaline rushing through her system vanished, morphing into embarrassment. How could she have given into even a moment of lust when a massacre lay at her feet? Dead natives, who in reality were probably harmless, stared at the heavens with cold glares. Even the still faces of Ortega's men no longer looked so evil.

She uttered a quick prayer before she moved on. Even though she'd had no choice, three human beings lay dead by her hand, and it weighed heavily on her shoulders. She had no idea how to deal with the responsibility of killing another person.

Their faces would be forever embedded in her memory. All this death because of her promise.

Ty frowned. "Stop that. You've got guilt written all over your face. You're in no way responsible for this debacle."

All she could muster was a short nod. "I'm ready." Her trust in Ty grew with each moment, and she'd follow without hesitation. She dropped the compass into his shirt pocket.  

"Thanks. Once we leave this clearing, you won't be able to see. I get you not knowing what's ahead can be scary, but you have to trust me."

"Go. I do trust you." She grabbed his backpack with both hands, expecting him to plunge into the jungle. Instead, he looked over his shoulder at her. The sun was setting, and the orange glow danced in his dark eyes. His caramel skin shimmered.

"Hang on tight. I don't want to lose you." He kicked the glowing embers. He slid on the goggles, lifted the machete, and with one swing of his powerful arm, they entered the darkness caused by the thick foliage.

He moved faster and pressed harder while she did her best to hang on. They'd had no way to sew her pants leg back together after he'd cut it open to tend to her ankle and knee. Now pain spread from her foot to the slit in her pants. The material hung up on every low limb, ripping her jeans further up her leg. If he'd noticed the scar, he'd hidden any reaction.

Time passed, and she had no sense of how long or how far they'd traveled. Sweat coated her skin. The bugs grew thicker, devouring her flesh. No way was she opening her mouth to complain, but if he didn't stop soon, her ankle was going to give out. As if he sensed her weakening, he stopped and turned. Clutching his bicep, she felt his muscles tighten.

"Ten minutes and we'll rest. You up to it?"

She covered her mouth with her hand to keep out the insects. "Are there steaks and cold beer waiting?"

"Got yours right here in my pack."

"Then what are we waiting for?"

Moonlight peeked though the canopy, casting eerie shadows across their path. Ana had to force herself to focus on the man leading her to safety. Her thoughts remained with the dead men behind them. She tried and failed to develop a new plan that would end in Ortega's death. One that would allow her parents' spirits to rest. Instead, she blinked back tears for the lives lost.

A few final swings of the machete and a makeshift road appeared. Weathered and full of holes, the packed dirt was a welcome sight. Out of the dense growth into an open area, a light breeze caressed her cheek. The scent of the constantly moving river sent a rush of adrenaline renewing her strength.

"We'll stop here. Enjoy a breath of fresh air."

She accepted the canteen he passed. "Thanks."

"A minute here and it's back into the jungle."

"Too bad we can't stay close to the river bank."

"It would be cooler, but for now we need the jungle for cover. We're not far from the remains of a village. Not much to look at, but maybe one hut will be good enough to use. We'll rest there until daylight."

"I'm worried they'll catch up."

"We have to risk it. You need to get off that ankle."

****

Ty had stopped out in the open to ensure phone coverage, so he could call Nate. They needed to talk about Ortega. His determination to find Ana was digging away at Ty's last nerve. This bastard placed zero value on human lives. The slaughter back at the oasis was the perfect example.

Hoping not to scare the crap out of her, Ty moved out of earshot. Even then, he worded his sentences carefully.

"Yo," he spoke quietly. "Just checking in." He updated their location and got right to the real point of his call. "What's the status on Marcus?" If things turned bad, Ty wanted the third member of Lost and Found, Inc., Marcus Ricci, for backup. Friends for years, they'd played football in college together. Just like on the gridiron, Marcus would have his back.

"He's due home in a few days."

"Did he find the missing girl?" Ty figured he knew the answer. Marcus had been assigned to locate a teenager who'd vanished on the way home from school. He was quiet and deadly, like a pit bull that didn't growl. 

"Her and three others," Nate answered. "They were bruised and battered but alive."

"If his assignment is finished, I may need him to meet me in Bogota."

"Do you have problems? I'll come if you need me."

Shit. Should've known that was coming. "No way. Kay will kill us both. You let that bullet hole heal. Just keep the quiet man in town if you can."

"No problem. You'll call after you turn the target over to the FBI?"

"She's not exactly a target, and she has a name," Ty muttered low. "And this bastard Ortega is relentless. He's not going to quit until somebody stops him."

"No vendettas. The job is complete when Ms. Cisneros is safely in Jack Fury's hands."

"Listen, damn it. Ortega's men just slaughtered half a village. I had to kill the trigger-happy bastards. Ortega seems to have an unlimited supply, and they're gonna keep coming."

"I'll keep Marcus in town. He'll be here if you need him. Good enough?"

"You bet. How about you? The shoulder mended?"

"Doc said maybe another week. I must be doing okay, because Kaycie flew out this morning. She went to check on Jake's progress."

"It will be good to hear how he's doing."

Kay, as everyone called her except her husband, Nate, was keeping a watchful eye on Jake Donovan. Part of the tight-knit group they'd formed back in college, Jake hadn't fared well in Afghanistan. A head injury had turned him into a stranger. Damn near turned him into a monster. Ty hoped the surgery had not only saved Jake's life but restored his memory, too.

He stuffed the phone in his pack and walked back to where Ana had sat smack in the middle of the makeshift road.

"Everything all right?" She'd pulled the topknot down and was wrapping her hair around her hand. In one quick move, she secured it right on top of her head.

"We're right on schedule." He offered her his hand, marveling at the strength of her grip. She might not have been large in stature, but she was strong...inside and out.

They walked in tandem through the night. The drag on his backpack meant she was struggling. She seemed to be leaning heavily on him.

"Do you need to stop?"

"How much farther?"

The strain in her voice pulled him up short. "A few hundred yards. Want me to carry you?"

"No. Keep moving."

He swept her into his arms before she could protest and trudged ahead.

"What did you do that for?" she quizzed with a sharp tone.

She wasn't too pissed, because she rested her head on his shoulder.

"So do you have a family?" She lifted her head as if she could see him in the dark.

"Doesn't everybody?" The second he said it, she stiffened. Trying not to open old wounds, he tried joking. "Although, Nan used to tell me I was hatched not born."

"Your grandmother sounds like a smart woman."

"She used to be. She's been gone for years." Warm memories crept up on him. "She watched us while my mother worked. Used to claim I was never still, said I ran around like a chicken with his head cut off."

"I'm sorry. What about your mother and father? Are you close?"

This woman in his arms was full of questions. "Never met the sperm donor. My mother worked two jobs most of her life. She died mourning the murder of my sister."

"I'm sorry."

Her soft tone, filled with pity, stood the hair on his arms on end. If there was one person in this world who didn't deserve sympathy, it was him. Why had he shared information about his family? Fuck. He'd opened up and spilled his guts. Only a handful of people knew the truth about his sister's death.

He picked up the pace. The sooner they reached a hut, the sooner he'd escape Ana's inquisition.

He walked the last few yards to what was left of a small village. All but a couple of the handmade huts were mere shells, having burned to the ground. Behind the one hovel that had survived was a double row of graves. In this case, darkness served its purpose. She wouldn't see the area until after she'd rested.

He took a chance and turned on his flashlight long enough to get inside and make sure they wouldn't be sharing their humble abode with unwanted guests. Ana moved to stand beside him, pistol at the ready. Five-foot-five inches of bravery. He respected that.

The one-room shack was empty. In fact, nothing, other than the outer hull, hinted a human had ever been there. Ty wondered if a survivor had gathered his belongings and moved on, or if vandals had helped themselves to the spoils of war.

"Hang tight while I stack a few fronds over the opening. I'll get the lantern going soon."

"Bring a few back with you. I'll fashion somewhere to stretch out."

Ty turned and took a couple of steps outside. "Ana?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't—"

"I know." She laughed. "Don't shoot you."

She'd hadn't protested being left in the dark. Maybe she trusted he'd return. So he hustled.

He hated to block out the breeze. But it had to be done. Even turned down low, the lantern would shine like a beacon. If she fell asleep, he'd douse the light and let the fresh air inside. Until then, they'd sweat.

"Coming in," he said, pushing through with an armload of fronds. He used a few to shore up the makeshift door and carried the rest inside for her.

She didn't speak a word. Even through the NVGs, the panic on her face was obvious. Her mouth moved, but no sound came out. The reason was perched on her right shoulder.  

"You're doing fine," he said, keeping his tone soft.

He slowly pulled the lantern from his pack and turned it on. The giant tarantula rose up on its legs and bobbed up and down. A warning? Texas grew some damn large spiders, but this thing was larger than Ty's hand. Worse, it was inches from her face.  

Ana's entire body trembled, drawing the creature's attention. From the look in her eyes, Ty guessed he had seconds before she bolted.

He slowly lowered to his knees and inched forward. He extended his hand to rake off the tarantula. The ugly bastard stood up on those hairy legs and spun in a circle. In one motion, Ty swept the damn thing off her shoulder and onto a tree limb being used as a wall brace.

With a soft cry, she jumped into his arms, wrapping around him like a glove. He gathered her close, patting her back.

Her shoulders shook. Crying women freaked him out.

"Hey." He untangled her, considered kissing her cheeks dry but knew not to start something they might not be able to stop.

"Hey, yourself." Tears slowed to a trickle.

"Hang on."

Ty slipped his SOG out of the sheath. With a flip of his wrist, the knife sailed toward the offender. "There. He won't do that again."

Ana sat back on her heels and wiped her cheeks. She looked over her shoulder and laughed. The sound filled the hut and brightened the mood.

Her dark brown eyes searched his. "I thought you didn't kill innocents."

"That was no innocent. Did he bite you?"

She frowned and tilted her head sideways. "Spinning like he did was a defense mechanism. He raked my neck with the sharp spikes on his back legs."

"Crap." Ty inspected the already forming rash on her neck. His gut knotted. This could be some bad shit coming. "Are the spikes poisonous?"

"Not really. It's the equivalent of a bee sting and might give me a rash. I've never heard of anyone dying from them."

Ty's breath left his lungs in a whoosh. Relief was instantaneous. Her dying wasn't an option.

Yet again, he hadn't been there when someone else needed him.

She averted his gaze. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have leaned back to rest until you returned."

"Whoa." He gave her the universal sign for time-out. "Everything that goes wrong is not your fault." He caught her chin and tugged her head toward him. "I shouldn't have left you alone."

"I'm the reason you're not home having dinner with a girlfriend."

Ty shook his head. Arguing with her was a no-win situation. Growing up in the same house with his grandmother, mother, and sister had taught him to zip it shut when a woman got on a roll.

"Am I wrong?" she pushed.

"You are."

"So your wife's waiting?" She raised her eyebrows as a puzzled expression spread across her face.

Damn woman had the tenacity of a pit bull.