Page 38 of Her Mercenary
But mostly, I remember the crack of the gunshot.
20
SAM
The first bullet missed me by inches. The second ricocheted off a tree just above my head, sending an explosion of bark into the air.
I ran blindly, full force, through the dense foliage like a wild animal. Rocks and stones cut my bare feet. Thorny bushes and twigs dragged like switchblades over my naked body, continually snagging on my suit jacket as I sprinted past.
Though the moon was full, the thick canopy of leaves overhead blocked the light, stealing any hope I had for a sense of direction.
Straight. Just stay straight, I reminded myself, focusing on placing each foot directly in front of the other so that I didn’t deviate from the path.
“I’ll find you.”
The vegetation became thicker, the terrain more uneven, threatening to trip me with each step, yet my speed didn’t slow. I was running for my life, running from the hell that had enslaved me for weeks.
I fell twice, tumbling painfully to the ground, only to use that momentum to push back up and begin again.
As I ran into the jungle, I began to fear not only the men who were probably chasing me, but also the jungle that was closing in around me, suffocating me. The sounds of nature intensified around me, a concert of thrumming and buzzing and chirping. It was so loud, I wouldn’t be able to hear someone coming after me.
I ran, and ran, and ran, clumsily bouncing off trees, pushing through bushes, leaping over fallen trees.
Stay straight, stay straight.
Sweat poured down my face, dripping off the tip of my nose. I could barely breathe in the humid air.
The gunshots stopped, the voices and shouts faded in the distance.
Still, I ran.
Adrenaline, and adrenaline alone, was what kept me going that night. I’d had nothing but a stale muffin and a cup of water that day. Combining that with the weight loss and sedentary life of being kept in a cage, it was nothing short of a miracle I made it as far as I did.
After what felt like an hour, fatigue began to take hold. My legs were past the burning and tingling phase, and well into the almost-giving-out phase. I finally allowed myself to slow and began hiking upward, crawling over massive boulders, slipping between narrow crevices of stone.
The trees thinned, silver beams of moonlight dappling the jungle floor ahead.
I stopped suddenly, getting the feeling that I wasn’t alone.
Knowing I wasn’t alone.
Out of nowhere, it seemed, an arm wrapped around my waist and a hand clamped over my mouth. I was lifted off the ground, my body spun, and I was shoved backward into the ledge of a cliff, between two beams of moonlight splashed like paint against the rocks.
“Quiet,” the King whispered into my ear.
I sucked in air through my nose, trying to control my heaving breaths. My heart felt like it was about to explode.
“Quiet,” he said again, then slowly lowered his hand from my mouth. Streaks of moonlight slashed his face, twinkling in his green eyes. “Stay here.”
He didn’t wait for a response, simply left me hugging a cliff, half-naked like a woman on the stake.
I focused on the light pat of his footsteps over rocks, the rustle of leaves somewhere nearby, and then ... nothing.
My eyes rounded as I desperately tried to see anything in the darkness in front of me.
Silence engulfed me.
Seconds passed. Minutes.