Her Kind of Hero Read Online Free PDF Page B

companion had his small light trained ahead. She noticed that huge knife in his left hand as he started ahead of her. She remembered that Micah was left-handed…
    The jungle growth was thick, but passable. Her companion shifted his backpack, so dark that it blended in with his dark gear and the jungle.
    â€œStay close behind me. Don’t speak unless I tell you to. Don’t move unless I move.”
    â€œOkay,” she said in a husky whisper, without argument.
    â€œWhen we get where we’re going, I’ll take care of that cut.”
    She didn’t answer him. She was exhausted. She was also dying of thirst and hunger, but she knew there wasn’t time forthe luxury of food. She concentrated on where she was putting her feet, and prayed that she wouldn’t trip over a huge snake. She knew there were snakes and lizards and huge spiders in the jungle. She was afraid, but Lopez was much more terrorizing a threat than a lonesome snake.
    She followed her taciturn companion through the jungle growth, her eyes restless, her ears listening for any mechanical sound. The darkness was oddly comforting, because sound traveled so well in it. Once, she heard a quick, sharp rustle of the underbrush and stilled, but her companion quickly trained his light on it. It was only an iguana.
    She laughed with delight at the unexpected encounter, bringing a curt jerk of the head from her companion, who seemed to find her amusement odd. He didn’t say anything, though. He glanced at his instrument again, stopped to listen and look, and started off again.
    Thorns in some of the undergrowth tore at her bare arms and legs, and her face. She didn’t complain. Remembering where she’d been just before she was rescued made her grateful for any sort of escape, no matter how physically painful it might be.
    She began to make a mental list of things she had to do when they reached safety. First on the list was to phone and see if Jack Steele was all right. He must be worried about her sudden disappearance. She didn’t want him to suffer a setback.
    Her lack of conversation seemed to puzzle the big man leading her through the jungle. He glanced back at her frequently, presumably to make sure she was behind him, but he didn’t speak. He made odd movements, sometimes doubling back on the trail he made, sometimes deliberately snappingtwigs and stepping on grass in directions they didn’t go. Callie just followed along mindlessly.
    At least two hours passed before he stopped, near a small stream. “We should be safe enough here for the time being,” he remarked as he put down the backpack and opened it, producing a small bottle of water. He tossed it to Callie. “I imagine you’re thirsty.”
    She opened it with trembling hands and swallowed half of it down at once, tears stinging her eyes at the pleasure of the wetness on her tongue, in her dry mouth.
    He set up a small, self-contained light source, revealing his companion. He moved closer, frowning at her enthusiastic swallowing as he drew a first aid kit from his backpack. “When did you last have anything to drink?” he asked softly.
    â€œDay…before yesterday,” she choked.
    He cursed. In the same instant, he pulled off the mask he’d been wearing, and Callie dropped the water bottle as her eyes encountered the dark ones of her stepbrother, Micah, in the dim light.
    He picked up the water bottle and handed it back to her. “I thought it might come as a shock,” he said grimly, noting her expression.
    â€œYou came after me yourself?” she asked, aghast. “But, how? Why?”
    â€œLopez has an agent in one of the federal agencies,” he told her flatly. “I don’t know who it is. I couldn’t risk letting them come down here looking for you and having someone sell you out before I got here. Not that it would have been anytime soon. They’re probably still arguing over jurisdictions