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“Hell, yeah. She’s not safe down here. I’m going to have a fight on my hands.” Lurch grinned, anticipation in the expression.
Yeah, Oz thought, Lurch was a lucky man.
Chapter 29
Nyx didn’t know where Ramirez found the books he’d given her on Wednesday, but she’d spent her days and evenings studying them while she waited for Case to come back. Nerves were beginning to set in. Not because she doubted him—she believed in him wholeheartedly—but because the colonel was counting Wednesday as Day One and that meant today, Friday, was Day Three. Most people would consider Saturday Day Three.
What if he showed up a day too late?
Plotting an escape on her own was proving to be difficult. They’d moved her around from hut to hut, a different one every night. She was barely allowed outside.
The only two things she’d come up with were either to go into the rainforest or try to steal a boat. Of the two options, the river seemed like the best choice, but they kept the boats under constant guard. Or at least that’s how it appeared. It was hard to be sure when there were trees between the main camp and the water. This hut didn’t even have windows that faced that direction. She had to go up on tiptoes and crane her neck to see a sliver of river.
Of course, she was under guard, too. There were usually enough men to cover the four sides of whatever hut she was in at the time. She would need to ditch them, get past the guards at the river, steal a boat, and take off downstream.
At night.
Night was when the caimans hunted, and they were known to attack humans. Nyx couldn’t repress a shudder. Getting eaten by a member of the alligator family didn’t rank high on her list of ways to die.
The river also contained the green anaconda, electric eels, and bull sharks. It made her wish she didn’t know as much as she did about the local wildlife, but she never went anywhere without researching first. Like her dad always told her: know the lay of the land. Ignorance doesn’t allow contingency plans.
The rainforest held even more danger. It wasn’t limited to the insects, reptiles, and animals. She could get lost and wander around until she died. Nyx didn’t want to go in there alone at night without a weapon, an NVD, or a compass.
She needed Case to return. If he didn’t, she would have to risk an escape.
Maybe she could find a way to steal a rifle. Maybe a pistol and a knife, too. She could only hope Ramirez would give her until morning because if he didn’t, she was cooked. Escape in the dark would be difficult enough. In broad daylight? Next to impossible.
A noise reached her and Nyx bent her head, focusing her attention on the book on the table in front of her. The door opened, and she glanced up, acting as if she’d been reading for hours and was just now resurfacing. Ramirez. The way he looked at her had started to become uncomfortable.
She didn’t understand why. Her hair hadn’t been washed in days and she’d only had sponge baths since she’d become the raiders’ guest. Nyx felt grungy and gross, and the first thing she was doing when Case had her safe was jump in the shower.
“Have you found anything?” Ramirez demanded.
“Not yet,” she said and stood to face him squarely.
“Why not?”
There were many possible answers, but Nyx was certain some of them would anger him, like pointing out that a lot of what he’d given her was written fifty years after the British captain and his first mate were executed. She decided it was safest to blame herself. “Colonel, I’m reading in my second language. These books are handwritten with ornate lettering and the ink is fading, making it difficult to make out some of the words.”
He crossed the room. “All I hear are excuses.”
Nyx moved, trying to keep her distance from him. The leer was there, hidden behind the greed. Ramirez pulled to a stop in front of the table and glanced down at the book she had laying there. It was one where the ink was particularly faded, and the writing was over the top with flourishes.
“This is what I’m dealing with, Colonel,” she said quietly, gesturing toward the ledger. “On top of the difficulty reading these historical documents, I’m also looking for a clue. Any kind of clue. Something the Spanish viceroy did in 1821, and other treasure hunters have also attempted. If there was anything to find, I believe someone would have located it already.”
“You don’t think the treasure exists?”
Nyx couldn’t read his tone. “I think it exists. I’m just not sure any information exists to guide someone to its location.”
His stare gave her goosebumps. Case, where are you?
“No,” the colonel said, taking a step toward her, “something was written down. The men wouldn’t trust their memories. It might be written cryptically or in some sort of code, but they would have taken the time to record its location.”
“I’ll keep looking,” Nyx said, trying to ease away.
“Yes, you will.” His brown eyes bored into her, and if she could have moved any farther away from him, she would have done it. “Your fiancé isn’t back.”
“Tomorrow is the third day?—”