Page 68

CHAPTER 67

Democratic Republic of the Congo, 1 a.m.

IT WAS RAINING hard in the jungle. A pelting tropical downpour. Kira was running as fast as she could through the dripping foliage. Wet leaves and branches slapped against her face and arms with every step. She was now a half mile past the line of fire-charred trees. But it wasn’t far enough.

She was running for her life.

Her new pursuers were impossible to shake, even when she could see them coming. And they were easy to see. All five of them. They were the huge men she spotted the day before with Gurney. The ones with the flamethrowers.

This posse was clearly a lot more motivated than the miners. And they were much better trackers. Kira knew good training when she saw it, and these five were pros.

No flaming torches for them. They carried powerful tactical flashlights that cut sharply through the night. Kira was constantly ducking and diving to avoid being caught in the beams.

She dodged down an animal trail with wild, unpredictable turns. She slipped on a patch of wet moss, fell on her ass, scrambled back to her feet. Her side still hurt with every twist, but there was no time to favor it. She had to plunge on, faster and faster.

She looked for a tree to climb, but the bark was too slick. She only got a few feet off the ground before sliding back down, wasting precious seconds as the five giants closed in.

She turned down another trail—deeper and darker and narrower, with more overhanging branches. Dangerous. There were leopards out here. Kira had heard their sawing roars. And she knew hungry cats would hunt even in the rain.

The sound of the downpour now mixed with another kind of rush. Louder. Off to her left. Running water! Kira burst out of the bush and skidded to a stop on a small mound of mud overlooking a tumbling, foaming river—about thirty feet wide, and moving fast.

She looked back. The flashlight beams were cutting through the foliage behind her, only about twenty yards downstream. She looked at the swollen river. Insane.

She had no choice.

She tightened the strap of her backpack and jumped. She hit the water feetfirst and plunged deep. Deeper than she expected. She saw a dark shape just before it whacked her in the temple. A thick branch, propelled by the current. It dazed her for a second. She scrambled deeper, where the current was slower. She hung there for a moment as silt and debris washed past her. Her eyes began to sting. She flexed her legs and launched herself toward the opposite shore.

Suddenly, another shape was coming toward her, at eye level. Bigger than the branch, and moving in an undulating pattern. Kira squinted through the murk. Her gut tightened.

A river croc!

She had only a second to pull her knife. She wrapped her fingers tight around the grip and pinpointed a spot just behind the reptile’s eyes. The thing was almost on her. She could see the bottom teeth protruding over the upper jaw. She raised her knife. She heard a dull pop. The croc’s head exploded. The huge body convulsed, then started to tumble with the current, trailing a crimson cloud.

Kira pushed herself toward the surface. She was back close to shore. Lights bounced off the water. She felt a sudden, stinging pain in her scalp. She was being pulled out of the river by her hair.

Her knife was kicked out of her hand. She landed hard on the muddy bank. She grabbed her side in pain as flashlight beams lit her up from head to toe.

Kira shielded her eyes with one hand and looked up. Five massive shapes loomed over her.

The Black guy leaned down out of the glare, so close that she could see his bloodshot eyes and flaring nostrils. He had a shotgun in his hands. It was still smoking.

“Hi there, Goldilocks,” he said. “You can thank me later.”