Page 9

Tory

My sneakers slipped and skidded through the muck as I wove between gnarled trees with trunks only just big enough to give me cover.

Angry voices cut through the dense vegetation in sharp staccato bursts of what I guessed was Filipino.

Not that I was any good at recognizing languages.

Although their words blended together, I didn’t miss the fury and frustration in their tones.

I wasn't like Whisper. She could drop men twice her size with a precise strike to the throat or put a bullet through their belly at fifty yards.

I couldn't even hit a parked bus from across the street, and my idea of hand-to-hand combat was accidentally elbowing tourists along the marina pontoons.

My talents lay in calmer arts, like sweet-talking a temperamental seaplane through a monsoon, at least it was, until I'd turned the poor girl into an expensive artificial reef.

Or crafting the perfect G good, he would have trouble chasing me through the muck with those on his feet.

But his body was coiled with control, every movement calculated, every step silent.

The way he swept the rifle in smooth, rhythmic arcs, perfectly timed to his footsteps, screamed military training.

His breathing was steady, almost mechanical, like he’d been built for this. Hunting. Stalking. Killing.

The spider scurried over my elbow and froze.

My heart slammed against my ribs as my gaze shot between the spider and the killer. The spider swayed side to side as if deciding where to sink its fangs.

The gunman took another step, his thong squelching into the mud as he swept his rifle in a slow, deliberate arc to the right. One turn in my direction, and it was over.

Even in the dim light, his wiry frame showed he was all muscle and scrawny, like he hadn’t eaten a decent meal in weeks. Whisper could take this guy down in a heartbeat. Could I?

If it came to it, I would give it a fucking good go.

I clenched my stomach, coiling every ounce of strength I had, ready to throw myself at him.

The spider darted three more inches up my arm and froze again.

A shudder ripped through me, and as I squeezed my fist, white-hot agony blazed through my dislocated finger. Fuck! How could I fight the killer like this?

My jaw locked so tight that every tooth ached.

He took another step.

A twig snapped to my left, followed by a rustle to my right. My stomach dropped.

Shit. I’m surrounded.

I pressed myself harder against the tree, willing it to hide me.

The spider crept over my sleeve, looking right at me. My breath hitched.

If it crawls near my face, I’ll fucking scream.

Unlike the first man, the one near me wore boots. He froze mid-step, and his head tilted like a predator catching a scent.

Can he hear me?

The rifle shifted slightly in his hands, and he pointed the barrel low to the left.

" May nadinig ako, " he called into the darkness, his voice sharp and guttural.

" Saan ?" An answer croaked from the right.

The first man's shoulders tensed, and his stance shifted like a predator sensing its prey. " Doon. "

The rustling to my right grew louder. Branches cracked, mud squelched. The man in thongs turned toward the sound, and his movements were razor-sharp as his rifle snapped into position.

" Baka dagang tubig, " the second voice called, louder, more confident.

The man in thongs gestured sharply with his free hand. " Masyadong malaki ang ingay para doon. "

I pressed harder against the bark, my body trembling.

" Natatakot ka ba, bunso? " The voice came from my left, deeper than the others.

Jesus. How many of them were there? I’d counted four on that rubber raft. Maybe more had followed them.

Something heavy splashed into the water.

The first man spun toward it, his jerky movements betraying his fear. “ Pakyu ka. ”

The other man laughed. He was enjoying this too much.

The spider swayed, its leg brushing my arm. Fuck .

" Tumahimik kayong mga gago, " the first guy snapped. He tightened his grip on the rifle and took a cautious step toward the noise, his gaze sweeping the shadows.

The man at the back of the pack stepped close enough that I could see the sweat on his temple and the tension in his jaw.

They all paused at once. Silence swallowed the swamp, broken only by the buzz of insects and the distant croak of a bullfrog.

The spider darted to my shoulder.