100 Hours

  “How’s your glucose level?” she asks as she abandons her entourage.

  I shrug. My eyes water as I dig a protein bar from my bag. Ryan always made sure I had plenty of low-carb snacks.

  “Maddie.” Genesis puts one hand over my food, so that I have to look at her. “What does your pump say?”

  I check the display. My blood sugar is around eighty. Too high. “I just need a snack.” Soon I’ll have to change my insulin pump site and install a fresh cartridge, but that will take time and energy I don’t want to expend right now.

  “¡Vamos!” Silvana yells, and we are on the move again.

  “Where do you think they’re taking us?” I ask Genesis as I wipe sweat from my forehead.

  She shrugs. “Getting a ransom will take time. They haven’t even sent out any demands yet. So they must have a camp somewhere.”

  “Ryan doesn’t have time,” I murmur.

  Holden steps up on my cousin’s other side. “Wake up, Maddie. Your brother’s dead,” he whispers fiercely, and I suck in a deep breath, trying to hold back fresh tears. “The only way to stop that from happening to the rest of us is to take action. We need to—”

  “Shut up!” Genesis shoves him with both hands, and Holden stumbles into a tree. Rifles swing toward us. The hike comes to a sudden halt.

  Holden pushes himself upright. His face is bright red and furious. “What the hell?” he demands through clenched teeth.

  “Be useful, or be elsewhere.” Genesis grabs my arm and tugs me away from him.

  Silvana laughs. “¡Vamos!” she shouts. And the hike resumes.

  GENESIS

  “Do you hear that?” I frown into the jungle, concentrating on the new sound. “Hiking downhill usually leads to—”

  “Water,” Indiana says. The sound of the current gets louder with each step, then the narrow trail opens into a broad clearing. Yet there’s no river. After a second of staring into empty space, I understand why.

  The clearing ends in a cliff overlooking a roaring rapid so far below that I can’t see the water from where I stand.

  I drop my pack on the ground and ease toward the edge to peer down at the river. Indiana follows me, one arm extended. Ready to grab me if I fall.

  “Damn it.” Frustration weighs down my arms and legs. We’re tired, hungry, and filthy, and I can’t justify drinking any more of my water until I know I can refill the bottles.

  “Did you think you were going swimming, princesa?” Silvana sneers, standing well back from the cliff. “Let’s go.”

  “Madalena . . .” Sebastián’s voice holds an eerie tension, and I turn to see my cousin walking slowly toward me. Toward the edge. Her hands are shaking.

  “Maddie.” Chill bumps pop up on my arms, in spite of the heat. I reach for her, but she lurches even closer.

  “Grab her,” Silvana orders from the tense silence behind us. But no one else is close enough, because you’d have to be crazy to get this close to that kind of drop.

  Or desperate.

  “Maddie,” I say, but she’s not listening. Her gaze trails downriver. The river runs to the east. In the direction of the bunkhouse.

  “Don’t do it,” I tell her, while the tense silence behind us stretches on. “It won’t work.” I look down, and my head spins.

  The toes of her boots hang over open air and I inch forward to meet her. My boots scrape loose tiny clods of dirt, which tumble into the water far below. I take her hand. “Come on.”

  Maddie lets me pull her back one step. Then another. On the third step, I exhale slowly. On the fifth, I let her go.

  Indiana lays his hand low on my back, and the touch is reassuring.

  “¡Vamos!” Silvana shouts, gesturing to us with her pistol. “¡Vamos!” Her men follow her lead, trying to corral with rifles and fierce looks.

  Maddie glances at me, while everyone else is distracted. Desperation shines in her eyes. She races toward the edge of the cliff.

  I grasp for her, but I already know I’m too late.

  Maddie launches herself over the cliff.

  GENESIS

  I drop to my knees and stare over the edge, but Maddie is already gone.

  I close my eyes and suck in a deep breath, then let it out slowly. I push everything away.

  Then I stand.

  Shoulders square, I open my eyes and turn around.

  Domenica stares at me, her hands clasped over her mouth.

  “Oh shit,” Penelope breathes. “Ohshitohshitohshit. Gen—”

  “Stop it.” I grab her arm and look right into her eyes. “Get your shit together right now.” Panicking won’t help. Crying won’t help. When you lose someone, you pick yourself up and you move on, because that’s the only thing that makes sense.

  Penelope flinches away from me. I let her go.

  “Mierda.” Silvana finally edges toward the cliff and peers over.

  “They’re gonna kill us,” Penelope whispers. “Maddie just screwed us all.”

  “Idiota,” Silvana declares, and several of the gunmen laugh. She turns to me. “Your cousin just saved me a bullet.” But there’s something off in her voice. She’s trying much too hard to convince us that she’s happy about that.

  “¡Vamos!” Silvana calls. “Genesis Shipping! Let’s go!”

  I stare back at her without moving, five feet from the cliff. All the guns in the world can’t truly put her in control of me.

  “Get her,” Silvana orders.

  Moisés grabs my shoulder, but I break his grip with the back of my forearm. Seizing the inside of his bicep, I swing his arm forward, and slide behind him. I’ve done this maneuver so many times I don’t even have to think about it.

  But the next part . . . If I try for a choke hold and use Moisés’s weight against him, I’ll drag us both over the cliff. Instead, I dig in my heels and shove him forward.

  He falls to his hands and knees. His rifle swings on its strap, scraping the ground.

  Shocked silence descends on the cliffside clearing. That’s when I realize I’ve messed up. I let muscle memory do the work my head should have done, and now I’ve tipped my own hand.

  While Moisés stands, I glance over my shoulder just as something bobs to the surface of the river.

  Maddie’s backpack.

  Moisés grabs me again, fury burning in his gaze, and I jerk my arm from his grip.

  “If you ever touch me again, you’ll pee sitting down for the rest of your life.”

  Silvana aims her pistol at my rib cage. Her gaze is cold. “On your knees, princesa.” She points to the cliff. “There.”

  “Do what you’ve got to do,” I say, counting on the fact that she can’t kill me. They took me hostage for a reason. “I’m not going to kneel.”

  Silvana’s eyes narrow. She swings the pistol in Penelope’s direction. “Kneel, or I put a bullet in your friend’s head.”

  Pen gasps. Tears fill her eyes. She stares at me as if I might actually let her die because she slept with my boyfriend.

  She will pay. But not like this.

  I walk backward toward the cliff, so I don’t have to turn my back on Silvana. Fear fuels my rapid heartbeat, but I clench my jaw and steady my steps. I glance over my shoulder again and again as the edge draws closer.

  Pen and Domenica are pale with terror. Holden and Indiana both look torn, as if they can’t decide whether an intervention would make things better or worse for me.

  “Kneel,” Silvana orders.

  Less than a foot from the edge, I drop carefully onto my knees; then sit on my heels. My certainty that she won’t shoot me wavers as I stare at the barrel of her pistol.

  “You!” Silvana shouts at Penelope. Then she turns to the rest of the group. “All of you. Join her.” When no one moves, she flips her pistol around and aims the butt at my face.

  I flinch and close my eyes, bracing for the blow.

  “Wait!” Indiana calls, and I look up to see him heading toward me. Rog escorts Penelope with one arm around her
shoulders and Domenica follows right behind them, clutching the straps of her backpack so tightly that her fingers are white. Her expression is grim.

  Holden comes last.

  In spite of his bravado about taking action, he doesn’t know what to do when there’s a gun aimed at my head. When there’s a problem that neither his money nor his name can solve.

  We’re lined up, kneeling on the brink of the cliff, execution style. Silvana waves her men forward, and they aim rifles at our heads.

  I fight to steady my breathing. On the edge of my vision, Penelope’s chest hitches with panicked hiccuping and a high-pitched, terrified whine I don’t think she even knows she’s making.

  We are going to die here, on our knees. Humiliated and defeated.

  And I am the one who brought us all here.

  Silvana holds up one hand, fingers spread. My heart slams against my chest as her fingers fold one at a time, counting down the seconds until my death. “Five. Four.”

  One of the gunmen smiles. Natalia shifts uncomfortably, and I notice that she’s not looking at any of us.

  Not all of Silvana’s people are happy with this demonstration.

  “Three.”

  Behind the line of executioners, Sebastián and Óscar stand with their rifles aimed at the ground. Sebastián’s jaw is tight. Óscar stares at his feet.

  “Two.” Silvana has only her pinkie finger left.

  Penelope sobs.

  “I’m so sorry for getting us into this,” I whisper to her. My rebellion has made it easier for our captors to kill us than to put up with us long enough to claim a ransom.

  Silvana drops her hand without saying the last number. “That’s how long it will take to kill you if you try to escape.”

  Penelope trembles so hard on my left that I’m afraid she’s having a seizure. I let my head fall forward, waiting for my pulse to slow.

  “Álvaro.” Silvana nods to the soldier in front of me. I look up as he unsnaps a machete from a loop on his belt. He brings the blade to my throat.

  I gasp, then freeze. The warm metal presses into my flesh. If I take too deep a breath, I’ll spill my own blood.

  “And this is what will happen if anyone tries to rescue you,” Silvana says. “Are we clear?” My fellow hostages nod on the edge of my vision, but I’m too scared to move.

  Silvana makes another gesture, and the gunmen lower their weapons.

  The man with the machete at my throat winks at me, and chills slide down my spine. When he finally steps back, I fall forward, bent over my knees, wiping tears from my face as fast as they form.

  I am not dead.

  As I pick up my backpack and fall into line again, I pass Silvana and Moisés. “Busca el cuerpo,” she whispers to him.

  My jaw clenches until my teeth creak. She just told him to find Maddie’s body.

  40.75 HOURS EARLIER

  MADDIE

  I scream as I plunge into the river. Water fills my mouth.

  The river slings me downstream, and I flail against the current. My elbow smashes into a rock. My lungs burn.

  I fight toward the surface and suck in as much water as air. The current is too strong. My backpack is too bulky. The river rips it from me as I ricochet off rocks and floating branches.

  I’m flying down the river.

  Totally out of control.

  GENESIS

  Rain begins to fall mid-morning—just enough moisture to keep us damp and irritable.

  No one talks. We are each stuck in our own heads, islands of fear and exhaustion isolated by the sound of the rain and the difficulty of the hike. As I lower myself down muddy hills with handfuls of bamboo and dangling vines, skinning my palms and bruising my knees, I think about Maddie and Ryan.

  My cousins. Gone. Just like my mother.

  Every breath is hard to take. Each step requires staggering effort.

  Could I be wrong? Are they still alive? Can they be for much longer?

  The only thing I’m sure of is that this is all my fault.

  40.5 HOURS EARLIER

  MADDIE

  I slam into something jutting out from the bank. A thick root. Water rushes around me. Pulling at me. Roaring in my ears. But I hang on.

  I take a deep breath.

  Then I pull myself hand over hand toward the bank.

  39 HOURS EARLIER

  GENESIS

  “Fifteen minutes for lunch!” Silvana shouts.

  I’m no stranger to exercise, yet I ache all over from the grueling pace of the hike. My clothes are wet from the intermittent rain, and my boots are caked in mud.

  Indiana and Domenica drag a fallen log through the mud toward me, and my friends all gather around, pulling food and half-empty bottles of water from their bags.

  I’m starving, yet already sick of tuna and protein bars, so I trade Indiana one packet of lemon-pepper flavored tuna and twelve soggy crackers for (approximately) two tablespoons of peanut butter and an oatmeal cream pie.

  What I wouldn’t give for a ramekin full of crème brûlée. Or even just a turkey sandwich.

  “So?” Rain drips on Penelope’s unopened gourmet PowerBar. Her focus follows mine to where our captors have split in two cliques—one surrounding Sebastián, the other seated around Silvana. “What’s the plan?” Her lip quivers. “Are we just going to wait to be ransomed?”

  “No.” Holden takes the spot next to her on the log. “I saw Sebastián with a satellite phone, but they haven’t called in any demands yet.” He rests his hand awkwardly on his own leg. As if he wants to pull Pen into a hug, but knows that if he touches her, he’ll have more to fear than our kidnappers. “We’re not going to be ransomed any time soon.”

  “That can’t be good,” Domenica whispers.

  No, it can’t. It means this is about more than ransom money. It means they’re prepared to hold us for a long time. It means they don’t have to keep all of us alive to get whatever it is that they want.

  I give her a steady, confident look as I shield my face from the last patters of rain with one hand. “It just means they’re waiting until they get to their base of operations to figure out who to call and what to ask for.”

  Holden rips open a bag of peanuts with more force than necessary. “What it means is that this isn’t going to end any time soon unless we end it.”

  38.75 HOURS EARLIER

  MADDIE

  I collapse on the wet ground, panting. A leaf sticks to my cheek. Grass clings to my soaked clothes.

  My elbow throbs. My shin is scraped raw. My limbs weigh a hundred pounds each. But I am alive, and only slightly woozy from insulin deficiency.

  Insulin . . .

  Groaning, I push myself up and lift my shirt to check my pump. My shoulders sag with relief. Still working. Nothing else matters.

  Nothing but getting back to my brother.

  I scrub my hands over my face. Think!

  We couldn’t have hiked more than an hour west of the bunkhouse, and the river carried me southeast. Ryan can’t be more than an hour’s hike north.

  North-ish, at least.

  I stumble in what I hope is the right direction, grabbing branches and roots to haul myself up muddy inclines. Pushing farther and farther to the northeast.

  Closer and closer to my brother.

  “Please be alive.”

  Tears blur the jungle. My boot catches on something and I slam into the ground. I push myself up again, and now I am running.

  Branches slap my face. Thorns catch my clothes.

  I keep running.

  GENESIS

  “With Moisés gone, there are six of us, and six of them.” Holden tears open a package of salted almonds as he walks, and several of them fall onto the trail. “The odds are even.”

  “Guns tip the scale in their favor,” Indiana points out as he steps over a mud puddle.

  Holden shrugs. “So we take a couple of them.”

  “Brilliant.” I have to fight not to roll my eyes. “I mean, surely they’ll j
ust hand over their weapons if we ask nicely.”

  Holden’s gaze hardens. “I’ve seen you talk your way past club security with nothing more than a low-cut blouse. Hell, you got us a private tour of the park by making out with Nico.” He shoots a glance at Indiana, clearly hoping for a reaction, but Indiana is immune to drama, and that only makes Holden angrier. “Surely you could use your superpowers for good this time. Distract a couple of the guards long enough for us to get their guns.”

  My face flushes, then my embarrassment flares into white-hot anger over his hypocrisy. I glance pointedly from Holden to Penelope, then back, and Pen flinches. But I don’t call them out on their betrayal, because unlike my hot-tempered boyfriend, I don’t need to throw a fit to make a point.

  Instead, I call his bullshit.

  “Let me get this straight. You want me to take not one, but two of those gunmen into the brush and get naked with them so you can try to take their guns?”

  Holden’s gaze takes on a cruel glint. “You’d do it eventually, so why not now?” He’s trying to make me lash out at him, to prove that my temper’s as volatile as his. That I have no more self-control than he has. “You kind of owe it to me.”

  “Hey, man.” Indiana tries to step between us on the trail. “That’s not—”

  “I owe it to you?” I cut Indiana off, because I don’t want him drawn into the muck that is me and Holden.

  “To all of us.” Words fall out of Holden’s mouth so fast I can hardly follow them. “You’re the reason we’re here. Genesis says jump, and we all launch ourselves at the sky. Genesis says hike into the jungle, and we all stock up on bug spray.” He jumps down a small incline, where water has washed earth from beneath a large tree root, then turns to glare at me. “If it were up to me, we’d be partying on the beach in Cartagena right now.” His whispered tirade takes on a fiercer, colder tone, and spittle flies from his mouth with each syllable. “This is your fault, so you’re going to take off whatever you have to take off to keep those jungle savages occupied!”