“That’s brilliant.” I twist in his arms and pull him down for a grateful, almost hopeful kiss. “So, all we have to do is figure out how to get this thing into the jungle before Holden makes his move and ruins our chances.”
“Which means we need to get going.”
“Five more minutes.” I lean my head back against his collarbone and pull his arms tighter around me. “I need a little more of this first.”
Indiana chuckles. “It’s kind of ridiculous, isn’t it? We’re worried that your ex will stop us from blowing ourselves up. Hell of a spring break finale, huh?”
“Well, when you say it like that . . .” I can’t help but laugh at the morbid absurdity. “The only thing better than a memorable entrance is a memorable exit.” But he’s not going to make one. He’s going to slip into the jungle unnoticed, with the rest of the hostages.
I’m going to make sure of that.
I turn to sit facing him, practically in his lap, and we are eye to eye. The position is intimate, but the eye contact is personal. I feel like he can see every thought I have, and for the first time in my life—and maybe the last—I’m willing to let that happen.
When I can’t wait any longer, I lean in and kiss him. Slowly, at first. Gently. But he slides one hand behind my head, deepening the angle, and I give him everything I have. Everything I am.
I might have minutes to live, and I have nothing to lose.
This could be my last kiss.
“You know, we might survive this,” I whisper when I finally pull away.
Indiana leans his forehead against mine. “Then why did that feel more like the end of something than the beginning?”
“Sorry to interrupt,” Domenica says as she drops onto a mat of leaves to my left.
Reluctantly, I start to pull away from Indiana, but he holds on to me until I give in and lay my head on his shoulder, careful to keep space between him and the phone trigger. He’s not ready to let go, and I’m not ready to make him.
“Change your mind about escaping with Holden?” he asks.
“I’m still trying to decide. He doesn’t even know how to get back to the bunkhouse for sure.” Domenica glances over her shoulder at Holden and Penelope, who are now blatantly watching us. “So, what would you need me to do, exactly?”
Indiana lets me go, and I angle myself away from the guards, then lift the tail of my shirt so she can see the explosives tucked into my waistband. Too late, I realize that Pen and Holden can see it too.
Domenica gasps. “What are you going to do with that?”
“Since Pen and Holden won’t help, I’m going to set this off in the jungle, to distract the guards while we blow up the rest of the explosives,” I explain. “There’s another phone in my pocket. I’m going to use it to call the one strapped to C-4.”
“You’re going to blow up those explosives?” She points to the tent. “That’ll kill us all!”
“There’s nothing in there but C-4. No point in blowing that up,” I assure her.
“We figure they’ve made something bigger,” Indiana whispers, “maybe pressure cooker or backpack bombs, and we’re guessing they’re on the beach. But G can’t get into the jungle without a distraction, and I’ve already played the only card I have.” He glances at the pole where Óscar’s guitar no longer hangs.
“So you want me to, what? Make a scene?”
I nod. “Preferably without getting hurt.”
Domenica closes her eyes for a second, as if she’s thinking. Or praying. Then she opens them and nods. “I’m in. When do you want to do this?”
“Yesterday,” Indiana says. “But we’ll have to settle for now.”
MADDIE
The path to some sort of base camp is easy to see from the beach, but we take a route parallel to it, to keep from being seen, stepping carefully in pools of moonlight. About a quarter mile inland, we glimpse torchlight shining through the vegetation. Luke tugs me behind a tall tangle of underbrush, and I scan the base camp between the branches.
“There she is.” Relief eases part of the tension I’ve been carrying for two days. Genesis sits on a grass mat in front of the nearest fire pit, between Indiana and Domenica, with her back to the trail leading to the beach. To the boats that will get us out of here.
Does she know that a means of escape is just a ten-minute hike away? Have they let the hostages leave camp at all?
“I have to talk to her. I have to tell her about the boats.” I turn to Luke. “Any ideas?”
“Well, if we had something to write with—or on—we could wad up a message and throw it at her. Or shoot it to her through a bamboo shoot. Like a spitball.”
“We don’t have anything to write with or on.”
Luke shrugs. “That’s why it was a hypothetical. I’m assuming neither of you knows Morse code?”
“A solid assumption.”
“Well, then, short of just shouting at her, I’m out of ideas.”
“I—” Wait. “You’re a genius. And not just a math genius. Like, a real genius.” I kiss him on the cheek, then stand, but he pulls me back down.
“Do not start shouting. You’ll get us caught.”
“Only one of us,” I tell him.
“No, Maddie, listen to me.” He takes me by both arms and stares right into my eyes in the dark. “I’m a genius. You just said so. And I’m telling you this is a very bad plan. Why don’t we just go make out in our tree hammock again? That was safe, and fun!”
“There’s a tree in this plan too, but you’re going to be in it by yourself. Find one nearby, where you can still see the camp, but won’t be seen.”
“Maddie, no.” Luke crosses his arms over his backpack straps.
“There’s no other way.” I’m talking fast, because I have to do this before I chicken out. Just like with the cliff. “I’ll tell them about the boats, and we’ll make a break for it the first chance we get. You just stay ready and follow us.” I glance at the rifle. “With the gun. Just in case.”
“No!” Luke whispers fiercely. “We’re in this together. We stay together.”
He starts to say something else, but I cut him off with a kiss—the only reliable way I’ve found to shut him up. “Mmmm, see? There’s making out in this plan too.”
“Which means we need to get going.”
“Five more minutes.” I lean my head back against his collarbone and pull his arms tighter around me. “I need a little more of this first.”
Indiana chuckles. “It’s kind of ridiculous, isn’t it? We’re worried that your ex will stop us from blowing ourselves up. Hell of a spring break finale, huh?”
“Well, when you say it like that . . .” I can’t help but laugh at the morbid absurdity. “The only thing better than a memorable entrance is a memorable exit.” But he’s not going to make one. He’s going to slip into the jungle unnoticed, with the rest of the hostages.
I’m going to make sure of that.
I turn to sit facing him, practically in his lap, and we are eye to eye. The position is intimate, but the eye contact is personal. I feel like he can see every thought I have, and for the first time in my life—and maybe the last—I’m willing to let that happen.
When I can’t wait any longer, I lean in and kiss him. Slowly, at first. Gently. But he slides one hand behind my head, deepening the angle, and I give him everything I have. Everything I am.
I might have minutes to live, and I have nothing to lose.
This could be my last kiss.
“You know, we might survive this,” I whisper when I finally pull away.
Indiana leans his forehead against mine. “Then why did that feel more like the end of something than the beginning?”
“Sorry to interrupt,” Domenica says as she drops onto a mat of leaves to my left.
Reluctantly, I start to pull away from Indiana, but he holds on to me until I give in and lay my head on his shoulder, careful to keep space between him and the phone trigger. He’s not ready to let go, and I’m not ready to make him.
“Change your mind about escaping with Holden?” he asks.
“I’m still trying to decide. He doesn’t even know how to get back to the bunkhouse for sure.” Domenica glances over her shoulder at Holden and Penelope, who are now blatantly watching us. “So, what would you need me to do, exactly?”
Indiana lets me go, and I angle myself away from the guards, then lift the tail of my shirt so she can see the explosives tucked into my waistband. Too late, I realize that Pen and Holden can see it too.
Domenica gasps. “What are you going to do with that?”
“Since Pen and Holden won’t help, I’m going to set this off in the jungle, to distract the guards while we blow up the rest of the explosives,” I explain. “There’s another phone in my pocket. I’m going to use it to call the one strapped to C-4.”
“You’re going to blow up those explosives?” She points to the tent. “That’ll kill us all!”
“There’s nothing in there but C-4. No point in blowing that up,” I assure her.
“We figure they’ve made something bigger,” Indiana whispers, “maybe pressure cooker or backpack bombs, and we’re guessing they’re on the beach. But G can’t get into the jungle without a distraction, and I’ve already played the only card I have.” He glances at the pole where Óscar’s guitar no longer hangs.
“So you want me to, what? Make a scene?”
I nod. “Preferably without getting hurt.”
Domenica closes her eyes for a second, as if she’s thinking. Or praying. Then she opens them and nods. “I’m in. When do you want to do this?”
“Yesterday,” Indiana says. “But we’ll have to settle for now.”
MADDIE
The path to some sort of base camp is easy to see from the beach, but we take a route parallel to it, to keep from being seen, stepping carefully in pools of moonlight. About a quarter mile inland, we glimpse torchlight shining through the vegetation. Luke tugs me behind a tall tangle of underbrush, and I scan the base camp between the branches.
“There she is.” Relief eases part of the tension I’ve been carrying for two days. Genesis sits on a grass mat in front of the nearest fire pit, between Indiana and Domenica, with her back to the trail leading to the beach. To the boats that will get us out of here.
Does she know that a means of escape is just a ten-minute hike away? Have they let the hostages leave camp at all?
“I have to talk to her. I have to tell her about the boats.” I turn to Luke. “Any ideas?”
“Well, if we had something to write with—or on—we could wad up a message and throw it at her. Or shoot it to her through a bamboo shoot. Like a spitball.”
“We don’t have anything to write with or on.”
Luke shrugs. “That’s why it was a hypothetical. I’m assuming neither of you knows Morse code?”
“A solid assumption.”
“Well, then, short of just shouting at her, I’m out of ideas.”
“I—” Wait. “You’re a genius. And not just a math genius. Like, a real genius.” I kiss him on the cheek, then stand, but he pulls me back down.
“Do not start shouting. You’ll get us caught.”
“Only one of us,” I tell him.
“No, Maddie, listen to me.” He takes me by both arms and stares right into my eyes in the dark. “I’m a genius. You just said so. And I’m telling you this is a very bad plan. Why don’t we just go make out in our tree hammock again? That was safe, and fun!”
“There’s a tree in this plan too, but you’re going to be in it by yourself. Find one nearby, where you can still see the camp, but won’t be seen.”
“Maddie, no.” Luke crosses his arms over his backpack straps.
“There’s no other way.” I’m talking fast, because I have to do this before I chicken out. Just like with the cliff. “I’ll tell them about the boats, and we’ll make a break for it the first chance we get. You just stay ready and follow us.” I glance at the rifle. “With the gun. Just in case.”
“No!” Luke whispers fiercely. “We’re in this together. We stay together.”
He starts to say something else, but I cut him off with a kiss—the only reliable way I’ve found to shut him up. “Mmmm, see? There’s making out in this plan too.”
