Page 121 of Dangerous Mission

For a split second we’re airborne.

A scream tears out of me as the truck hits the ground.

Wham!

Everything comes to a terrifying stop with the most violent bone-rattling jolt I’ve ever felt. Even worse than the plane crash.

Lord, is this the week from hell, or what?

I grunt as my face bounces off the back of the driver’s seat. But I’m surprisingly unscathed.

The truck? I’m not sure.

And him… not so much. There's a gaping wound in the side of his head and he’s making a weird sound.

Gross.My stomach herks.

Before I have time to think about what I’ve done or what might happen now, I scramble out of the back seat and onto the wet leaves that the truck has trampled into the earth.

A shiver wracks my body and I look down. Reality sets in. I’m naked as the day I was born. No shoes either.Nothing.

Reaching back into the truck, I fish around until my hand lands on something fabric. Okay not fabric. Mesh or something.

For one single second, I’m seriously bummed.Oh, come on.It’s a mesh vest—the reflective kind when someone’s working on the side of the highway.

But it’s more than I had before.

After shoving my arms through the gigantic garment, I dare peek in through the window of the truck at the driver. His eyes are open, he’s blinking. Looking into the forest that is now lit by the wayward headlights.

My first thought is—maybe I should hit him again…

Think, Aria.Think.

You need to figure your way out of this. If you can get him out of the truck, you can take it back to the farm.

And surely the guys left the satellite phone in here, I can call for help.

But that means I need to get rid of drunk-breath first.

Fudge. This sucks.

I shiver again, the reflective vest doing nothing to keep the rain off of my skin. And while it’s tropical, it feels like I could get hypothermia.

As I’m wracking my brain, I climb over some small downed trees and make my way to the back of the truck. There’s tons of gear in there if it’s like the other truck.If I can get it open.

Given that my hands are still bound—I need to deal with that too—I squeeze the flashlight between my naked thighs and try to open the latch on the back of the truck.

Ugh! Why can’t anything be unlocked when I need it to be?

I guess I’ll just have to knock the glass out of this too?—

What was that noise?

I swing around and jolt. Drunk-breath-guy is leering at me. He literally looks like a zombie. One of his eyes is bulging. His teeth are broken. He’s covered in specks of something and rivulets of blood.

Good grief. Whatever is wrong with him did not come from the Mag Light Special. Dude must not have had his seatbelt on. Come to think of it, I didn’t see an airbag, but I don’t have time to think about that.

He makes a noise. Clearly not too messed up to growl-snort like a bull that’s about to charge. And it’s all the warning I get before he leaps at me, bloody hands outstretched, having zero problems with his legs.

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