Page 48 of Secret Mission

I’m a hot mess, and no one has time for this. The slosh of saltwater in my gut, the sweeping spotlight from the boat, the humid air weighing around us in the pressing darkness. All of it on top of being sick to death about Truck sacrificing his safety for mine.

“She’s not safe to walk.”

Truck’s brother is scowling at me through the darkness, water splashing around his legs as he moves from the boat toward us.

“I just need a minute…” I shoot a hand out to steady myself by grabbing Justice’s arm. “Hang on.”

Desperation rises up my body, pricking at my throat. “I’m sorry, I know we need to hurry, but I’m not going to be able to stand up. My legs don’t want to work.”

With a rough grumble, Axle stomps over, kicking water on my already soaked pants. “Get on my back.”

My first inclination is to recoil.

His scowl darkens as he motions sharply. “Make it fast, seconds mean the difference between life and death.”

“Sorry.” I scramble onto his back, and he takes a bruising hold on my thigh, getting me adjusted.

Justice shoulders a pack and waves to the boat operator as Axle carries me toward shore. “We’ll be back. Do not leave this spot until we return.”

And then we’re off. Hustling up a riverbank that I wouldn’t be able to climb.

But just like Truck, Axle is really strong.

The boat is parked downriver from where I remember the tangle of trees being, but not far.

The hike is short and intense.

Axle’s body gobbles up the ground with long, angry strides, his muscular back flexing beneath me. The only sounds are hisand Justice’s breathing interspersed with the sounds of the night jungle. Insects, frogs. Things only the other night creatures see.

The path in front of us is lit with red light from their military-looking headlamps. Ominous and eerie.

A wave of emotion threatens my threadbare composure.

Ihavetobestrong.

These men aren’t here to comfort me, their job is to find their teammate and brother.

“Is this it?” Axle asks as he pivots toward the river, shining his light along the mass of logs that twists outward into the water.

The rush of the murky river over the logs—illuminated by red—looks like blood.

Nausea rolls through me. Truck could be in there.

“I think I’m going to be sick.”

Axle drops my feet to the ground, moving away from me as he silently strides over to inspect the disgusting tangled of wood. “Lot of water moving through here. Would be hard for a man to get free.”

The vertigo hits again, folding me to my knees.

My breath turns ragged. My stomach knots, and the first heave hits me.

Ohgod.

“Better to get it all up. You probably swallowed a lot of saltwater.” Justice pulls my hair back. “Try to take some slow breaths.”

I nod and heave again. This time, half the ocean comes out of me.

“He’s not here.” Axle’s voice is distant, but clear.

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