Page 70 of Devlin

“On to the top of the truck,” she said.

“Why?”

“Jesus, Charlie, just do it. Staying here will certainly lead to our death or worse at their hands if we get taken to Congo.”

His face blanched at that, but he turned upward and continued pulling at the metal until it groaned as it peeled away. She climbed up beside him, filling her lungs with the fresh air rushing in.

“Come on! Help me," she hissed, sticking her head through the hole. The truck was on a road similar to the one they’d taken with Jonan through the national park. She placed her arms onto the top, but the metal that had been pulled down caught her pants. Shimmying back down, she said, “We need more room.”

Together, they pushed on the triangle of hanging metal as she warned him to beware of the ragged edge. With it out ofthe way, she repeated her movements and was able to brace her arms on the top of the truck and wiggled her way through the opening with Charlie pushing on her ass and then calves from below. Charlie followed, scrambling up after her.

She emerged onto the top of the truck’s container bed, lying flat for fear of falling off. Scooting to the side just enough for Charlie to follow her to the top, she had no plan. She just knew she needed to get them away from the truck and certain death at the hands of the smugglers.

Still lying flat, she lifted her head to look at their surroundings. She had no idea how much time had passed.

The landscape spread out around them—vast, open, and wild. Rolling golden savanna stretched beneath a blue sky, with white clouds dotting the horizon. Clusters of acacia trees dotted the expanse, their twisted branches silhouetted against the background. In the distance, forest trees grew thicker, and she knew they weren’t far from the water.

The truck rumbled forward, kicking up dust as it barreled along a narrow dirt road cutting through the wilderness. She didn’t care that the air was thick with the heat from the sun bearing down on them. Just being out of the truck prison felt like freedom was at hand.

“What do we do now?” Charlie asked as he snaked along the top to rest near her.

Mia crouched low, gripping the metal for balance. “We need to get to the back end!” She thought he was going to ask why, and she wasn’t sure she could contain her frustration if he did. “We need to get far away from the driver and Enock if he’s in the cab.”

Charlie nodded, his eyes wide. Together, they edged along the container’s top, staying in the middle for fear of being seen by someone in the front of the truck or by the side-view mirrors. Something caught the light, causing a flash of silver, and she realized her lighthouse necklace had fallen from her neckline.Tracer!Oh God… Devlin can find me.She pushed it back down her shirt, shoving the charm underneath her bra strap.

She almost told Charlie about it to give him hope, then stopped herself from speaking. She could no longer trust him. If he thought the information might buy him freedom, he’d be tempted to give her up.

Glancing to the side, she breathed a sigh of relief that he wasn’t looking at her but was working his way toward the back, too. The truck was now near the woods, and she wanted to get away before they came to a stop at the water. At the back edge, she looked down and then immediately felt woozy at the height and the motion of the land beneath the truck. Sucking in a deep breath through her nose, she cleared her mind. With no choice, she opened her eyes again and focused on the back door. There was a handle halfway down and then the metal platform that extended about three feet from the truck’s rear.

“If we can get down there, we can drop the rest of the way,” she said.

“Then what?” Charlie cried, panic in his eyes.

“I don’t know. We run away. Try to get somewhere they can’t find us.”

He nodded. “Devlin will come for you, right? He’ll come?”

“Yes. He’ll come.” She was filled with the knowledge that he would come no matter the time or distance. If she could hide from the smugglers, Devlin would find her. The truck started to slow to make a sharp curve in the road, and she knew it was now or never. “Come on,” she encouraged.

She turned around and let her legs drop over the side as her feet floundered around for the handle.

Charlie grasped her arms. “I’ve got you. Keep going down, and I’ll hold you.”

She hated to put her trust in him but had no choice. She slid a little more over the edge, and true to his word, he held her untilher feet landed on the handle. Now she grasped the bar at the top corner, praying that anyone in the passenger seat wouldn’t see her from their mirror. Shimmying down a little more, her feet hit the bottom platform.

Mia barely had time to suck in a breath before her feet slipped off the truck’s back door. The metal was slick with dust and grime, and gravity took over fast. She braced for impact—then hit the ground hard, knees buckling, palms scraping against loose gravel. Before she had a chance to look up to see where he was, Charlie landed beside her with a grunt, rolling instinctively to absorb the fall.

For one precious second, they just lay there, panting, stunned. The truck rumbled forward a few more feet, then hissed as the driver slowed for the narrow bend in the road. The nearby jungle canopy above left streaks of sunlight filtering through the green. She realized how close they were to the water.

Charlie reached for her hand, his grip tight. “Come on,” he breathed, already moving.

Mia forced her legs to work, shoving down the pain radiating from her knees. They took off, sprinting toward the trees?—

“Stop.” The hard command cut through the air.

29

Mia skidded to a halt and turned slowly with Charlie at her side.

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