Chapter 31
Chapter Thirty-One
Hunter and I walked first, and everyone filed after us.
Instead of picking a quicker, straight shot to the bat cave from the kitchen, Hunter led everyone past the garden and the shed, where we turned into the thick screen of the jungle and meandered our way half a mile until the path inclined and soft dirt turned into rock.
Thirty-five minutes later, we approached the majestic tree and stopped at the cave.
Jack struggled to catch his breath. He pulled out an inhaler from his side pocket and puffed on it.
Garry was the least fit among us but showed little exhaustion.
Tom surveyed the area, his eyes stopping at the giant tree. A low whistle passed between his lips. “Look at this huge bastard. A bird shits a seed, and this massive hulk grows here.”
“It’s inside the cave.” Hunter gestured at the dark opening. “You need a flashlight.”
“Did you bring one?” Garry said, wiping sweat off his round face. Hunter shrugged as in sorry, not my problem.
Tom strolled to the cave entrance and stopped where sunlight drew the line next to the darkness and the derby of the freshly broken wall was barely visible.
He peered inside, then edged deeper. The dimness swallowed his body, and he vanished from my view.
His whoop echoed out, and a second later, a scratching sound of bats followed it.
A gunshot went off. Four of us staggered back as a dark, squealing cloud jetted out of the cave.
Jack yanked his gun and sent several rounds at the hundreds of bats flying out in a frenzy.
Hunter pulled me down and enveloped me with his body. I clamped my hands over my ears. The noise ricocheted between faceless stone walls—my only hope was that the bullets wouldn’t do the same.
The noise stopped. Several lifeless, black creatures dotted the ground.
“Who the fuck was shooting?” Tom came out of the cave. Garry inclined his head at Jack. “You could have hit me, you idiot.”
“You shot first,” Jack yelled.
Tom inhaled through his nose, his face turning into disgust. Stuffing the handgun into his shorts, he walked to the opening that led to the drop-off. “What’s that way?”
“A dead end,” Hunter said, helping me to my feet.
“Okay. The cave has tons of shit inside. It’ll take some time to bring it all to the boat. Each of you, grab what you can carry.” Tom gestured at Hunter and me. “You two go first and start dragging things out.”
“Why should we help you?” I said, crossing my arms. “You’re robbing us at gunpoint.”
“I’m not robbing you. He,” Tom pointed at Hunter, “owes me money. I’m taking what is mine.”
“The agreement was that we show you where the treasure is, and you give us a ride to Rarotonga,” Hunter said. “You can come and get it on your own later.”
Tom sucked on his teeth as if trying to get a piece of stuck meat out.
“I changed my mind.” He gave the coldest stare at Hunter.
A lurch of foreboding in my gut was as painful as a snake bite.
“You help us get it all to the beach. We take it to the boat. And once everything is out of here, we take you to Rarotonga.”
“That’s days’ worth of work.” Hunter threw his arm in the direction of the cave. “Those are heavy, and you need more men to carry them. She isn’t strong, and my hand is injured.”
“Do you have a plane to catch?” Tom said. “You’ve spent weeks here. What is another day? Now, move your arses.”
I shuffled inside the cave first, stumbling on the rocks, my eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness. I wrapped my arms around one of the rolled-up tapestries and tugged on it. It probably weighed as much as me, if not more.
With a groan, Hunter and Tom picked up a trunk and immediately dropped it.
Then they tried again. By the time they hauled it out and set it by the tree, they were both out of breath.
This was going to be a very long and miserable day.
So far, nothing had gone according to our plans, and all I could do was wait for Hunter’s signal that we were ready to take them to the trap. Again.
“This will never work,” Hunter said, pressing his hands on his knees. “The chest is too heavy.”
“We unload more of this shit into that.” Tom nodded at the tapestry next to me. “She can pull it.”
“That would damage it,” I said, not hiding my anger.
“Do I look like I care?” Tom glared at me. “Unroll it.”
I hated this guy.
Grabbing the hem of the antique fabric, I unrolled it. My heart squeezed. Soon, its beauty would be lost to the world.
While I dragged the fabric bundle up as a sack filled with heavy monstrance adorned with gems, Hunter and Tom carried a half-empty chest. Garry and Jack took a smaller trunk with silver and gold relics. We stopped several times to catch our breath and let our limbs rest.
When we reached the beach, the sun was at its highest point in the sky, making the air impossibly thick to breathe in. Sweat soaked every fiber in my clothing, and the scrapes burned and itched under my shirt. Leaving things on the dry sand, we marched back to get more.
Hours bled into each other. With only a quick break for lunch of a cold canned soup Jack brought from the boat, we made multiple trips from the cave to the beach until I couldn’t move my feet.
Hunter and I didn’t get a moment alone, so I wasn’t sure of our plan.
It was well after midnight. Tom, Jack, and Hunter went inside the cave to retrieve the last few items, but Garry consistently stayed out to keep an eye on me.
There was something vile in the way he constantly looked at me, the way his eyes slid from my face down to my legs.
The large flashlight on the ground cast the light behind him, making him look like a horrendous beast.
I sank to the ground by the tree, drawing my knees to my chest, and pressing my head to them. I smelled him before I saw him stepping close to me. Garry’s arm was outstretched, the sharp point of the sword inches away from my nose.
“What the fuck.” I recoiled, standing up and pushing my back flat against the tree. My stomach twisted with anger and fear. Garry scraped the sword tip down my neck, over to my chest, stopping in the center of the valley of my breasts.
Hunter’s hand came out of nowhere and gripped the blade. “Don’t,” he said through his clenched teeth. Their eyes locked. If Garry moved a fraction, he would slice Hunter’s hand open. And then both of his hands would be damaged.
Not letting the metal out of his grip, Hunter pushed the sword down, and I slipped out of its reach. When I was far enough away, Hunter uncoiled his fingers and stepped aside. Garry just laughed, throwing the blade on the ground.
I took Hunter’s hand to examine a bleeding cut across his palm, but it was hard to see well. I thought (hoped) the cut wasn’t deep and, in my humble medical opinion, didn’t need stitches, but we needed to bandage it.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” I said, looking up at him. “It’s good that you are up to date on your tetanus vaccination,” I teased.
Hunter wrapped his arm around my shoulder and pulled me to his chest. He buried his face in my hair.
“Sydney,” he whispered. The quiet but urgent way he said my name made my pulse gallop.
“Take off your sandals.” With caution, my legs moved to do what he said, the soles of my feet finding the cold stone under me. “I’ll start a fight. You run.”
I jerked to look at him, a burning sensation developing behind my eyes. “No,” I rasped, my voice creaking, knowing he wouldn’t take no for an answer.
We agreed not to get separated. It was suicidal for Hunter to stay with the three of them. I felt petrified. Tears spilled, and I shook my head.
“Yes.”
“I’m too tired.”
“You can do it.” Hunter took my face in his hands and brushed his lips against mine in a gentle kiss. “I love you,” he whispered. “I’ll be right behind you.”
He smiled, letting go of me, and marched to Garry, his right hand, the good(ish) hand, made into a fist.