Chapter 33
Chapter Thirty-Three
Good news: I didn’t barf. Bad news: Garry did a remarkable job of tying me to the goddamned chair.
Ten seconds after they left, my right foot fell asleep from blood circulation cut-off.
But no worries, I had a plan in place for how to get myself out of this tight situation.
I just needed to get across the room to the desk’s junk drawer that was ajar and get the Swiss Army knife.
Easy peasy. Of course, it was hard to open the blade one-handed, but I’d cross that bridge when I got to it.
Both my wrists were (sort of) loose, so everything was possible.
The main goal was not to tip over.
If I tip over, game over.
With ridiculous body jerking movements, the chair wobbled inch by inch in the correct direction. Hot survival instinct coursed through my bloodstream, and my heart worked harder than a twin-turbo engine. Raw spots developed on my wrists and ankles where the rope rubbed against my skin.
Near the table, halfway through the room, the chair leg caught in the hole in the wood floor.
I jerked harder, but the chair didn’t budge.
I blew my bangs off my sweaty forehead and tried one more time, jolting to the right with furious impatience.
The chair leaned, wobbled, and I flew sideways.
Oh shit. My shoulder smashed the table. The lit lantern at the edge jumped, tilted, fell, and hit the floor, its glass shattering.
The spilled oil ignited. The sheets fell off the table and landed in the oil. Flames licked them, and woosh, they were lit up. And like magic, the flood of fire overtook the raggedy hut.
Fucking fuck.
“Fire!” I yelled. “Fire!”
White smoke rose from under the mattress, and like in a nightmare, red flames crept up the sheets.
I wiggled my legs and arms as much as I could to loosen the grip of the cable, ignoring the painful bites of the coarse fibers.
My right foot freed more, and I pushed off and set the chair upright.
The smoke stung my nostrils, making it hopeless to take a breath.
Frantically yet not to overdo my efforts, I moved the chair inch by inch to the front door.
There was no time to get the Swiss Army knife.
I was one step from hell and had to get out.
“Fire!” I yelled again and broke into a horrible cough. My chest burned as if a hornet’s nest erupted in my ribcage, stinging me within.
I jerked. I wiggled. I used my toes to drag the chair, closer and closer to the door.
The closer I got, the harder I worked. Adrenaline in my bloodstream launched me over the threshold.
My knees hit first, easing the blow to my head.
Scraping my legs and forehead on the porch’s rough wood, I moved to the stairs and tumbled down the steps, pain hitting my body at different angles.
I landed on the dirt path, and the back of the chair fell off. My arms were free. Unable to untie the ropes around my ankles, I used all my anger and jiggled the chair legs until they broke off and the ropes were easy to remove.
My chest felt heavy as if a ton of weight was pressing on it.
Hunter’s IDs and cash were inside. Father’s urn.
I was losing it all over again. Panic snaked through my veins.
I hurtled up the stairs, wanting, needing to rescue it.
At the door, the billowing smoke stopped me, and I staggered back, shielding my face from the hellish heat.
I ran to the kitchen, tripped, got up, then finally reached it and grabbed a bucket.
I scooped water out of the tub we used as a sink and turned to rush back.
“Sydney.” Garry stepped out of the darkness.
“Help me put the fire out.” I tugged on the bucket, spilling half of the water as I carried it, its heavy weight banging my shin.
He grabbed it out of my hand and threw it to the side.
“What the fuck?” I shouted.
“The piece of shit house is gone.”
Smoke rolled out the windows, and red and yellow flames blazed inside the house. His lips pulled into a predatory grin, and it stirred an awful feeling inside of me. He was so obnoxious.
He was alone.
The pulse in my neck hammered to the point of agony.
Garry shouldn’t be back. Something had happened to Hunter.
I stepped back, bumping the shelf with plates and utensils.
My hand went behind me, and I fumbled for the three-pronged spear.
My clammy grip tightened around the shaft, and I wielded it in front of me.
“Why don’t you put that down before you try something stupid?” Garry pulled the side of his shirt up, revealing the gun and an unnecessary piece of hairy belly.
I dropped the tool. “Where are Hunter and Tom?”
“They are none of your concern,” he said slowly and deliberately. I steered around the picnic table to insert some barrier between us.
Garry crept deeper, his eyes narrowed on me. “You look scared.”
Did Hunter and Tom make it to the dug-out? What if it didn’t work? I maneuvered around the table again, my back to the clearing in the jungle that led to the garden. I could bolt and hide somewhere. No. I should run to the trap.
“Why are you here?” My voice was hoarse.
“To save you from the fire.”
I doubted Hunter would send Garry to check on me. He would’ve come himself. We made a full, slow circle around the table. The devilish dancing shadows of roaring fire made him look crazed. We stopped.
I needed to find Hunter, but first, I had to eliminate Garry.
I could take him deep into the jungle or to the shed and somehow hurt him and run.
But that meant we would be alone. In the darkness.
Even farther away from Hunter. Or … I could …
my muscles went rigid, agonizing goosebumps prickling my skin as I thought of the black rocks.
No.
Think of something else.
This was the best idea.
Was it stupid of me?
Yes, but it was a risk I was willing to take.
“I know where more gold is,” I blurted.
Garry cocked his head as if he had misheard me. “What?”
“I found more gold. And diamonds. Lots of it. Hunter doesn’t know. I was going to keep it to myself. Come back and get it later.” My breaths came in quick and shallow.
“Bullshit.”
“I’m serious.”
He jerked his chin. “Why are you telling me this now?”
“Because if you help me get out of here, I’m willing to share half of it.
Tom won’t give you a fair share. He is a lying thief, and I’m an honest nobody who got dragged into this shit show.
Just think about it. Tom thinks he calls all the shots, but it’s only because you let him believe it, but you’re manipulating him to do what you want to do. Am I right?”
I had no idea where all this word vomit was coming from. I was gambling. Garry narrowed his eyes, but the change on his face—the change that all brainless, gullible men show when they gobble up praise and flattery—gave him away. I had him.
“Tom is a fucking idiot.”
Just like you.
“I agree.”
“Nauti Guy is mine. Because Tom sank my Sugar Daddy. He owes me. And I told him Bazza was stealing from us. He didn’t believe me.”
I didn’t give a rat’s ass who Bazza was. “Exactly what I’m talking about.”
“I did all the dirty jobs for that Australian big mouth, and how much respect did he show me?”
All righty, Garry had proven his point that he was upset with Tom. Enough of that. I needed him to ask me to show him the gold. I straightened my posture.
“So, I have your word that you won’t hurt me? We split the money fifty-fifty once we return. Yeah?” I asked. He slowly nodded. “Okay. Can you signal Jack to come back now?”
“No. I’m not an idiot.” Garry bared his teeth in a grin, and I willed myself not to cringe. How could smiling make someone uglier? “You show me where the gold is first,” he said.
And Garry fell into my trap.
“Of course. It makes sense you want to see the proof first. I understand,” I said, grateful it was too dark for him to notice my hands and legs shaking. I wasn’t sure if I could walk. “Follow me.”
A dark, cloudless sky with a light of fading stars was a promise of a calm day, but inside my chest, worry stormed.
We walked out to the beach, and the peering boulders in the bay became recognizable on the inky canvas.
In the distance, the lights of a sailboat bobbed in the water.
For a brief moment I wondered what Jack was doing out there. Why he wasn’t noticing the bonfire.
A breeze tugged on the hairs around my face. Waves lapped the beach but crashed harder around black rocks at the end of the cove. I walked waist-high into the water, then waited for Garry to catch up with me.
Garry stopped at the edge of the water. “Why are you going there?”
“We need to go up there and move through the opening at the top.” I pointed up, even though Garry most likely couldn’t see the crack in the rock wall. “After that, it’s not far.”
I moved deeper and inched around the first big black stone. “You wait here. I’ll go alone and get some gold to prove to you it’s there.”
“No. I’ll go with you.” Garry was knee-deep when he pulled something out of his pocket. A second later, a bright light came on. A cellphone flashlight.
Damn it. He could notice the snakes.
I had no option but to move forward. He followed me, holding his phone. As we slowly trod over the rocks, my blood pounded in my ears, muting the sound of waves beneath. Hunter had better be right about becoming immune to snake venom. Because if not, I was—
A sharp sting burned my ankle. I halted, clenching my jaw to stifle a scream.
“What?” he asked, the light of his phone blinding me. “What’s that face for?”
“I can’t take responsibility,” I said through gritted teeth, “for what my face does when you’re around me.”
Another stabbing pain struck my ankle. We were in the right spot. My legs wobbled, and I grinned.