Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
Amanda was exhausted. It wasn’t easy being a mother to eight needy girls, while also trying to reassure and comfort the fifteen boys who were still being kept in different tents on the other side of the makeshift camp.
Not that she had much time for mothering of any kind.
During the day, while the boys were being forced to run through crude obstacle courses and shoot at targets in the trees with weapons that were too large and powerful for them to manage, Amanda and the girls were cooking, cleaning, and washing their captors’ clothing.
Everyone was tired and scared and cranky. Amanda made sure the younger girls were given the easier tasks, and that she herself did the bulk of the chores, but as a result, she was on the verge of collapse after just two days.
So far, no men had arrived for any of the girls, but the tension in the air remained thick.
Especially for her. Because every time she turned around, she saw one of the rebels watching her.
And she didn’t like the looks in their eyes.
She wasn’t sure what they were waiting for, but she had a feeling her respite would soon be over.
The last couple of days since arriving at the camp had felt like an eternity.
Her back hurt. Her feet hurt. Her heart hurt at seeing the pain and exhaustion of the children.
She hadn’t been at the school for long, but even in her short time there, she’d been able to make a difference in the children’s lives. At least, she thought she had.
They’d seemed lighter. Had laughed more readily and more often.
Had begun to openly show affection toward her, especially the younger kids.
She made a point to hug everyone as much as she could and to compliment them on every little thing.
The confidence they’d gained was remarkable, and it made Amanda feel as if she was finally making a difference in the world.
And now? They were back to being closed off. Emotionally and physically. They didn’t meet her gaze and their little shoulders were slumped at all times. Amanda felt as if she’d failed, even though none of this was her doing.
She so wanted to steal the kids away in the middle of the night, but that would be impossible.
First of all, she couldn’t exactly sneak away with twenty-three kids, and she wasn’t willing to leave even one behind.
Second, going off into the jungle was stupid.
She wouldn’t survive a day. Some of the older kids, like Joseph, Michael, Andrew, and Natasha, probably knew more about jungle survival than she did, but she wasn’t willing to risk everyone’s lives on that.
Finally, there were too many rebels to even contemplate trying to fight back. And they were all armed. There were around a dozen men constantly watching and guarding them.
But today…something had happened. All morning, their guards were extra chatty. Amanda knew some Spanish and could pick out a few words here and there. Tomorrow, reinforcements were arriving. Supplies. “Husbands” for the girls.
Amanda was almost frantic with worry. She had no idea what to do, but she kept her mouth shut.
There was no point in distressing her kids any more than they were already.
Being taken away from their friends would be traumatic for everyone.
And Amanda dreaded the sun rising on the next day more than she could express.
Her belly hurt so much from the stress, she hadn’t been able to eat more than a few bites of the nasty stew she and the girls had made for dinner.
During the meal, she’d caught Michael’s eye across the hard-packed earth.
He’d given her a small smile, which made her want to cry.
He had a black eye and bruises all over his arms and legs.
All the boys did. They were being treated harshly as they were “trained”…
and yet, with that smile, Michael was still doing what he could to reassure her that he was okay.
He’d apparently been beaten almost to the point of unconsciousness when he’d been taken into the jungle that first day, but he hadn’t let it break him.
He’d also limped for a short while afterward, but either his leg wasn’t injured so badly that it hurt for long…
or he’d refused to give their captors the satisfaction of seeing his pain.
Amanda had never felt as helpless as she did at that moment. She’d wanted to go over and hug the boy—all her boys—letting them know she loved them. But she knew if she’d tried, the second she stood, one of the rebels would have been at her side, pointing his rifle, ordering her to sit back down.
Now, she was back in the girls’ tent, with Sharon under one arm and Patricia under the other.
Michelle held Bibi as she slept, and the other girls were side by side, sleeping as best they could on the hard ground.
They hadn’t been given any blankets—not that they needed them, as it was hot as hell, even at night.
But even that small creature comfort would’ve made their situation seem a bit more humane.
Amanda couldn’t sleep though. Too many thoughts were rolling around in her brain. About what the future held, for her and her kids.
And that lack of sleep was why she heard the faint sound of…something. It was an out-of-place noise, one she hadn’t heard in the jungle before. It took her a moment of listening intently to understand what she thought she was hearing.
A helicopter!
Acting on instinct, she quickly and quietly woke the girls, telling them all to stay silent. Thankfully, they were more than willing to do as she asked, and they all sat in the dark, eyes wide, waiting, listening, praying that the helicopter was there for them.
As outlandish as the thought was, Amanda couldn’t help but hope against hope that it was a rescue. But it could just as easily be more rebels joining the group that had kidnapped them.
Whoever it was, Amanda wanted to be ready.
She had no idea what time it was, just that it was dark, with only the moon to light the area.
There were no sounds of anyone else stirring, and she hoped that was because the men were all still asleep, too used to the various night sounds of the rainforest for their brains to make note that the helicopter was out of place.
Amanda thought about the boys. Had they heard it too?
Or were they too exhausted from all the physical activity they’d been forced to do for the last couple of days?
The need to run over to their tents to see if they were awake was hard to resist, but she stayed where she was, not willing to risk the wrath—or lust—of their captors if they caught her outside the girls’ tent in the middle of the night.
So she waited. Holding her breath. Praying against all odds that the chopper was there for her and the kids.
One moment the sound seemed far off in the distance. The next, it was as if the helicopter was right over their heads. The walls of the tent were even blowing from the rotor wash.
Their captors heard it now too. Of course they did; it was right over top of them. Shouts came from outside the tent, and Amanda held her breath. Not excited shouts, as if they were greeting friends or fellow rebels—but shocked, angry sounds.
It was the sound of gunfire that had Amanda moving, however.
She wasn’t going to be a sitting duck in this tent, waiting for a stray bullet to pierce the canvas.
Or even for the rebels to decide killing their hostages was better than allowing them to be rescued.
And one thing she refused to do was sit back and let someone else do all the work.
If it meant getting out of here, getting all her kids out, she’d do whatever was necessary.
“Hurry, girls, this way!” she whispered urgently, gesturing toward the back side of the tent.
She’d tested it out two days ago, realizing that the bottom wasn’t secured to the ground.
She lifted the canvas and lay down on the ground, peering out into the darkness.
All she saw was trees. Whatever was happening was going on in the clearing on the other side of the tent.
She gestured for Natasha and Patricia to move forward. “Scoot out, but stay by the tent,” she ordered.
Natasha nodded and took Patricia’s hand. Next came Michelle and Jennifer. Then Karen and Sharon. Sandra reached for Bibi’s hand, but the four-year-old refused to take it, instead holding her arms up for Amanda.
As much as it tore her heart out, Amanda shook her head. “Go with Sandra,” she told Bibi as sternly as she could. “I’ll be right behind you.”
She loved that little girl. She was adorable, and sweet, and loving.
She’d been orphaned very recently, after her parents were killed in a motorbike accident.
She was lost and confused when she arrived at the school, but before the kidnapping, she’d slowly begun to open up, attaching herself to Amanda in particular.
Hating that the little girl was experiencing such trauma, that all the kids were, she was right on their heels, slithering out of the tent to join the rest of the girls. She hurried toward where Michelle was standing near the edge of the tent and peered around the corner.
Her eyes widened at what she saw. Men she didn’t recognize—who seemed to be wearing uniforms of some kind, not the shorts and T-shirts most of the rebels wore—were hiding behind trees, shooting at their captors.
She saw several rebels lying motionless in the dirt while the rest fought back almost desperately.
“Head in that direction!”
Amanda let out a screech and jerked at the sound of the accented voice behind her. Spinning around, she saw it was one of the newcomers. A man in a military uniform.
“There’s a clearing about half a kilometer through the trees that way,” he barked. “Take the kids and go!”