Chapter Five #2
“Fine. I’m fine.” Just so long as he didn’t try to charm me. Or smile at me. Or maybe breathe the air within half a mile of me. Yup, just fine.
“Okay then. Let’s move out but keep as quiet as you can. We don’t want them to know we’re here.”
“Right.” Quiet I could do.
We made our way along the edge of the clearing, the going slow. Diego stayed close to my side, picking his way through the thick underbrush. He seemed to understand the seriousness of the situation. Now he was a male I could depend on.
After we got through the opening, it was smooth sailing. We could still hear the two poachers up ahead of us, crashing along the trail and making little attempt to disguise their passage. The noise they were making masked any sound Ryland or I might make.
Ryland found a deer trail heading in the general direction of the beach and motioned me to follow him. Other than the occasional root or fallen limb, the way was clear of any obstacles.
I stayed a few paces behind Ryland, letting him set the pace. It gave me a chance to observe him without his being aware of it. If I were honest with myself, I’d admit I found the view of his butt more than a little pleasing.
He covered the distance with a long easy stride that was almost mesmerizing. His arms dangled at his sides, the wound not seeming to hinder him all that much. He moved with the effortless grace of a man comfortable with his own body. No excess movement, no awkward motions.
I glanced down at Diego. Just like the mutt, Ryland didn’t seem to stop and wonder if it was possible to do something. He just did it.
* * *
“We should be able to see what’s going on from here.” Ryland motioned me to his side. He lay on his belly at the edge of a cliff overlooking the beach. A slash of underbrush rose from a narrow ledge about two feet down from the top, screening us from anyone below who looked up.
I peered through the thick foliage and spotted my kayak right where I’d left it. That alone was enough to make me happy. I’d fully expected the expensive watercraft to be in pieces. “You’re wrong. They haven’t touched my kayak.”
The Zodiac was still on the beach, and three rough looking men stood around it, casually chatting and smoking.
Farther out in the ocean, past a series of rocks sticking up in the water, a larger ship swayed at anchor.
It must have sailed in after I’d beached the kayak, or I would have seen it when I first arrived.
With a ship that size, the poachers could make their way anywhere up or down the coast before making landfall.
A loud shout came from the main trail. The men on the beach straightened up, dropping their half-smoked cigarettes to the ground and grinding them out with their boots. The two men we’d seen earlier emerged from the bushes, jogging toward their companions.
The largest of the three on the beach, a hefty, olive-skinned guy with a bushy mustache stepped toward them. “No sign of her?”
The sound carried well on the open beach. The poachers obviously weren’t worried about being overheard.
“Nah. But we found a blood trail back by the first shot. Retrieved the arrow. Must have hit a cougar or something. Think we should go see if we can salvage anything?”
“More likely you hit a chipmunk or some other worthless rodent. We’re running tight on schedule as it is. We’re not wasting time looking for some imaginary animal you might have shot.”
“It wasn’t a rodent. Not with that much blood. Unless they grow five-foot chipmunks up here.”
“Whatever. Forget it.” It was obvious the mustached dude was in charge. “You sure you recovered all the arrows?”
“Yeah. Nothing left behind to tie us to this place if the bitch actually manages to make it back to the mainland.”
“Not much chance of that. We holed the kayak under the front and back. She won’t notice unless she flips the damn thing over before launching.
It should make it out far enough that she won’t be able to swim back to shore when it sinks.
The chances of her body washing up anywhere habitable are pretty slim.
She’ll likely turn into a nice dinner for some lucky fish. ”
I gritted my teeth. So much for my kayak having escaped the disaster that was this day. Maybe the holes would be small enough to patch, if the assholes figured the boat could make it that far from land before sinking.
The smirk on the poacher’s face was enough to make me wish I’d brought a rifle with me. I was a fair shot, especially when the target was that big and stood conveniently still while I took aim.
Ryland reached out and covered my hand with his. I looked into his ice-blue eyes and saw sympathy there. “You can replace a boat.”
He was right. It was only a bunch of fiberglass and plastic. I could get another one. Diego and I were safe. That was really all that mattered.
I slanted a glance at the man at my side, and my pulse quickened. I wasn’t used to having someone care about me.
Dumb.
We were stranded on a tiny unmapped island with five international poachers who wanted to kill us. Now probably wasn’t the time to rescind my no-men-in-my-life rule.
Still… my gaze strayed to his wide shoulders… no harm in looking. “You sure they don’t know you’re here?”
He shook his head. “Nope. I’m damn good at what I do, and they never actually saw what they were taking potshots at. I owe those birds my life.”
“You mentioned you had a boat, right?”
He nodded. “I do, if they haven’t come across it yet. I hid it over that way a bit, but it’s down a steep slope. I’m not sure I can make it down with this arm.”
I refused to let him squash my hope. There was a boat. We’d find a way to get to it. My arms were just fine. I started to back away from the edge, but Ryland put a restraining hand on my arm. “I want to keep an eye on them until they’re gone.”
I furrowed my brow. “Why?”
“Mostly to make sure they’re actually gone, but also to see what they take with them.”
“What would they take with them?”
He shrugged. “Maybe nothing. Maybe parts of an animal, or even the whole carcass, although that would be unlikely. Point is, if they do take something with them and I managed to get pictures, it would be proof they’re poachers, not just a bunch of trigger-happy rednecks.”
“Fair enough.” I sank back down to the ground. My priority at this point was survival. Poaching was bad, but death was worse. I draped an arm across Diego’s back and prepared to wait.
The men got right to work. The long-haired one kicked at the sand, exposing a tarp. Grasping the edge of it, he tossed it aside, exposing a cluster of boxes.
“Bingo!” Ryland breathed the word out softly.