Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 68509 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68509 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 343(@200wpm)___ 274(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
We were heading into the wet season for the rainforest. And that always made the mosquito populations pop off.
“Wick,” she called, making me realize she’d fallen a few yards behind.
“What’s up?”
“I can’t. I need a break. I can’t do it.”
It killed her to admit that.
But one look at her—red-faced, sweat-covered, and panting—said she’d probably reached her max a solid hour ago, but had suffered in silence in the hopes of us reaching our destination before she had to tap out.
“Okay,” I said, tamping down my own impatience so my tone was calm. I let out a whistle for Marco, hoping he would just hold still for a bit, then reached in my bag for an emergency instant ice pack.
Cracking it, I reached to place it behind her neck.
A shiver moved through her, and I tried like hell not to notice the way her nipples hardened against the wet material of her shirt.
“You should have left me in the car.”
“You’re doing fine,” I assured her. “I probably should have warned you that Marco kept a punishing pace.”
“How would you know? He doesn’t speak.”
“I’ve worked with him before. And I’m pretty sure he does speak, but just doesn’t want to bullshit with tourists. Or, I imagine, have to be a walking encyclopedia for the rainforest.”
“I guess that’s fair. I just don’t get how he can set such a quick pace when we both have longer legs and are struggling.”
“Just has a body that is more accustomed to this exact exercise. I bet you’d wipe the floor with him in a hand-to-hand situation.”
“Flattery won’t make me forget you have now made me afraid of ants.”
“Noted,” I agreed. “You want to put something in your stomach, or go empty? I tend to get nauseated if I eat when I’m too hot.”
“I can’t believe I’m actually turning down food, but no. I think I’m better sticking to water right now. How far are we?”
“Close. I think. It’s gotta be close. We’ve covered a lot of ground.”
Sure enough, within the next half an hour, Marco was slowing, then waving up at the canopy of trees.
At first, I saw nothing.
Then my gaze landed on it.
“Wait, is that it? It’s real?” Violet asked, following my line of vision to the little pod in the trees.
“No,” I said, feeling months of stress suddenly melting off my shoulders.
“What do you mean no? It’s literally right there.”
“Yeah,” I agreed, taking steps closer. “But there should be more of them. Dozens of them. And one much larger build for the staff to stay in. This… this is just a prototype. They use that to take pictures for the brochures to convince investors,” I said, reaching for my camera to document the evidence I’d been praying to find. “It’s all one big fucking scam.”
Thank God.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Violet
“Well, uh, scam or not… could we maybe go inside of it?”
There was a particularly large ant hanging around our feet. And, sure, maybe it wasn’t one of the ones that wanted to cause searing pain for a full day, but I didn’t exactly want to take that chance either.
“Yeah. I want pictures anyway,” Wick said, snapping a dozen of the outside of the strange, bean-like structure.
It really was shaped like a bean, poking out of the dense trees and foliage. Squat, brown, with full glass windows across the front and solar panels on the roof.
I knew it was supposedly a scam building, but maybe it had water. Or a way to charge my phone.
I really wished I’d gotten a chance to take a picture of the cool little mustached monkey. My cousins would lose their minds over him.
“How do we get to it?” I asked, squinting up at the bean.
Marco, our punishing, silent guide, was sitting a few yards away, peeling an orange he must have had in his pocket—since he’d opted not to have a backpack like Wick and I had.
I never thought I’d crave an orange. But the ones on Isla Perdita were the best I’d ever had. And I was more than a little dehydrated.
“There should be stairs right… there,” Wick said, pushing some thick vines out of the way to reveal a set of warped wooden stairs leading up to the bean.
“Those look… iffy.”
“Definitely not how they looked in the brochures. I’m guessing those were edited to make them look more accessible. You go first.”
“Oh, sure. Make me fall through the shoddy stairs.”
“I was thinking more that if you slip, I can catch you. But if you want—” he said, charging forward.
I was starting to think Wick was getting to know me better than I realized. Because he absolutely knew what to say to make me take the lead.
Up close, the steps weren’t as bad as they appeared. I mean, they were no modern marvels and the treads were warped and slippery in spots, but they didn’t crumble under my feet or anything.