We wait for the signal from Viking, and once he’s set, we take off. The ride to the island is sketchy as fuck but doesn’t take long, thankfully. Not that I’d back down or anything, I live for this shit—for the hunt.
I veer off toward the right. I won’t stray too far from the pack, but this direction has a bigger clearing, and besides, I work better with just a few guys versus a cluster. “Watch our six,” I mutter to Charmer, though it’s unnecessary. Diablo, Briar, Charmer, and I have worked together long enough, our roles have become more habitual than anything, and we tend to revert to our designated jobs in sketchy situations.
“I’m not seeing anyone on this side, not even a lookout,” Briar comments as he stands in the back, holding onto the Jeep with one hand and a pair of binoculars with the other.
“All clear back here,” Charmer calls in return.
“Not a fucking thing here either,” Diablo notes, wearing a scowl. His lips are always turned down into a brooding frown. “Malevolent is probably seeing more action watching our bikes than we are out here in bum fuck Egypt.”
Charmer snickers, Briar remains vigilant, and I snort. I’m not arguing with the guy, he’s probably right. We can usually peg a situation quickly. It’s probably what makes us so good at being bounty hunters. “I wonder if it’s this quiet on Viking’s side of the island?” I murmur as the trail grows remarkably tight. We’re battered with thick brush reaching for our flesh inside the Jeep’s open doors for a time before I call it and stop the Jeep. “Jesus, I wasn’t expecting the area to be so dense. It’s a goddamn forest! I guess we’re on foot from here, boys. Climb out through the top.”
“I knew I wore comfortable shoes for a reason.” Charmer points to his shiny black boots with one hell of a rubber sole.
“More tennis shoe than boot, fucking pretty boy,” Diablo ribs.
“Don’t get pissed, big guy, ‘cause your boots are shitkickers and squeeze your fat toes. Maybe you should consider my fashion sense next time.”
Diablo growls in response, causing us all to chuckle.
“Okay, fuckers, get serious,” I order, and we go into stealth mode. You’d never know we were coming unless we wanted you to. We go about exploring quietly. I know they’re still around me because we’re in tune with each other’s sounds. We’ve spent too many years working together not to be able to sense the other.
“Definitely people around here,” Briar mentions after a while. “I’d say under ten, regularly. Maybe five or so. Probably more over time.”
I nod, having picked up on similar clues. Charmer and Diablo close in around us, divulging, “There’s something over here. A small structure of some kind.”
“A house?” I clarify.
Charmer shrugs. “Not sure, it reminded me of an oversized burrow built into the side of a rock. It’s camouflaged well… you wouldn’t notice it if you were walking by and not paying careful attention.”
“Fuck!” Diablo sighs. “There better not be scorpions or some other crawly shit.” His big frame shudders, and my lips twitch in amusement. He’s a hefty mean fucker, but bugs creep his ass out.
“Go with Charmer and check it out. We’ll vet this area to see if there’re any others,” I tell Diablo, and he heads off in the direction Charmer appeared from.
I nod forward to Briar, and he moves in sync with me. “Check the trees,” I order quietly, keeping my gaze pegged around us for people and traps. We move about twenty feet into the thick forest before his strong grip lands on my bicep with a squeeze. Instantly, I halt in my tracks, meeting his gaze. He gestures with a chin lift and points.
There’s a small foot and ankle in sight, but the rest of the owner is hidden behind a massive tree and brush. I catalog the foot—it’s dainty, probably a woman or young boy. The skin is pale and filthy. I sign, telling him I’m checking it out and to stay put. This is my business, so any upfront risks, I take them before these guys. I figure it’s more my responsibility than theirs. Besides, I’d never forgive myself if they were hurt on my watch.
With careful, quiet steps, I creep to the moss-covered tree. I’m standing directly on the opposite side and work to quiet my breathing as well as relax my pounding heartbeat to be able to hear properly. I wait for a second, then another, and again, another. I can’t make out any sounds that aren’t my own, so I meet Briar’s gaze and sign to him that I think the person is dead on the other side.
His gaze widens, but he holds fast, waiting for me to tell him differently. My guys know their willingness to take my directions could mean life or death for any of us, so they trust my orders. Eventually, I chance a look, checking for weapons, and I’m met with creamy skin and tattered clothing. It’s a woman, a young one in rags. Her light blue dress is ripped and tied in several places with vines of some sort. I’m guessing to hold it together on her fragile frame.
I make a noise, hoping to startle her into making a move but get no response. “Miss,” I whisper and wait. Still nothing. I watch her for the longest time and swear I don’t see her chest move. Carefully, I go the rest of the way around and move to touch her. She doesn’t look like she’s been dead long, her face and throat are littered with red and pink splotches. It’s strange. Could it be an island thing that I don’t know about? There’s no telling what’s on the other half of this place. Hopefully, Viking and the others aren’t walking into a trap of some sort.
I kneel at her side, my fingers grazing her wrist. It’s warm, so I’m right about her not being dead long. I can’t catch a heartbeat, so I release her, sitting back to properly take her in. Surely, she can’t be dead if she’s so red and splotchy. Did she get stung by something that causes this reaction, then her death?
I release a tense breath and move to stand, but there’s something about her making me question myself. Perhaps it’s her beauty? Her illusion of innocence? Who knows, but it draws me to try again, whatever it is.
This time I reach for her throat, pushing my fingers to her skin with much more force. I calm my breathing, close my eyes, and concentrate.
Shuffling through my thoughts and feelings, I finally weed out the movement coming from her flesh. There is a pulse. It’s faint, but it is there. Moving on autopilot, I adjust her body until she’s lying flat and tilt her head back. I wave Briar over and begin chest compressions. Depending on how long her body fights me, I may need to trade off with him.
While I count in my head, going through my training to save her life, I can’t help but take her form in. She’s utterly breathtaking. I can only imagine what she must look like in her prime. I wonder what happened to her. There’s no telling—out here so far away from society, it could be anything. I push air into her over and over. Anyone else and I’d have given up at this point. My body burns, even though I work out for hours each day, and I find myself growing slack. Silently, I beg for any god or powerful being out there to give her another chance, to allow me to have a moment with her while she’s at her most vibrant.
My mouth is on hers when she gasps, taking in my breath, with lids fluttering. I meet her cerulean gaze and carefully lie her head in my lap. I silently watch as she gasps for air, her hands clutch at her throat, and the sight makes my chest ache.