Jungle Land
Author: Eric Walters
Date: 2016-09-20 07:00:00+00:00
Description: DJ is always thrilled to spend time with his grandfather, a person he idolizes. When his grandfather announces that he's going to take all of his grandsons on individual adventures, it seems only fair that DJ, as the oldest grandchild, will get his adventure first. An adventure that sees his grandfather at the controls of a small plane as the two fly to Central America for a week. But when someone tries to kidnap him, DJ must flee through the jungle and down a crocodile-infested river, pursued by armed gunmen. When he isn't busy trying to stay alive, DJ discovers things about himself he never
Publisher: Orca Book Publishers

PRAISE FOR BETWEEN HEAVEN AND EARTH FROM SEVEN (THE SERIES)

“Richly detailed and satisfying.” —Kirkus Reviews

“A fantastic story that will capture the attention of young readers and keep them engaged until the last page…Highly Recommended.” —CM Magazine

“Strikingly realistic.”

—YALSA YA Galley Teen Review

PRAISE FOR SLEEPER FROM THE SEVEN SEQUELS

“Flashy, quick and fun.” —Quill & Quire

“A fast-paced, enjoyable entrée to this mystery/adventure series.” —Kirkus Reviews

“The setting is vibrant, and the thrills are a mile-a-minute…Highly Recommended.” —CM Magazine

JUNGLE
LAND

ERIC WALTERS

ORCA BOOK PUBLISHERS

Copyright © 2016 Eric Walters

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system now known or to be invented, without permission in writing from the publisher.

Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication

Walters, Eric, 1957–, author
Jungle land / Eric Walters.
(The seven prequels)

Issued in print and electronic formats.
ISBN 978-1-4598-1149-2 (paperback).—ISBN 978-1-4598-1150-8 (pdf).—ISBN 978-1-4598-1151-5 (epub)

I. Title.
PS8595.A598J86 2016 jC813'.54 C2016-900477-5
C2016-900478-3

First published in the United States, 2016
Library of Congress Control Number: 2016933649

Summary: In this middle-grade novel, DJ travels with his grandfather to Central America and ends up hunted by armed gunmen.

Orca Book Publishers is dedicated to preserving the environment and has printed this book on Forest Stewardship Council® certified paper.

Orca Book Publishers gratefully acknowledges the support for its publishing programs provided by the following agencies: the Government of Canada through the Canada Book Fund and the Canada Council for the Arts, and the Province of British Columbia through the BC Arts Council and the Book Publishing Tax Credit.

Design by Teresa Bubela
Cover photography by iStock.com
Author photo by Sofia Kinachtchouk

ORCA BOOK PUBLISHERS
www.orcabook.com

19 18 17 16 • 4 3 2 1

For Tampa—gone but not forgotten

Contents

ONE

TWO

THREE

FOUR

FIVE

SIX

SEVEN

EIGHT

NINE

TEN

ELEVEN

TWELVE

THIRTEEN

FOURTEEN

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

ONE

I startled, and my head jerked up. I was suddenly fully awake, surrounded by blue sky and a few fluffy white clouds, sitting in the copilot seat of an airplane. On the sound system was Frank Sinatra—doing it “his way.”

“Did you have a nice nap, DJ?” my grandfather asked.

“I just sort of drifted off…sorry.”

“That’s okay. I fell asleep myself for a bit.”

I gasped. “You did!”

He chuckled, and I realized he was joking.

“Of course, this baby is equipped with autopilot, so I guess I could drift off for a while and we’d be none the worse for wear,” he said.

“Still, I should have stayed awake to keep you company.”

“It’s a long flight, and I think the purring of the engines can lull you to sleep,” he said.

“Yeah, it’s very, um, restful.”

What I didn’t say was that I was unnerved by yesterday’s flight—which had been very bumpy—and I hadn’t gotten too much sleep last night. We’d been in the air for most of yesterday, stopping first in Jacksonville, Florida, and then flying on to Cancun, Mexico, where we’d spent the night. We’d left Cancun early, and we’d been in the air now for almost five hours. It was a long way to Central America from Ontario.

The little orange motion-sickness pill I took every time I flew didn’t help me stay awake. Despite the many times I’d been in the air with my grandfather, I still felt sick to my stomach every time. He didn’t know I got airsick. He didn’t know I took medication every time I flew with him. Only my mother knew. I thought my grandfather would be disappointed in me if he knew. My mother said he’d understand, but she still kept my secret.

My grandfather loved flying—probably even more than I hated it. And because I loved being with him, I didn’t want him to know how I really felt about flying. I must have been a pretty good actor, because he didn’t seem to.

“There’s not much to see out there right now,” Grandpa said.

I looked out and down. Beneath us was the Pacific Ocean, glistening in the bright sunlight. I looked all around, trying to find a hint of land, but there was nothing on the horizon. That, of course, meant there was no place to land if there was an emergency. Thank goodness for twin engines.

“I guess I should just take it as a compliment that you have such faith in my flying that you can go to sleep,” he said.

“You know I have complete faith in you!” I said.

That was no lie. My grandpa wasn’t just my grandpa. He wasn’t just somebody I loved. He was somebody I really, really liked and looked up to.

He had been flying for over fifty years. He had flown combat missions in the war and had piloted little planes around the world before he settled down to run a successful import/export business. Of course, that had put him in the air all the time, and my mother told us stories about how much he was gone while she and her sisters were little.

He’d had only daughters—four of them—and those daughters had had only sons—six of us. My mother joked that we were the sons he’d never had. And I guess he was sort of the father I’d lost.

Grandpa owned his own plane. It was a four-seat, single-engine Cessna. Although it had a range of a thousand kilometers, he used it mainly for short flights—just for going for a spin, as he put it. I’d been up for dozens and dozens of spins. Logically, I knew that he was a great pilot and that the Cessna was one of the safest, most reliable planes in the world. Still, even the safest, most reliable planes with the best pilots did crash.

He’d borrowed a Piper Chieftain from a friend for this trip. It was a lot bigger than Grandpa’s own plane and could seat eight people. It also had two engines. The odds of both engines on a plane dying were really, really small. I knew because I’d looked it up.

I thought my grandfather would have been happier in his Cessna, but he had arranged to use this plane because it had more range, and we were going a long way. This time we weren’t just going for a spin. We were going on what he called a real flight.

Flying all the way to Central America was more flight than I wanted, but it was all part of the adventure. This was much, much more than a flight. This was a special adventure my grandpa had arranged just for me and him. He had decided he was going to take each of his grandsons on a trip.

Originally, it was going to happen when each of us turned sixteen, but Grandpa had decided that he was getting too old to wait that long. So here I was, not quite thirteen, the oldest of the grandsons, and the first to go on one of the adventures.

“This is perfect weather,” he said. “The sky is clear and the flying flat.”

That was his way of saying that we hadn’t been bumped or jostled. I was grateful. I hated turbulence, and we’d had nothing but turbulence the day before.

“I know it’s going to worry your mother that we’ll be out of cell-phone range when we land and won’t be able to contact her,” Grandpa said.

“She worries.”

He chuckled. “She does worry, there’s no question about that. I was afraid she was going to be too worried to allow us this little adventure.”

“She worries about me going to the store,” I said.

“I guess I understand. I still worry about my girls even though they’re grown-ups with kids of their own.”

Grandpa had raised his “girls” by himself. His wife, my grandmother, had died when the girls were young, and he’d had to care for them by himself. Maybe that was why he had been there so much after my father died—he knew how hard it was to be a single parent.

His being around was probably why Grandpa was so much more than a grandpa to us. He was there all the time at games and school concerts and graduations. I liked that a lot. He was there for all the grandchildren, but I think maybe even more for me and my twin brother, Steve.

And while I’d never say this out loud, especially to Steve, I thought maybe I was his favorite of all the grandkids. After all, I was the first grandchild, and I was the one named after him—David. DJ was just a family nickname that was shorthand for David Junior. And I thought maybe Steve was starting to realize as well that I was Grandpa’s favourite.

I was the older twin brother—by fifteen minutes. I couldn’t believe how much of a difference those fifteen minutes made between us.

Since technically I was the oldest, I was the first grandson to go on the trip. I knew Steve was mad about my going before him. Not that he had to say it. Twins naturally understand a lot of what the other is thinking or feeling without having to use words. So I could read him and he could read me. That we had in common. But not much more. At least, not now. It wasn’t always that way.

My mother and I sometimes talked about it. She thought some of it had to do with the death of our father. When she first talked to me about that, I felt like she thought it was because Steve loved our dad more or missed him more than we did. But she helped me to understand that that wasn’t what she meant. Dad’s death had hit us all hard, but it had seemed to hit us differently. We all got sad, but then Steve got angry.

He seemed to look for a reason to get annoyed or angry, to throw something or take offense. I think he would have objected to a dish of ice cream if it wasn’t his idea to have one. Me, I just felt like I had to grow up faster. Mom needed help because Dad wasn’t there anymore, and somebody had to help.

And then the strangest thing happened. I got bigger. Not just bigger, like getting older, but bigger physically than Steve. So much bigger that people started to think I was a lot more than fifteen minutes older than him—more like a year or even two years older. I guess I could understand him being annoyed about it, but it wasn’t like it was my fault, and it wasn’t even like he was that small. He was twelve and looked like a twelve-year-old. People thought I was fourteen. Steve said I acted like I was forty.

Grandpa was going to take all six of his grandchildren on these special trips, and he had to start somewhere, so why not start with the oldest—even if I was only the oldest by fifteen minutes? He’d already told Steve he was going to be second, and I assumed Bunny would be the last because he was the youngest. It was funny how Steve seemed resentful that I was going away first but actually didn’t seem that excited about going himself. That was so Steve.

“There it is on the horizon,” Grandpa said.

I looked forward over the nose of the plane and saw a line of green on the horizon, and behind that some browns and grays rising into the sky.

“That’s Central America?” I asked.

“That it is. Some people think it’s as close to the Garden of Eden as you can get.”

“And what do you think?”

“I think that wherever your family is, is the best place in the world.”

That made me smile inside.

He was always saying things like that, and I knew he meant it. Grandpa always seemed to know the right thing to say—not just to me, but to everybody. He once told me that the world was filled with mainly two types of people: friends and friends that I hadn’t met yet. Being out with him meant continually running into people he knew or talking to people he didn’t. I liked that. He was so comfortable around people, and when I was with him I felt the same way.

“I need you to take the wheel for a minute,” Grandpa said.

Before I could think to object, he pulled off his headset, got up and squeezed between the seats. I grabbed the yoke—the control device on an airplane—with both hands and held the plane steady. I knew he could have simply put it on autopilot—and I wished he had—but this was his way of showing faith in me. It was pretty cool to be a twelve-year-old who was actually flying a plane, and I was glad he trusted me, but it still was a bit scary.

Not that I’d flown much, but I had spent a lot of time “flying” a flight simulator. Grandpa thought I did it because I wanted to be a pilot. But really, I wanted to know as much about flying as I could possibly know just in case I had to actually fly someday.

He came back and settled into his seat again, but he didn’t take the yoke right away. He slipped his headphones back on.

“It’s going to be great to see Juan again,” Grandpa said.

“How long has it been?”

“It’s been much longer than it should have been. Decades. We used to do business together.”

“What sort of things did you import and export from Central America?”

“All sorts of things. It’s a wonderful part of the world. You’ll soon see.”

“Will your friend meet us at the airport?”

“In a manner of speaking. The airport is his home.”

“He lives at the airport?”

Grandpa laughed. “His property has an airstrip.”

“Wow, that must be some property.”

“His house is very impressive. I just hope the runway is in good shape.”

“Why wouldn’t it be?” I asked, suddenly feeling uneasy.

“I don’t think it’s used that much these days, but no worries—I’ve landed there many times before,” Grandpa said.

“You have?”

“We did our shipping by air. Of course, that was a long, long time ago.”

We made the coast, and beneath us the blue of the ocean was replaced by the houses and streets of a small city. We were so low that I could make out individual houses, cars and even people. There was a big open field, and on that patch of green a soccer game was going on.

“Pull the nose up a bit. We need to gain some elevation to get over the mountains,” Grandpa said.

I pulled back on the yoke, and we started to climb.

“How much farther do we have to go?” I asked.

“Less than twenty minutes. I guess I should take back the controls.” He put his hand on the yoke, and I removed mine.

I looked out my window. Soon the city was replaced by a carpet of green. I couldn’t see any houses or roads or anything—wait, there was a little line of blue, a river, just peeking out through the trees off to the right.

“There’s not much down there,” I said.

“Actually, there is a lot right beneath us. This jungle has the greatest biodiversity of any place on the planet.”

“Biodiversity?”

“It is home to almost 500,000 different species, of which 300,000 are insects. There are over 1,200 types of butterflies and 8,000 species of moths. There are animal species found no place else in the world. It is home to almost 900 species of birds, including hummingbirds and the scarlet macaw, which is perhaps the most colorful and beautiful bird in the world.”

“I’d like to see some of those.”

“Juan will definitely take us for a tour of the jungle around his property.”

“That would be great. But what I meant by nothing being down there was that I don’t see any towns or even a road.”

“That’s because there aren’t any roads. That city we just passed over is the nearest civilization and is about forty kilometers downstream from my friend’s property. His place is completely surrounded by jungle. Juan has always liked his privacy.”

“So flying in is the only way?”

“You could hike in, and the river is big enough for small boats. And there, on the horizon, is his house.”

I rose slightly in my seat, scanning the jungle until I located the house. Even from this height and distance, it was obvious that it was big.

Grandpa banked the plane so we would pass to the left of the house. It got bigger as we got closer. It was massive. Not just big, but tall and ornate. It had three towers that made it look like a castle.

The property itself was huge too. I could tell where it started because it was surrounded by a wall that separated the green of the jungle from the green of the grounds.

“If there’s nobody around, why does your friend need a fence?” I asked.

“There are other things to keep out. There are over twenty species of venomous snakes, as well as jaguars in the jungle and caimans in the river just over to the one side.”

I saw a few glimpses of blue showing through the green canopy of the jungle.

“What’s a caiman?” I asked.

“It’s sort of like a more vicious version of an alligator.”

“I thought alligators were pretty vicious.”

“They are, but caimans are worse. They seem to enjoy killing. Sometimes they kill things they don’t even eat. Not that jaguars are any better,” he said. “You’ve seen trained lions and tigers in circus acts, right?”

“On TV.”

“You’ll never see a trained-jaguar act. They are solitary killers with the most powerful jaws in the feline family. They can crush bone with their bite.”

“I hope that fence is high,” I said.

“It’s as high as it needs to be. I’m going to bank now to bring us in line with the runway for landing.”

I looked harder. I still didn’t see a runway. Wait, there was a little strip of brown just outside the wall and off to one side. “Is that the runway?”

“That’s it.”

“It doesn’t look that big…or long.”

“Width is no problem, but it should be twenty-five hundred feet long,” Grandpa said.

I shook my head. “It doesn’t look that long.”

“It isn’t. It should be twenty-five hundred feet long ideally, but I think we have about fifteen hundred.”

“But you’ve landed here before, right?” I asked anxiously.

“Dozens of times. Of course, I was usually in something smaller than this plane. But no worries—I just have to be more precise in my incline, approach closer to stalling speed and hit the brakes hard when we touch down.”

He completed the bank and flattened out so that we were coming in directly in line with the slash of brown. It didn’t look wide, and it was dotted with splotches of blue that I assumed to be rainwater gathered in depressions.

I looked over at Grandpa. Usually he was all conversation and jokes. Now he was completely focused on the dials on the board and the strip ahead of us. We were coming in very low, and it felt like we were just crawling along. But the brown was coming up quickly, and we were just skimming along the tops of the trees—and then we dropped. We hit the runway and bounced slightly back into the air before settling down again. We were on the ground, but we were bumping along and the trees at the end of the runway looked like they were coming toward us much too fast—and then we came to a stop.

Grandpa turned off the engine, and we both pulled off our headsets. I felt a rush of relief.

“That was some landing,” I said.

“You know what they say.”

“I know—any landing you can walk away from is a good one,” I said.

And then three men came out of the jungle and rushed toward the plane, with rifles aimed right at us!

TWO

The three men spread out. One stood directly in front of us while the other two went to either side. All three still held their guns aimed right at the plane—and us.

“Stay calm,” Grandpa said.

“I think I’m too nervous to be scared.”

He laughed, and that made me smile almost against my will. “Just follow me, and no sudden movements.”

One of the men yelled out something in what had to be Spanish, and I didn’t understand what he was saying.

Grandpa moved between the seats to get to where the door was located in the back. I unclicked my seat belt and followed him. He lowered the door to where two of the men were now waiting. They barked out what sounded like either a threat or an order. Grandpa raised his hands, and I did the same. Then Grandpa started talking—in Spanish!

“Señor McLean?” one of them asked.

“Sí, soy Señor McLean. Señor DeCarlo, por favor,” Grandpa said.

I only knew a few words of Spanish but recognized the names of my grandpa and his friend.

Grandpa climbed down the first few steps, and I could see the two men more clearly. They had not only lowered their guns but slung them over their shoulders, and they were smiling.

Grandpa turned to me. “These are Juan’s guards. They are here to escort us onto the grounds.”

“And that’s why they were pointing their guns at us?” I asked.

“We were making sure you were…um… Señor DeCarlo’s guests,” one of the men said with a strong Spanish accent.

“I’m sure Juan appreciates your care, and I certainly appreciate your welcome,” Grandpa said.

“Come,” one of the guards said. “My compadres will get luggage.”

He led the way, and we fell in beside him. My grandpa had his cane in his hands. It was made of dark wood, with two carved elephants on the handle. He had had it from when he flew planes in Africa—decades before I was even born. That cane, along with the black beret he almost always wore, were almost part of him.

As we walked, Grandpa and the guard started talking in Spanish. I hadn’t even known Grandpa spoke Spanish, but he seemed to be pretty good at it. Despite my not understanding a word they were saying, I could tell my grandpa was being his usual self—charming, friendly, a smile on his face—and he gave the guard a slap on the back. The guard was smiling and laughing, and they sounded like old friends as they talked. Even though I couldn’t understand the words, I could see it was a friendly exchange.

We walked with the jungle pressing in on us on one side and the wall of the compound on the other. The wall was incredibly high—more than three times my height—and it was topped with strands of barbed wire. I could picture how that wall protected us from the jaguars I was sure lurked just beyond the trees.

We came up to a massive metal gate. Above it, written in curved wrought iron, were the words Jungle Land. The big gate swung open and another guard, rifle strapped to his back, waved us in. My grandpa greeted him in Spanish, and he replied with words, a big smile and a handshake. Another friend was made.

“Straight ahead,” our escort said. “I will go back to help with luggage.”

We really didn’t need any directions. The house—the mansion—was at the end of a long walkway. The house was even more massive and impressive on the ground than it had looked from the air. It felt like we were in a movie.

“I didn’t know you could speak Spanish,” I said.

“I traveled down here for business a lot, mainly before you were born, and you pick up a few words here and there. So I speak a little bit.”

“It sounds like you know a lot more than a bit.”

“You’d be surprised how a few well-chosen phrases and a smile make people willing to overlook what you don’t know.”

The grounds we were walking through were amazing. Manicured grass and groomed flower beds filled with exotic flowers, their colors mirrored in reflective pools and ponds punctuated by little waterfalls and fountains. The garden was as cultivated and tamed as the jungle outside was wild and dangerous.

“Your friend must be rich,” I said.

“There’s money to be made in the import/export business, although things are much less expensive down here…and there’s my friend right now!”

A man was at the top of the stairs. He was dressed all in white and took off his brimmed hat and waved it in the air.

“Davie!” he yelled. “Davie!”

My grandpa went up the stairs, and the two men greeted each other with a handshake and then a big hug. They were talking in Spanish—I could tell Grandpa knew more than simply a few words. He was just being modest.

“This is my dear friend Juan,” Grandpa said to me.

“I am so pleased to meet you!” he exclaimed. He took my hand and then, instead of shaking it, pulled me into a big hug, squeezing me tightly before releasing me.

“It’s good to meet you, sir.”

“I am so honored to have you and your grandfather, my good friend, join us. Please come. Mi casa es su casa. That means my house is your house,” Juan said.

He led us back up the stairs and through an enormous door leading into an even more enormous entrance area. The ceiling was ornate, painted in golds and silvers and blues and reds. I felt more like I was in a church or a hotel or a museum than in a house.

“Before we go on a tour of the grounds, I thought you might be in need of refreshment.”

“I’m so hungry I could eat a capybara,” my grandpa said. He turned to me. “That’s the world’s largest rodent.”

“And one not native to this part of Central America,” Juan said. “Instead we will have to settle for a more traditional dish of our country.”

“You wouldn’t be talking about casado by any chance, would you?” Grandpa asked.

Juan smiled. “But of course. Come. We will eat, and I will introduce you to a very important person.”

We followed him out to the patio, and I wondered who this important person could be. A big table was set with all sorts of fancy glasses and linen napkins and plates and silver. Sitting at the table was a girl. She looked to be around my age or a little bit older. She had dark hair and was wearing a fancy dress, as if she was going to a party or a wedding. Or maybe she was the bride at that wedding.

“Gentleman, I want you to meet my granddaughter, Alejandra.”

“Buenas tardes, señorita,” my grandpa said as he took her hand and bowed slightly from the waist.

She smiled and nodded shyly in reply.

My grandpa and Alejandra exchanged a few words in Spanish, and then Juan joined in the conversation. I stood there helpless, unable to add to or even understand the conversation. She looked directly at me, and her eyes were so dark it felt like she was looking through me. I looked down at the ground.

“Um, hola,” I said, using one of the few Spanish words I knew.

“Hola,” she said.

“I thought it would be good for your grandson DJ to have somebody closer to his own age to spend time with,” Juan said, “so I arranged to have my dear Alejandra join us.”

A grandson would have been a better choice, but really, what did it matter? I was here to spend time with my grandpa anyway.

“In fact, I’m going to leave you two alone to talk while I speak privately to Davie.”

“I thought we were going to eat,” I said. “I mean…I can wait.”

“No need to wait. You will start with dessert.”

Juan picked up a little bell and rang it, and almost instantly a woman appeared carrying a tray that held two very large bowls of chocolate ice cream.

“My favorite!” I exclaimed.

“Davie told me, so I had a full tub shipped in for your pleasure. So, Berta,” he said to the woman, “make sure they get a second or even a third helping.” She smiled and nodded.

“Leave a little space for the casado,” my grandpa said.

“There will be time for casado,” Juan said. “Just enjoy the ice cream and pura vida.”

“Yes, pura vida,” my grandpa said. “That means pure life. We’ll be back soon.”

I sat down at the table across from Alejandra. She was already digging into the ice cream. I dug in with my spoon as well. We could share ice cream, but I didn’t speak any Spanish, so there wasn’t much else we were going to share. I took a few more mouthfuls of ice cream and then looked up to see her watching me. She didn’t look happy. I had to say something or at least try to say something.

“It’s really good,” I said. I spoke loud and slowly, but she didn’t seem to understand. I strained my mind to come up with a little bit of Spanish. “Mucho goodo.”

She looked up. “Mucho goodo?”

“Um…I’m sorry…I just don’t know much Spanish. Une petite.”

“Une petite? That would be French, not Spanish,” she said.

“You speak French—wait, you speak English?”

“I speak English and Spanish and some French. And you?”

“You’ve heard my Spanish, and I speak some French—we learn it in school—but my English is pretty good.”

“People who speak English often only speak one language,” she said.

“You spoke to my grandpa, so you know he speaks some Spanish.”

“He speaks very good Spanish. Maybe he could teach his grandson.”

“Maybe you could teach me some too.”

She shrugged. “I could try. It’s not like we’re going to be doing much out here. No Internet, no cell phone, not even television.”

“I guess we are pretty far into the jungle,” I said.

“Not that far. We could have them all, but my abuelo does not want them here.”

I laughed.

“You think that is funny?” she demanded, and her dark eyes flashed.

“No, it’s just that that’s the way it is at my grandpa’s cottage too. He has a no-electronics rule. I just don’t know how somebody could live that way all the time.”

“It is not all the time. This is my abuelo’s weekend home.”

I gasped. “This is just for the weekends?”

“Sí, for weekends and for holidays. His regular home is much bigger, much fancier.”

I shook my head in disbelief. “I’ve never, ever seen anything this fancy or big.”

“There are many rich people in my country. And, of course, many, many more who are poor. That is why there are high walls to protect us.”

“I thought that was to keep the jaguars and caimans and snakes out.”

Alejandra laughed, and I felt like she was laughing at me. “The most dangerous animals are people who have little and want more. That is why there are walls and guards with guns.”

“I’ve never had a gun pointed at me before,” I said.

She looked confused and concerned.

“Your grandfather’s guards aimed their guns at us when we landed,” I explained.

“Oh, maybe they thought you were a jaguar,” she said and smirked.

I shook my head slightly. Was my entire week going to be spent with some difficult girl? Wait—what were we going to do?

“We’re not going to be just hanging around here for a week, are we?” I asked.

“A week of just sitting here with you?” she said. “I certainly hope not.”

“You’re not the only one who—”

Grandpa and Juan reappeared, and I stopped myself from saying anything more. It didn’t matter if I had to spend time with Alejandra as long as I also got to spend time with my grandpa.

THREE

I woke to the sound of singing birds and bright light, and for a few seconds I struggled to remember where I was. I heard voices outside, jumped out of bed and walked through the open door and onto the balcony. Below on the patio sat my grandpa and Juan. They were having a lively discussion in Spanish, and it was pretty clear that my grandpa’s “bit of Spanish” was a lot more than that.

My grandpa looked up at me and waved.

“Good morning, DJ!”

“Buenos días,” Juan called out.

“You should get dressed, come down and have some breakfast, and then you’ll start off on your little adventure for the day,” my grandpa said.

I ran back inside, threw on some clothes and hurried down the stairs and out onto the patio. Alejandra had arrived in the few minutes it took me to get dressed. She greeted me with a scowl and then went back to eating. I took a seat, and instantly a plate filled with fresh fruit, eggs and sausage was put down in front of me by one of the servants.

I was hungry and started digging in. “So, what’s the adventure?” I asked between mouthfuls.

My grandpa gestured to Juan.

“I’ve arranged for you to go on a little hike to a waterfall,” Juan said.

“How far a hike?” Alejandra asked.

“The waterfall is no more than a dozen kilometers from here,” Juan explained.

“So it’s almost twenty-five kilometers in total,” she said.

“That’s pretty far,” I said. I wasn’t thinking about me but about my—

“Juan and I won’t be coming,” my grandpa said, reading my thoughts or my expression or something. He always seemed to be able to do that with people.

“So it’s just me and—and—her?”

“Along with three of my men,” Juan added. “They will guide you and carry your supplies.”

“And protect us from jaguars?” I asked.

“It is always wise to have protection.”

“Can’t we just go part of the way?” Alejandra asked.

“At the end of the trail is the most beautiful waterfall in all of Central America.”

“That’s a long way to go for a waterfall,” I said.

“It will be worth it,” Grandpa said. “Besides, along the way you will experience the beauty of the birds and plants of the rainforest. I wish I could go with you, but it’s just too far for me.”

“I understand, I guess. What are you going to be doing while we’re gone?” I asked.

“While you are having a new adventure, my good friend and I will spend the day sitting on the patio, in the shade, drinking lemonade and talking about old adventures,” Grandpa said.

“So are there any objections?” Juan asked.

I waited for Alejandra to argue. Instead, she gave her grandfather a slight nod and a friendly smile. Not what I was expecting.

* * *

The path through the jungle was clearly marked but was far from easy. It was probably good that my grandpa hadn’t come. Our escorts were the three men who had met us at the plane. Their leader—who I’d learned was called Francesco—was in front, a small pack on his back and a rifle strapped to his shoulder. Alejandra followed, I was behind her, and the two other guards took up the rear. In addition to their rifles they both had large packs on their backs.

Alejandra hadn’t spoken more than a few words to me in the hour we’d been walking. Her only conversations had been with Francesco, and they had been in Spanish. If she hadn’t spoken English to me the day before, I wouldn’t have known that she even knew English.

Even if she didn’t want to talk to me—maybe because she didn’t want to be with me—I was still enjoying our hike. The jungle was lush and dense and green and pressed in closely on both sides. In many places it overhung the path, and it felt like we were walking through a green tunnel—a tunnel often plugged by growth that sealed off the path itself. Francesco had a machete, and sometimes he had to hack through vines to open it up again to allow us to pass.

There were flies and insects and butterflies and birds everywhere. Some of the birds were beautiful—streaks of color appearing and disappearing in the trees. There were continual squawks and howls coming from the forest, and a couple of times branches moved, indicating monkeys so high up in the trees that they were invisible from the ground. And, of course, there were other things I couldn’t see that I assumed were close at hand. How many poisonous snakes had been almost underfoot? How many jaguars had been only a layer of brush away? Thank goodness for the three men with guns.

“Pretty beautiful, isn’t it,” Alejandra stated.

I was startled that she’d spoken. “It is. Could I ask you a question?”

She shrugged. “Sure, I guess.”

“If you didn’t want to be here so much, why did you agree to come?”

“My grandfather asked.”

“You could have said no,” I said.

“I do not know anybody who says no to my grandfather. He is a very important person in our country. Could you have said no to your grandpa?”

“I didn’t want to say no. I really like being around him. He’s, well, cool.”

“You think your grandpa is cool?”

“Yeah, I do. He’s a pilot and a war hero and he’s lived all around the world and—”

“Fine!” she snapped, cutting me off. “Your grandpa is cool. It’s too bad that his grandson isn’t!”

“So are you mad at me or your grandfather?”

She shook her head, and her angry expression faded. “I love my grandfather. It is because of you that I had to come here, so it is you I am mad at. Are you not angry that you have to be here with me?”

“Not angry so much as annoyed. I was supposed to spend this time with my grandpa, not some girl who hates me.”

“I do not hate you. I just hate being here in the jungle, away from my friends and my phone and from the things I like to do.”

“If you could do anything instead of being here, what would you want to do?” I asked.

“I’d be by the ocean. I’d be swimming, sunning, surfing and snorkeling.”

“Maybe that’s what’s planned for us,” I said.

“If it was, wouldn’t you think we’d be staying somewhere closer to the ocean?” she asked.

“It’s not that far. I’ll ask my grandpa to fly us to the ocean tomorrow. I’ve always thought it would be pretty cool to try surfing.”

“You’ve never surfed?”

“Never.”

“I have surfed since I was five,” she said. There was that look again. It was a combination of disdain and pity.

“Have you ever downhill skied?” I asked.

“Of course not. There is no snow here.”

“And there’s no surf where I come from. But tell you what. You teach me to surf, and I’ll teach you to ski.”

“Are you inviting me to come to your country?” she asked.

“Well…sure…if you’d like.”

“I am not sure my boyfriend would be pleased with your asking me to go on a vacation with you.”

I didn’t know what to say.

“He is older. Much older. He is almost sixteen.” She smiled. “Then again, what he does not know will not harm him. Perhaps I could come to your country someday. Deal?” she said and offered me her hand.

“Deal,” I said as we shook hands.

* * *

I pulled myself up onto the ledge. Alejandra was already standing there, the waterfall cascading down beside her, as she looked over the edge and down into the pool of water where we’d just been swimming. Slowly, carefully, I got to my feet. My knees were all gooey. It didn’t matter whether you were in an airplane or on a ledge—heights were still heights. Maybe this was worse. You couldn’t fall off an airplane. You could close your eyes, sit back and trust the pilot to get you back down. That hadn’t been the case on the climb up to this ledge, and the climb down was going to be even worse. But I guessed this could have been worse too—we were far, far from the top of the waterfall that extended way, way above our heads.

“It’s pretty far down,” Alejandra said.

“I believe you.”

“You do not have to believe me. Come and see for yourself, unless you are afraid.”

“I’m not afraid,” I lied.

I inched forward until I could just peer over the edge to the pool of water below—far below. My legs were quivering, and I leaned away. Why was I doing this? Why had I ever let her convince me to climb up here to begin with?

“I think we should do it,” she said.

“Do what?” I asked.

“Jump.”

“What?”

“Jump. I think we should jump.”

“Are you crazy?” I demanded.

“I am not loco. This ledge is not that high—”

“It’s not that low. It’s got to be six meters.”

“I think higher. We were just swimming there, so we know the water is deep enough and without rocks.”

“I’ll give you that much.”

“Besides, it’s not like we’re going to dive. We’ll jump feet first…unless you want to dive.”

“No!” I exclaimed.

“Good, then we’ll jump, if that’s what you want.”

That wasn’t what I wanted at all!

“Do not be afraid. We will go together.”

“Together?”

“At the same time.” She reached out and took my hand.

I should have turned away. I should have backed away. I should have started back down the way we’d come up, but I didn’t. I felt even more anxious, although I wasn’t sure if it had more to do with holding her hand than with standing on a ledge, getting ready to jump into a pool of water far below.

“We will go on the count of three, okay?” she asked.

“Okay.”

“One…two—”

“Wait!” I exclaimed. She looked disappointed.

“I’d like to do the counting,” I said. “Uno… dos…tres!”

We stepped forward and jumped into the air, out and away from the rocks, both of us screaming, and then we went down, down, down, splashed on the surface and plunged below. My eyes opened and I looked up to the surface, now high above our heads. For a split second we settled, not sinking and not rising, and then the remaining air in our lungs started pulling us up.

I released her hand and used both of mine to swim, crawling my way to the surface. Bursting free, I took a deep breath. The air was so amazing, so refreshing. We’d done it. Wait until I told Steve about this! He always said I was too careful and didn’t like to take chances. Careful had nothing to do with this.

The three guards, who were standing at the edge of the pool, cheered and whooped and yelled out things in Spanish that I couldn’t understand but still understood.

“That was amazing!” Alejandra exclaimed.

“It was pretty amazing,” I said. My heart was pounding, and I was just so grateful to have lived through it and—

“Do you want to do it again?” she asked.

“No!” I yelled.

“I was hoping you would say that.”

“You were?” I asked.

“Almost as much as I had hoped you would say no to the first time. You know that was a little bit loco. You are a bad influence on me.”

“I’m a bad influence on you?”

She laughed and swam away toward the edge of the pool. I swam after her.

FOUR

The walk back to Jungle Land seemed longer than the walk to the falls, although I knew that wasn’t possible. I guess it just seemed that way because we were tired, it was hotter, and maybe I was feeling a bit worn down after the rush of our plunge into the pool. I still didn’t believe I’d done that—that we’d done that.

We’d agreed we were not going to tell our grandfathers what we’d done, and the guards had agreed to keep it a secret. At least, they’d agreed after Alejandra talked to them. She basically explained to them that she thought her grandfather would be angry at them for letting us jump, so it was in their best interests to say nothing. I was quickly learning that she was somebody who generally got what she wanted, one way or another.

“It’s pretty strange to have armed guards escorting us,” I said.

“You get used to it after a while.”

“So this happens every time you come out here, I guess.”

“Yes, but it is not just here. We have guards at our house and when we go out.”

“You do?”

“Many people in our country have guards to make sure they are not kidnapped,” she said.

“Kidnapped? Seriously?”

“It is a problem in our country. People with little money kidnap other people, especially children of families that have money and influence.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“They hold them for ransom. Sometimes the children are captives for weeks or even months while the money is being raised.”

“Wow, that’s so hard to believe.”

“That doesn’t happen in your country?”

“Never. I’ve never heard of anybody who was kidnapped for ransom.”

“I know of a few from my school alone. That is the reason for all the armed guards.”

“I don’t even know of anybody with guards, except maybe political leaders.”

“We have that here too. Oh, by the way, my grandfather’s father—my great-grandfather—was the president of our country.”

“That’s incredible!”

“My mother has told me stories about when she was little and her grandfather would simply walk into banks and take out money,” Alejandra said.

“Um, isn’t that where most of us get our money?” I asked.

“You do not understand. It was not his money. He could simply take money out of any bank whenever he wanted. He was el presidente.”

“Okay, our leaders can’t do that.”

“Of course, that was in the olden days. Back then the president wasn’t elected. My great-grandfather was the head of the army and could do whatever he wanted because of that. Now we are a democracy.”

“That’s good to know.” Up ahead I caught sight of the wall of the compound. “We’re almost home.”

“Excellent. I want a cool drink in the shade of the patio.”

“That sounds good.”

“Do you see your grandfather’s airplane?” Alejandra asked.

I let my eyes follow the wall to the far end of the runway. I couldn’t see the plane anywhere.

“Maybe they went up for a spin,” I suggested. “My grandpa loves to fly.”

I was a bit sad that he wasn’t around. I wished I could tell him about our walk and the waterfall. I didn’t like to keep things from him and was considering telling him about our leap and swearing him to secrecy. I knew he’d keep it a secret if I asked him to.

“My grandfather does not like airplanes,” Alejandra said. “That is why he often takes the route up the river and through the jungle in an ATV.”

“I didn’t know taking an ATV was possible.”

“It is possible but difficult. My grandfather likes it that way. If it is hard to get in, then it is hard for people out there to cause trouble.”

“You have a gigantic wall topped with razor wire and armed guards. How much trouble could anybody cause?”

“You would be surprised what trouble can be caused.”

We came up to the gate, and the three guards who had been our escorts waved goodbye and continued to walk. I watched them leave and felt a bit exposed. Almost on cue the gate slid open and we went inside. I no longer felt so exposed.

“I’m looking forward to that lemonade,” I said.

We walked along the path, through the incredible gardens and then up the stairs and into the house. Alejandra called out a greeting, which just echoed back at us. The house seemed strangely empty.

“I wonder where everybody is,” Alejandra said.

“Maybe they went up with my grandpa. His plane has eight seats.”

“There are more staff than that and—”

Berta, the woman who had served us breakfast, came out of the house. She rushed over and grabbed Alejandra and wrapped her in a big hug, talking rapidly in Spanish. I couldn’t understand the words, but I knew she was upset, almost on the verge of tears.

“What happened?” I demanded. “What’s wrong?”

Alejandra spoke quietly to Berta, as if she was consoling her. Then she turned to me. “There was an emergency.”

“What sort of an emergency?” I had the worst thought imaginable.

“It is not your grandpa or my grandfather. It was one of the staff, one of the maids. She had a high fever, and they thought she had a ruptured appendix. She had to be flown to the hospital.”

“And that’s why my grandpa isn’t here.” I felt an instant sense of relief.

“Yes, but I do not know why my grandfather went with him. As I told you, he hates flying.”

“Probably he wanted to make sure his staff member was okay,” I said.

“That would make sense. He is a kind person.”

She turned back to Berta and spoke to her in Spanish. Berta answered and nodded her head in agreement.

“My grandfather wanted to be sure that she was fine, but there were also some other complications. It might mean that we have to put off whatever plans we had for tomorrow.”

“Or they might be back soon enough for the plans to still happen,” I suggested.

“If she needs more complicated medical care than she can get at the local hospital, they will have to fly her farther away. If they are not back tonight before dark, then they will not be back until tomorrow, possibly longer if she needs to be flown to a hospital in a bigger city. They cannot return once it is dark, as there are no lights on the landing strip.”

I hadn’t thought of that, but of course she was right. It was pretty bumpy and short even when it was light enough to see. Landing in the dark would be incredibly dangerous.

Berta spoke again, this time in broken English. “Senor Juan…he had a surprise for…for this night for you and DJ, but without him it will not happen.”

“But we are still here and it is for us, so it should happen!” Alejandra exclaimed. “I love surprises.”

I didn’t have any doubts about that. I figured she not only liked to be surprised but was an expert at surprising people.

“At least we should have something to amuse us tonight,” Alejandra said. “Can it happen?” she asked Berta.

Berta replied with a smile and a shrug of her shoulders that was really no answer at all.

FIVE

The setting sun had signaled the fact that they weren’t returning that night, and suddenly I felt incredibly tired. It was more than just the hike and the excitement. Probably my body was trying to make up for the lost and disturbed sleep on the days flying down. I was sorry my grandpa wasn’t there but grateful that I didn’t have to fly again right away. I wasn’t looking forward to taking off from that little runway and didn’t want to do it more times than I had to.

We ate in relative silence. It wasn’t that Alejandra was giving me the silent treatment again so much as that she looked as tired as I felt. I finished up the last spoonful of my ice cream, stood up and said, “I’m going to go to bed.”

“What?”

“I’m tired. I’m going to go to sleep.”

“And what will I do?” she asked.

“You could watch television or—” I stopped myself. I’d forgotten that there was no television or Internet or even phone service. “Maybe you should go to bed too.”

“I do not want to go to bed. Could you stay up and keep me company? Maybe we could play a game or just talk?” Her voice was all sweet and kind, and she smiled at me.

I was going to argue, but really, there wasn’t much point. One way or another, she was probably going to get her way eventually, so there really wasn’t much point in fighting. Besides, I felt that I should be a good guest, and it was nice that she was being so friendly.

“Sure, I’ll stay up a bit longer,” I said.

She jumped up and threw her arms around me and gave me a kiss on the cheek. I was so shocked, I didn’t know what to say or do, but I felt my face getting all red. This was so embarrassing…and sort of neat.

* * *

A few minutes became an hour, and that hour became another and another and another. We played cards, she taught me some Spanish words, and then we took a walk in the gardens. There were thousands of stars in the sky, and a full moon gave off so much light that we could easily see our way among the pools and fountains. The air was thick with the smell of flowers and flowering trees.

All the time we walked, I kept thinking about reaching out and taking her hand. I’d never done that before with a girl, but I couldn’t get that thought out of my head. Would it be so bad or wrong? She was my age, and she was really pretty, and she had hugged me and kissed me on the cheek, but she did have a boyfriend who was much older. But he wasn’t here. I could have done it, but I didn’t.

In my head I could hear Steve laughing at me, saying I was afraid to take a chance. And I guessed he was right for once.

Jumping from that ledge at the waterfall was scary, but it would be much scarier to take her hand here in the gardens. What if she pulled away or said something harsh or was offended? Even scarier, though, what if she actually let me hold her hand?

We climbed up the stairs and went back into the house. It looked like everybody had already turned in for the night, as it was now dark and silent except for the sound of our steps echoing off the walls and high ceilings. It was a little eerie, like being in a haunted mansion.

“Here, take my hand,” Alejandra said.

“What?”

“Take my hand.”

She reached back and grabbed my hand, doing what I’d been thinking about. Obviously, she’d been thinking about it too.

“I will lead you so that you will not bump into anything. I know the way even in the dark.”

“Sure, thanks.” Okay, maybe not the reason I’d hoped for, but still, I was holding a girl’s hand in the dark in a mysterious mansion. That’s the way I’d be telling the story to my brother when I got home.

The farther we got from the front doors and windows, and the stars and moon, the darker it got. I was grateful for her leading.

“Couldn’t we just turn on a light or two?” I asked.

“I am not clear why it was done so early in the evening, but I am certain that they turned off the generator, so the lights will not work. We do not need light. Don’t worry. I can get you to your room.”

Slowly we moved forward, Alejandra leading me along by the hand. We started up the stairs, and I put my other hand on the banister to steady my steps.

“It is a little bit scary, no?” Alejandra asked.

“Not really,” I lied. Even if I wasn’t feeling brave, I wanted her to think I was.

She led me down the hall, stopping in front of my room.

“Here it is,” she said. “Do you need me to tuck you in for the night?”

“I think I’m okay from here.”

She released my hand, and I had the strangest thought. What if I gave her a kiss goodnight? I’d never kissed a girl. Up until a few months ago I’d never even thought about kissing a girl. But standing here in the dark, having spent the day with her, having held her hand, well, what if I tried to kiss her?

“Good night, DJ,” she said. She reached over and gave me a kiss on one cheek and then on the other.

“Um…yeah…good night.”

I opened the door slightly and then watched as she started off down the hall to her room. I was going to tell Steve that we’d kissed—twice. That was true. I just wasn’t going to tell him it was on each of my cheeks. And then I heard the explosions.

SIX

“What is that?” I said as I rushed down the hall toward Alejandra and she rushed back toward me.

“It is guns, people are firing guns. Maybe they are setting off bombs.”

“Come on, really, what is it?”

“I know what guns sound like. What else do you think it could be?” she asked.

I didn’t have any alternative theory. “But why would people be firing guns?”

“It can only be for bad reasons.”

“What sort of bad reasons?”

“There is no time to explain. Just come with me.”

Once again she grabbed my hand, but this time, instead of leading me, she dragged me down the hall.

“Where are we going?”

“To a safe room.”

“What’s a safe room?”

“Is that not obvious? It is a room that’s safe. Stop asking questions and be silent.”

I stopped talking, but the gunfire outside continued—it actually sounded louder, or closer than before. But wait—a safe room? Was that someplace we’d be safe from gunfire? But wouldn’t the guards and the compound walls and the walls of the house keep us safe?

Alejandra stopped and let go of my hand. “It is here somewhere,” she said.

“Somewhere? You don’t know where it is?”

There was another loud explosion. In my mind I pictured the perimeter wall around the compound being shattered, and I realized why we needed a safe room. Those bullets weren’t just going to be outside the compound—that’s why we were looking for a safe place. But my mind was spinning. How could one room be that much safer than another, and how come she couldn’t find the room she was looking for? It wasn’t like it could be hidden.

“Here it is,” Alejandra said.

Suddenly a piece of the wall slid sideways to reveal a door.

I gasped. “It’s a hidden room!”

“That is what a safe room is. I just need more light to open it. If only we had a flashlight.”

“I do have a flashlight!” I exclaimed. I pulled my phone out of my pocket. It was useless as a phone out here, but I did have a flashlight app. I tapped the button, and the space was bathed in light. What it revealed shocked me. The door we were standing in front of was metal, and in the middle, instead of a door knob, was a number pad and a big handle.

“It looks like a safe,” I stammered.

“Again—what part of safe room do you not understand?” she snapped.

“I guess all of it.”

She tapped some numbers that beeped as she touched them, and then the door clicked and she pulled it open. I aimed my flashlight into the opening. I was relieved to see that it was a room with chairs, not at all like the inside of a safe.

I suddenly realized that the noise outside had stopped.

“Listen,” I said. “Do you hear that? It’s stopped. We’re safe now.”

“It has stopped, but that does not mean we are safe. It might mean that they have overpowered the guards and are now in the house looking for us. We have to get inside.”

I didn’t need another invitation. I went inside, and she quickly slid the outer panel back into place, followed me into the room and then pulled the metal door shut with a slam, sealing us in. We were now safe—although I didn’t feel safe. Instead, I felt trapped.

A bright light came on, and I shielded my eyes for a second.

“At least the generator is back on,” I said.

“Not the generator. This room has its own batteries that can operate for up to a week if they are used wisely.”

“Thank goodness we won’t need to be in here that long.”

“Hopefully, it will not be necessary,” she said.

“We can’t be in here that long. We need food and water.”

“We have enough food and water to last for a week.”

“But why would we need that amount of food or water unless we had to…” I let the sentence trail off as the answer became obvious. That much was in here because that much might be needed.

“We are a long way from help. It could take days and days for a rescue party to reach us,” she said.

I suddenly realized there was one more thing I needed. “Is there a washroom?”

“You need to bathe?”

“No, I mean a toilet.”

“Through that door,” she said.

I went inside, fumbled around and found a light switch. A neon light in the ceiling flickered and then came to life, revealing a toilet and a sink. I pulled the door closed and went to the sink. I didn’t need to use the toilet, but I did want to do something else.

I turned on a tap and splashed water onto my face. It felt good, refreshing, but it didn’t change the awful feeling in the pit of my stomach. Panic. I let the water run over my wrists and tried to calm down and make sense of everything that was happening.

Okay, here I was with Alejandra, sealed inside a safe room, behind a big metal door, hiding because there might be armed men out there breaking in to kidnap us. Maybe I had pretty good reason to panic. I turned off the water and took a deep breath before heading back out.

Alejandra was looking at a big screen. For a split second I thought she was watching TV. Then I realized it was a monitor, and there were a dozen little squares showing different parts of the house and gardens. They all showed dark and gray and grainy images.

“Look! There’s somebody!” I said, pointing to one of the screens. There were five shadowy figures, and they all looked like they were carrying rifles. They disappeared from view.

I was going to ask where that camera was aimed when I got the answer—there were little labels under each screen, and that one said patio superior. I thought that meant upper patio. Spanish was hard to speak, but I’d noticed that many words were similar in English.

“Do you know who they are? Are they our guards?”

“I could not tell, but even if I could tell, it does not matter,” she said.

“How can that not matter?” I demanded.

“Many kidnappings are done with inside help.”

“You mean it could be the guards who were protecting us who might now be trying to kidnap us?”

“In many cases it could be.”

“Then why didn’t they just kidnap us when we were on our hike?”

“It could be just one of them is helping the intruders. It is no matter as long as we stay inside this room.”

“Maybe whoever attacked was driven away and we’re safe now,” I suggested.

“First, there is no driving away from here. Second, if they have left, why have the staff not turned the generator back on? Why are the grounds still in the dark?”

There was a loud pounding on the door, and I jumped and Alejandra screamed. Thank goodness it wasn’t me who screamed. The pounding continued, and I could make out voices but couldn’t hear what was being said through the thick metal door. Alejandra looked as scared as I felt. We didn’t know who was out there, but they certainly seemed to know we were in here.

SEVEN

Then there was silence. The pounding had stopped. No voices, no sounds, could be heard. I thought they’d gone away…but then there was a quiet beeping. Whoever was out there was working the keypad to try to get in! That was even worse than the pounding.

“Who knows the combination to the door?” I whispered.

“Only my grandfather…and maybe Berta… but she’s been with the family forever. She wouldn’t be part of harming me…us. She would not tell anybody the combination.”

“What if she was being forced to open it?”

Alejandra looked even more uneasy, more scared. I hadn’t meant to scare her any more than she already was, but what if I was right?

“We have to leave,” Alejandra said.

“Leave? You want to open the door for them?”

“No, there is an emergency way out that nobody knows about except members of my family.”

She went to the far corner of the room. Against the wall was a bookshelf.

“It is here. I just have to remember how to open it.”

“Open the bookshelf?” I asked as she fumbled with it.

Was it like the sliding wall in the hall leading to the safe room?

Suddenly the bookshelf moved to the side. Behind it was an opening and a set of steep spiral stairs.

“You go first,” she said.

“Me? I don’t know the way!”

“Down. The way is down the stairs. Go, and I will slide the shelf back to hide our escape route.”

“Okay, sure, that makes sense.”

The stairs were metal, tight and circular, and they disappeared into darkness, so I couldn’t see the bottom. I started down the first few steps and then stopped and waited for Alejandra. Looking back up the stairs, I saw the bookshelf slide shut, blocking the entrance and blocking off the light. We were thrown into darkness! I reached into my pocket, scrabbled to remove my phone and clicked the flashlight app again, giving us light.

“Thank you,” Alejandra said. “Keep going down.”

The flashlight revealed the way. Still, I couldn’t see all the way to the bottom. The light reflected off the white stone walls that framed the stairs. They were plain and rough. Around and around we went, until finally I reached the bottom. I aimed my flashlight around the area. It was a small room, cupboards on one wall and a metal door on the far wall. There was no furniture and no toilet that I could see.

Alejandra was soon at my side.

“Are we going to wait here?” I asked.

“We cannot wait. If they get into the safe room, it will be no time before they find the way to get down here.”

“So where do we go?”

“Let me have your phone, your flashlight.”

I handed it to her, and she used the light to open up one of the cabinets. Inside were backpacks. She pulled one out and handed it to me, then grabbed a second for herself.

“There should be a flashlight in there,” she said.

I opened up the bag and started pulling things out. There was a jacket, a hat with mosquito netting, some energy bars, an aluminum space blanket. And there was the flashlight. I pulled it out, turned it on and aimed it back inside the backpack.

I gasped. “There’s a gun!”

“There should be one in each pack.”

“Is it loaded?”

“It would not be of value if it was empty. Have you ever fired a gun?”

“I’ve never even held one.”

“It is simple. Later, when we have time, I will show you.”

“Look, it might be better if you don’t show me and it just stays in the pack.”

“That would not be useful.” Alejandra clicked on the flashlight she’d removed from her pack and handed me back my phone. “We must leave.”

“Going where?” I asked.

“Just follow.”

Quickly I put the things back in my pack, piling stuff on top of the gun but leaving the flashlight out and on. I slung the pack over one shoulder. It wasn’t heavy, but it was unnerving to think there was a gun in there.

Alejandra opened up another door. Her flashlight lit the way ahead. It was a narrow passage with a low ceiling. It looked less like a corridor and more like a tunnel. She went in and I followed, ducking my head. The ceiling was too low for me to stand up, and I moved through the corridor all hunched over. The air was chilly, and there were puddles on the floor that we sloshed through. This was going from bad to worse.

The tunnel ended in yet another door. There was a big padlock on it. We weren’t going any farther. Going back would be the only way—or I guessed we could just wait in the tunnel.

Alejandra turned off her flashlight and put it down. “Aim your light on the padlock,” she said.

I watched as she turned the padlock over. There was a key taped to the back of it. She peeled off the key and inserted it in the lock, which clicked open. She removed the lock.

“You need to turn off your flashlight now too,” she said.

“But if I do, how will we see?”

“We will not see, but we cannot risk being seen. Do as I have asked.”

Reluctantly I turned it off, and we were thrown into complete darkness. I kept my finger right on the switch, ready to flick it back on. There was a creaking sound, and I realized it was the door being pushed open. I felt a rush of warmer air, and there was a little bit of light. Not much, but enough to make out shadows and different shades of black.

I saw Alejandra move forward, and I followed. I bumped into something and it fell over, making a loud clanking sound.

“Be careful!” she hissed. “We cannot let them know we are here.”

“Where is here?”

“A toolshed on the outside of the compound.”

“We’re outside the compound!” I exclaimed.

“Quiet!” she hissed.

“We shouldn’t be out here.”

“We have no choice.”

“Yes, we do. We can go back to the safe room.”

“They know we are in there. Sooner or later, they will break in.”

“We could stay in the second room, down below,” I suggested.

“Once they are in the safe room, they will find the passage. That will not be safe either.”

“Then what’s to stop them from walking through the tunnel and finding us here?” I asked.

“Nothing. They will come here eventually.”

“So how is this safer?”

“It is safer because we will not be staying here.”

“So where are we going?” I whispered.

“Out into the jungle.”

EIGHT

“We can’t go out into the jungle!” I hissed.

“We cannot go back and we cannot stay here, so what other choice is there?” she asked.

I didn’t have an answer, just questions. “So we’re going to hide in the jungle?”

“Not hide. We are going to go through the jungle.”

“Through the jungle to where?”

“Back to the city.”

“That’s forty kilometers away. You think we can walk forty kilometers through the jungle?” I demanded.

“We will not walk that far. We will walk to the river and then boat down the river to the city. It is not hard. People do that all the time.”

“Have you ever done it?”

She shrugged. “No, but I know the way to the river. I have been there many times. Then we just go downstream. My grandfather keeps a few little boats with motors there by the river. We’ll take one of those. We simply follow the river. It is not difficult.”

My head was spinning. None of this was simple. All of it was dangerous.

“Look, if it’s too dangerous to stay here, then how much more dangerous is it to be out there without even walls to protect us?”

“We are safer because they believe we are inside. They would not even think to look for us out on the trail,” she said.

That almost made sense.

“I understand getting out of the mansion, but how about if we just find a place to hide by the runway? Our grandfathers will be back before dark tomorrow or the day after that.”

“That is why we have to leave now,” she said. “If they land, they will be taken prisoner instead of us.”

I hadn’t even thought of that.

“If we start now, we could be at the river in less than an hour, and we could be in the city by tomorrow in the afternoon to warn them not to fly into a trap,” she said.

Instead of our grandfathers rescuing us, it looked like we had to rescue them.

“Let’s go,” I said.

Alejandra opened the toolshed door and peeked out. She motioned for me to follow, and we stepped out. Instantly it was lighter, but that full moon and the millions of stars I’d been admiring an hour before were now our enemies. I felt so exposed, so visible. Anybody looking in this direction could see us. I just had to hope she was right and that every eye was looking for us inside the compound, not outside the wall.

“Do you smell the gunfire?” she asked.

“Yes.” It was a familiar smell, like fireworks. I guess that made sense because they both used gunpowder.

The toolshed was right beside the wall. The tunnel had taken us outside the compound, but just barely. I looked up at the top of the wall but couldn’t see anything or anybody. It was deserted and dark. I couldn’t see any light being thrown up above the compound wall, so I had to assume the generator still wasn’t on.

We pressed close to the wall. Its shadow helped hide us. But why were we just standing there? Shouldn’t we start going?

“Which way do we go?” I asked.

“I am not sure.”

I gasped. “What?”

“I do not know how to get to the path to the river.”

“But you think you can lead us to the city?”

“Once I find the path.”

I looked all around, trying to orient myself and figure out where exactly we were, but all I knew was that we were outside the compound.

“It is close to the front gate,” she said.

It could only be one of two ways. We’d just follow along the wall until we figured it out. “Let’s go this way,” I suggested.

I reached back and took her hand, and we started along the wall, which, as far as I could see, was intact. I’d expected to see big sections blown away. Maybe there were some of those but they were on the other side of the compound.

We came up to the first corner, and I stopped and peered around. I was disappointed—and relieved—that I didn’t see the gate. I had noticed that the jungle on that side of the compound was much, much farther away. I thought I knew where we were.

“The runway is over to that side.” I gestured. “That means the gate is just around the next corner of the wall. Can you get to the path now?”

Instead of answering, she started to lead me. She angled us out toward the open expanse of the runway. Away from the wall, I felt even more exposed. She led, and I looked and listened. The only sound I could hear was our feet moving through the field. It seemed loud, and I wondered how far away we could be heard.

The end of the runway was past the corner of the wall of the compound. The gate was just down that way and—some men came out of the compound! I knocked Alejandra down and then fell on top of her.

“What are you—”

“Quiet. Men,” I whispered. “They just came out of the gate.”

“We need to get into the cover of the jungle before they see us.”

“Don’t move and they won’t see us.”

“No, we need to—”

“Shut up,” I hissed in her ear.

I put my head down but kept my eyes on the three men. They had turned in our direction and were walking toward us. They were still far away, but they were closing the distance. Had I made the wrong decision? Should we have run into the jungle? If we were caught, it was because I’d made the wrong decision. The only thing worse than being captured would be hearing her tell me that it was all my fault.

Closer and closer they came. I could hear them talking, although I couldn’t hear what they were saying and I wouldn’t have understood it anyway. I couldn’t see their faces, but I could see that all of them were carrying rifles. If I could see them so clearly, how could they not see us? Maybe it wasn’t too late to get up and run. We had a head start, and they’d have to react, and they couldn’t possibly get to us before we reached cover. Then again, we couldn’t outrun a bullet. We just had to stay put and hope.

They came to a stop at the corner of the wall. It was good that they weren’t coming closer but bad that they weren’t going any farther away. Suddenly there was light—one of them was holding a flashlight. The beam skimmed across the runway. I pressed myself lower, pushing down on Alejandra, as the beam swept toward us, soared over us and then followed along the edge of the runway to where it gave way to the underbrush of the jungle.

I watched as the light continued to sweep back and forth. It lit up the far reaches of the wall and started back, passing the toolshed. It stopped and went back to the toolshed, aiming right at the shed—at the open door of the shed!

One of the men yelled something, and the three of them started toward the toolshed. They were moving quickly, looking away from us.

I rolled off Alejandra and got to my knees and then onto my feet, still watching them. I reached down, grabbed her by the hand and pulled her to her feet.

“We have to go now, fast, quietly. Get us to the path.”

She led, still holding my hand. I kept looking back at the three men. They were almost at the toolshed. That open door had caught their attention, and they weren’t looking anywhere else. I guessed it was just lucky that we’d left the door open. All they’d find were some knocked-over tools and…wait—we had closed the door to the tunnel, hadn’t we?

Alejandra was moving fast, and I had to work hard to keep up. It was even harder because I was looking over my shoulder as I ran. We reached the cover of the jungle, and I ducked to get underneath the overhanging branches. I bumped into Alejandra, who had come to an unexpected stop.

“I think we’re—ouch. Why did you punch me?” I hissed.

“Because you deserved it!” She punched me again. “You threw me to the ground and jumped on top of me!”

“I didn’t want them to see us.”

“And you told me to shut up. That is so rude!”

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to be rude. I didn’t want them to hear us.” I stopped myself. “Maybe we should be quieter now…please…if that’s okay with you.”

“I will be so quiet that I might not talk to you ever again,” she snapped.

That didn’t seem like a bad idea right now. I had the urge to ask if that was a threat or a promise.

From the other side of the brush I heard yelling and the sound of feet running fast. I had to fight the urge to burrow farther into the jungle. We needed to know what was happening out there. I moved back to the edge of the clearing and dropped to the ground. Almost instantly Alejandra was at my side.

Two more men with big blazing flashlights in their hands had just come through the gate. They followed their beams of light around the corner and to the toolshed, which was already illuminated by bobbing flashlights.

“Do you think they know we got out?” I asked.

“It depends. Did you seal up the door to the tunnel?”

“Me? I wouldn’t know how to do that. Did you seal it up?”

“I was not the last person out. You followed me, remember?” she asked. “But I think that maybe I did…maybe.”

“And if you didn’t, if we didn’t seal it back up?”

“Then they will find it and go back through the tunnel.”

“And find out that we’re not in the safe room and know we’re out here,” I said.

“Maybe yes, maybe no. They will only know that we are not in that safe room.”

“There is more than one?”

“There is one other. As my grandfather would say, it is better to be safe than sorry. We need to get to safety. Come on. We will get onto the path down from where it starts so that we cannot be seen by anybody at the gate.”

Slowly, trying to move as quietly as possible, we moved through the undergrowth. The gate—and I assumed the path—was to our right. It was hard to move quietly as the underbrush was thick. It was so dark and shadowy under the thick canopy that I could hardly see Alejandra, who was just a couple of meters in front of me.

My mind was filled with thoughts of men with guns in the clearing and jaguars and snakes in the jungle around us. We were sneaking through the underbrush because one was a certainty and the other a possibility. We had seen the men. That made them scarier and less scary all at once. Sometimes things you imagined were even worse than things you could actually see.

We broke through another layer of brush, and it took me a few seconds to realize we were in a clear area. We’d reached the path. In one direction, almost within sight, were the compound and the gate. In the other direction was the river, our way to freedom.

“Good, we found the path, that’s good,” I said. Really, I was talking more to myself than to Alejandra.

“We must move quickly.”

“And quietly,” I added.

“For a little bit. Then we will move and try to make noise.”

“Why would we do that?” I asked.

“If we make noise it warns the snakes, and they will get out of our way. We do not want to surprise them.”

“Surprising them isn’t what I’m worried about.”

“You should be. It is a surprised snake that is dangerous, because it bites you.”

“In that case, I can make lots of noise,” I said.

“But not too much.”

“Yeah, of course we don’t want to let the men know we’re out here.”

“That is not the problem. Soon we will be far away and the men cannot hear us. It is other things I am worried about,” she said.

Instantly I knew. “Jaguars.”

“Sí. They have good ears. They hunt by sound and scent. If they hear us, they will try to kill us.”

“Great. If they hear us, we’re dead.”

“We are not defenseless.” She lifted up her arm. There was a pistol in her hand. I hadn’t realized she’d taken it out of her pack.

“You could shoot a jaguar?” I asked.

“If I had the opportunity. They are very quick and very stealthy, and they always attack from the back.”

Instinctively I looked over my shoulder for the jaguar that I was sure was just behind me, getting ready to pounce.

“Maybe I should walk first because you have the gun.”

“Oh no, you should be in the back. If it jumps you, I might have a chance to turn and shoot it and save you. If it jumped me, you could not help.”

“Wait, I have a gun too. You said you were going to teach me how to use it.”

“Yes, but not now. There will be time for a lesson when we are farther away.”

She turned and started walking. I fell in behind her. Prime spot for a jaguar attack. I fought the urge to walk backward so I could keep an eye to the rear. Really, though, what good would that have done me, other than my being able to see my death coming?

NINE

Time blurred with the darkness and the danger. I pulled out my phone to check the time again, but the battery was dead. Using the flashlight app had drained it completely. It would have been nice to know. It would have been nicer to have made a phone call to Grandpa or the police or even my mother, but even with a charge, that couldn’t have happened. When I’d last checked, there hadn’t been any cell reception. I didn’t expect that would change.

The path was clearly marked, and we were making good progress. Almost always the path was narrow, the jungle pressing in on both sides. It was worst when the trees overhung the path. They blocked out the moonlight and fueled my imagination. Every overhang could be where the jaguar was sitting, waiting to drop down on us.

A continual chorus of noise rose from the jungle. Bugs and frogs sang and called out. There were louder noises too. Birds and monkeys yelled and moved through the trees—at least, I hoped it was birds and monkeys.

Alejandra stopped, and I bumped into her. Even in the darkness I could see she looked annoyed.

“Sorry.”

“We are far enough now.”

“Far enough for you to teach me to use the gun?”

I’d been thinking a lot about how much better I would feel if I was holding the gun instead of it being buried in my pack.

“Far enough for this.”

She turned on her flashlight, and the space around us became bright. I pulled mine out of my pocket and turned it on, doubling the light. I let the beam play in a circle around us. There was nothing on the path behind us—not jaguars or people. Ahead, the path disappeared around a curve. On both sides the jungle pressed in, blocking the light from going any more than a few meters.

“I have been thinking about the gun you carry,” she said.

“So have I. Can you teach me to use it now?” I started to take off my pack.

“No, I am thinking it is not a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“You said you have never even held a gun before. Giving you a loaded gun could cause mucho bad things to happen.”

“Even worse than me being eaten by a jaguar?” I asked.

“Oh yes. You could shoot yourself, or even worse again, you could shoot me.”

“I wouldn’t do that!”

“Not on purpose, but accidents happen. You are tired and scared and it is dark. Does that sound like a good time to be taught to use a gun?”

I had to admit that she was right.

“How about if we wait until the morning?” I suggested. “At least it won’t be dark.”

“Perhaps when we are in the boat I can show you.”

“When we’re in the boat, won’t it be too late?”

“Not really. Jaguars also swim,” she said.

“Great.”

“But do not worry. That is rare.”

At least that was a bit reassuring.

“Usually they do not swim where there are caimans. Jaguars are rare. Caimans are common. We will see many of them as we move downriver.”

“In that case, I think I do want that lesson. How far away is the river?”

She shook her head. “I am not sure. In the dark it is hard to tell. It could be around the next bend or another hour’s walk. Either way, it will not be coming to us.”

We started moving again. I was happy to keep going. Each step forward was one step farther away from the mansion and one step closer to the city.

There was a loud cry from the jungle, and I jumped. I noticed Alejandra did the same.

“Did that scare you?” Alejandra asked.

“We both jumped, so I guess it scared both of us. What was that?”

“It was a howler monkey.”

“It sounded like he was just above our heads,” I said, looking around to try to find him in the trees.

“He could be very far away. Their cry can be heard from kilometers away. It is good that it makes noise. Jaguars eat monkeys, so they will likely travel in that direction.”

“If crying out like that attracts predators, why does the monkey make that loud noise?” I asked.

“Monkeys are just like men.”

“Well, I guess through evolution we’re closely related.”

“I am not talking about evolution. I mean that even when it puts them in danger, both men and monkeys love to hear their own voices.”

“And that’s different from—” I was going to say you but stopped myself in time. There was no point in saying that. It would have been rude, and she would have just used my words to prove what she was saying.

“Men talk and talk and talk and talk and talk,” she said. “They all think they are so important.”

“Isn’t your grandfather really pretty important?”

“Yes, he is. You know that. Isn’t your grandpa important in your country too?”

I shrugged. “He’s important to us, and everybody knows him in our neighborhood, but I think that’s about it.”

“I believe we are now close to the river,” Alejandra said, changing the subject.

I shone my flashlight down the path. “I can’t see it.”

“Neither can I, but can you not smell it?”

I inhaled deeply. There was a musty quality to the air, different from the dampness that was just a normal part of the jungle. Then I realized it was getting even more damp. It had started to rain.

“There is a little shelter at the river. We should hurry to get there,” Alejandra said.

We doubled our pace along the path. Rounding a curve, I caught sight of the river, the light from my flashlight bouncing off the surface of the water. The light also captured the falling rain, which was getting heavier.

We picked up speed, pulled by the downhill slope and pushed by the desire to get out of the rain. The sky was lit up by a burst of lightning, followed almost instantly by a clap of thunder. A second and then a third bolt of lightning and claps of thunder followed.

“Let’s get to the shelter!” Alejandra yelled.

We ran down the slope as the rain started to come down even harder. The river was right up ahead, and just off to the side was a small building. We raced over and skidded to a stop. The structure had a roof but only one wall, and the wind was blowing the rain partway in. We moved to the center of the wall to find a place that wasn’t getting wet.

“I was hoping for a little more shelter,” I said.

“At least there is a roof.”

I walked over to the edge of the shelter and looked out toward the river. The first thing I saw were two aluminum boats. They had been pulled up onto the shore and were held in place by yellow ropes tied to a tree. They weren’t big, but each had a small engine on the back. Each could easily hold the two of us on a trip downstream. Beside them was an overturned canoe.

I let my flashlight shine along the river. It was certainly larger than it had appeared from the air. The current looked strong, and the jungle pressed in closely on both sides the same way it did along the path.

“Are we going to wait until the rain stops?” I asked.

“We will wait until first light. It is not wise to move on the river at night.”

“Sure, that makes sense.”

And then my flashlight caught something reflecting back at me. Eyes—shining, eerie yellow eyes looking at me from the opposite bank of the river. My first thought was that it was a jaguar, and my second was that Alejandra had said jaguars can swim. Then a second and third set of eyes appeared—one set moving slowly through the water. I knew they weren’t jaguars.

“Caimans. There are caimans,” I said under my breath. I turned toward Alejandra. “There are caimans.”

She stood up and came to my side. She’d taken off her pack but was still holding her gun in one hand and the flashlight in the other.

“I told you there would be caimans,” she said.

“I’ve seen some in the river and on the other shore.”

“Why would you think they are on the other shore of the river but not on this side?” she asked.

“Um…it’s just that I see them on the other shore.”

“Just because you do not see them does not mean they are not there.”

“They stay close to the river, right?” I asked.

“They would travel this far from the water for food.”

“Food…like us?” I asked.

“They eat everything that can get down their throats.”

“Should we go farther away from the river?”

“This is the only shelter. We both should sleep, but not at the same time. We can take turns standing guard,” she said.

“You can sleep first,” I offered.

“That is very gallant of you.”

“Thanks.” It was okay for her to see it that way. I just knew I wasn’t going to be able to go to sleep anytime soon.

“Shouldn’t I take the gun or get a quick lesson with mine?” I asked.

“Definitely not. If there is a problem, you should wake me.”

Again, I thought she was probably right, so there was no point in arguing.

Alejandra sat down in the one little dry spot in the shelter. She turned off her flashlight and put it and the gun down beside her. Using her pack as a pillow, she stretched out and lay down. She rolled over and away from me. All she needed was a blanket. Wait.

I went into my pack and pulled out the space blanket. I opened it up and laid it on top of Alejandra. She turned around and sat up.

“That was so nice. Thank you.” Even in the thin light, I could see her smile. It practically glowed.

“You’re welcome. Get some sleep.”

I walked to the edge of the shelter so I could see the river and the path. Those were the places where danger could come from. Well, those two places and the jungle. Yeah, I’d made the right choice to take first watch. There was no way I was going to be sleeping tonight.

TEN

Alejandra peacefully slept under the space blanket. In the dark she was basically invisible, but I knew she was there because she snored. Not loud, just gentle and constant, and in some ways it was reassuring to me. It was the only familiar sound in a sea of sounds that washed out of the jungle and into the shelter. I’d never known just how noisy a jungle could be. There was that constant buzzing, croaking, rumbling sound made by the bugs, frogs, birds and little animals that were living all around us. It was so relaxing that it almost could have lulled me to sleep. But there was really no danger of that because there were other sounds that kept me awake.

There were the random cries of the howler monkeys and the sound of breaking branches or something moving through the trees. It had to be monkeys moving from tree to tree, but in my head it was a either a jaguar or one of those men, or the two of them working together. I had visions of the men using jaguars as tracking animals to locate us. Just how tired was I?

Without a watch I had no idea what time it was, so I didn’t know when I should wake Alejandra to take a shift. Really, though, what was the point? I’d take all the shifts, because it wasn’t like I was going to go to sleep anyway. This way one of us got some rest.

I developed a bit of a routine. I paced along the three open sides of the shelter. On one side was the river—and the caimans. On the second was the path—and, potentially, the men who were after us. On the third was the jungle—and the jaguars. Three separate sides and three separate dangers.

Mostly I kept the flashlight turned off. The rain and clouds had moved away, and the moon and stars provided enough light for me to see. The flashlight wasn’t really much good anyway. The beam wasn’t strong enough to pierce the undergrowth, and it temporarily blinded me before my eyes adjusted to the darkness. Besides, I was completely visible when it was on. I wondered how far away the light could be seen. Better to stay in the dark and as invisible as possible.

A few times I’d thought about taking Alejandra’s gun from the floor beside her—it wasn’t like she would have noticed—or digging into my pack and taking out the other gun. Each time I’d thought better of it. This wasn’t some movie or video game. Guns were dangerous, and I had no idea how to use one.

Instead, I’d armed myself with a piece of metal piping I’d found leaning against the wall of the shelter. It was about a meter long and had some weight to it. I didn’t really know what good it would do in an emergency, but still it felt good to have it in my hands.

There was another loud crash from the jungle and I spun around to face the direction it had come from. I couldn’t see anything, so there was nothing I could do except watch and wait. I tried to peer through the trees and realized that while I couldn’t see anything dangerous, I could see farther than I could before. It was getting lighter out. It was still dark, but less dark. That could only mean that morning was coming.

“Hello.”

I jumped in the air and turned.

Alejandra was sitting up. “Is it my turn to watch?”

“You can go back to sleep if you want.”

“What time is it?” she asked.

“Close to morning. It’s starting to get light.”

“You mean I slept through the night?”

“I didn’t want to wake you.”

“You should have gotten me up to take a turn.”

“You were sleeping peacefully, and I didn’t want to wake you up.” I almost mentioned the snoring but decided not to.

“First you put a blanket around me, and now this. Maybe you’re more of a gentleman than I gave you credit for,” she said. “Perhaps my boyfriend should be a bit worried.”

She got to her feet, yawned and stretched. Then she walked over to me.

“Maybe I should do something for you now,” she said.

Was she going to kiss me? That thought filled me with a new rush of fear.

“Get your bag. I’m going to teach you how to use the gun.”

“Oh, yeah, that would be great,” I stammered.

I turned on my flashlight and stumbled across the floor. I aimed the light inside my pack, reached in and carefully, oh so carefully, picked up the gun. I made sure to hold it by the handle, to keep my fingers away from the trigger and to not point it at either her or me. I handed it to her and aimed the flashlight on the weapon.

“This is a Glock, just like the gun I have.” She moved something and it made a clicking sound. “It has a full clip—eleven bullets—and there is a twelfth already in the chamber. It is ready to fire.”

“Doesn’t it have a safety or something like that?” I asked, giving out the little bit of information about guns that I knew from movies and TV.

She spun the gun slightly. “The safety is this little blade in the middle of the trigger. You must firmly squeeze the trigger to depress it or the gun will not fire.”

She went to hand me back the gun, and I hesitated.

“Do not be afraid.”

I was going to say I wasn’t, but I was. I took it from her.

“How do you know so much about guns?” I asked.

“I have had lessons in using firearms. My grandfather has a firing range. When this is all over, maybe we can do some target shooting.”

I laughed. “Target shooting sounds better than being the target.”

It was really starting to get lighter. I could see the river and the boat—and there were little lights coming down the path through the jungle.

“Somebody’s coming down the path!” I exclaimed.

She said, “It has to be them. We have to get down the river before they come!”

I watched as she ran back into the shelter. She picked up her pack, tossed in the flashlight and the blanket and grabbed her gun.

“Come on! To the boat!” she said as she raced by me.

I took a few steps toward her and skidded to a stop. I had to get my pack as well. I ran back and grabbed it from the ground. I started running again, then thought better of running with a gun in my hand and slowed down.

By the time I got to the boat, Alejandra had already untied it from the tree and dragged it down to the edge of the river. I tossed my pack into the boat, beside hers. “Get in!” I said.

“No, we must do one more thing. We must bring the second boat.”

“We’re taking separate boats?”

“Don’t be a fool. We need to make sure that nobody else takes a second boat.”

“Oh, yeah, that makes sense.” There was no point in getting on the river if they could just follow us.

We rushed back. She quickly untied the boat, and we started dragging it toward the river. I could see the men on the path. Thank goodness they hadn’t seen us yet.

Reaching the river again, she said, “Push it in and let the current carry it away.”

I bumped it into the water, and together we gave it a big shove. It floated out from the shore, and the current started it moving downstream.

“Get in and start up the engine,” I said. I could hear the panic in my voice.

She jumped into the boat and scrambled to the back. She lowered the engine until its propeller was in the water. At that same instant the men came into the clearing. There were five or six of them, and while they were too far away and it was still too dark to make out their faces, I could see that they had guns.

That was when they saw us too. They skidded to a stop and then started running toward us, yelling. I couldn’t make out anything other than “Alejandra!”

“Do you know them? Are they on our side?” I yelled.

“I cannot tell. We do not have time to—”

All at once they started firing their guns! I saw bullets hit the ground by the shelter, kicking up little puffs of dirt.

“Not on our side! Start the engine! Start the engine!” I yelled as I pushed the boat completely into the river and then jumped into it.

Instantly the current caught the boat, and it began to spin. Alejandra was standing by the engine, but it wasn’t starting. She was staring at it but not doing anything. I stepped over the seat and put my gun down on the bottom of the boat.

“Here, let me do it!”

I grabbed the crank and pulled out the cord. The engine sputtered but didn’t start. I looked for the gas line. Following it down, I saw a little switch. If it was turned off, the engine wasn’t getting any fuel. I turned the switch and then pulled the cord again. The engine caught! I grabbed the handle, spun the engine around to aim us downriver and then gave it gas. The boat jumped like it had been stung by a bee, and Alejandra fell backward, practically tumbling over the side before I grabbed her.

I looked back in time to see that the men had reached the river. They were waving their arms and weapons in the air.

“Get down!” I screamed. “Get down!”

I opened the throttle up full, and the boat zipped down the river. I bent down and tried to use the engine as a shield to stop any bullets that might be fired—but none were. The men were probably yelling, but I couldn’t possibly hear them over the roar of the outboard engine. We passed the other boat lazily drifting in the current. We then rounded a bend, and the men disappeared from sight. I eased off the throttle, and the engine noise lessened.

I looked to the left. The brilliant orange curve of the sun peered out from above the canopy of trees, and the whole world was in morning light. It was beautiful and so bright that I couldn’t even look directly at it. For a few seconds I got caught up in what I was seeing instead of what had just happened. Forget the sunrise—we’d just been shot at.

“That was way too close,” I said. “I guess there’s no question now about what those men were trying to do. They were shooting at us.”

“But they were not trying to hit us,” she said.

“How can you know that?”

“Kidnappers do not try to kill the person they want to kidnap. There’s no ransom for dead people. That is why they did not try to shoot us when we were on the river.”

“I thought we were just out of range.”

“Oh no, they could have picked us off. We needed to get away sooner.”

“We could have if you’d started the engine sooner.”

“I was looking for the Start button. I did not know about this cord thing. How did you know?” Alejandra asked.

“We don’t have guns where I come from, but we do have a cottage—at least, my grandpa has a cottage. He has boats, and we’ve all known how to run an outboard engine since we were six or seven. It’s not that complicated.”

She looked upset. I’d hurt her feelings. I had to say something else.

“It’s not complicated if you have experience, I mean. It’s like me with the gun. You have the experience—I don’t. I can show you how to drive the boat and start the engine, if you want.”

“No need. We have servants who do that sort of thing.”

I didn’t feel that bad for her anymore. “No problem. I guess that’s one of the big differences between the way you live and the way we live. We don’t believe in servants.”

“Do not believe in or cannot afford?” she said with a smirk.

“I guess both. No matter how rich I was, I wouldn’t have servants.” I didn’t want to fight with her. “The important thing is, we’re safe now.”

“They could still follow us.”

“We got rid of the other boat.”

“There was a canoe. They could follow us in that.”

“They could follow us, but they can’t catch us. We’re moving at a pretty good clip.”

That got me thinking. How much gas did we have? I reached down and picked up the tank that held the fuel feeding the outboard engine. I sloshed it around and figured it was about half full.

“How far do we have to go?” I asked.

“It is forty kilometers by air.”

“But the river curves and bends. It has to be farther,” I said.

“Probably, but I do not know how much farther,” she said. “We should move faster to get there sooner.”

“If we move faster, we’ll burn more fuel, so that might not be too smart. I don’t think we have enough fuel to travel faster.”

“There were extra tanks of fuel in the shelter You should have taken one or even two,” she said.

“Maybe you should have taken them, or asked one of your servants to help, or we should have prepared more last night. Either way, there’s no point in blaming anybody. We’re going to be okay.”

“If we run out of fuel, we will be not be okay,” she snapped. “It will be your fault.”

“Yes, it will all be my fault, but we will still be okay. Look, the current of this river is moving us along at a pretty good speed. Even without the engine, we can still get to the city, even if it takes most of the day.”

“Really?”

“Really. And we can row a bit if we have to.” There were two oars in the bottom of the boat. “There’s nothing to worry about.”

Of course—moving along a river that I knew nothing about was a cause for concern. Of course—having men with guns chasing us was a cause for concern. Of course—having caimans in the river and jaguars in the jungle was cause for concern. There was enough worry to go around for both of us!

I goosed the engine so we could go faster. The most obvious danger was from behind, and I wanted to get more distance between the men and us. I looked back anxiously over my shoulder, thinking I’d see what I was imagining in my head. But all I saw was the curve of the river, hemmed in on both sides by the jungle. That’s all I should have seen. Realistically, there was no way they could catch us in a canoe, and the other boat was long gone…unless it had drifted back to shore just down from where we’d released it. Great. Another worry.

I turned my attention to what was in front of us. The river was wide, but I didn’t know how deep or how rocky. If nothing else, I had to watch for those logs in the river…wait, those weren’t logs—they were caimans swimming through the water ahead of us. I started to zigzag out of their way when they dove beneath the surface. Maybe they were more afraid of me than I was of them. No, that probably wasn’t possible.

“Could you pass me my gun, please?” I asked.

Alejandra hesitated. “If I give it to you, do you promise to not shoot yourself?”

“I’m not planning on shooting anybody or anything. I just want it close.”

“Before I do that, are you hungry?” she asked.

“A bit.”

“Then you should eat.” She started digging around in her pack.

I knew what she was doing. She wanted to hand me some food instead of a weapon. That might not have been the worst idea.

She removed two bottles of water and a couple of energy bars and handed me one of each.

“Thanks. You can hand me the gun after I eat. Don’t worry—I’m not going to shoot it.”

“If you are not going to shoot anything, then why do you need a gun?” she asked. “My grandfather always says that there is no point in carrying a gun unless you are prepared to use it.”

“Interesting…does he carry a gun?”

“Always.”

“That is so strange,” I said.

“It would be stranger if he did not carry one. I assume your grandpa does not carry a weapon.”

“Nobody except police officers carries weapons where I come from. My grandpa hates guns.”

“But did you not say he was in the war?” she asked.

“Of course, but that’s why he doesn’t carry a gun.”

“That makes no sense,” she said.

“Maybe he’s just saying the same thing your grandfather is saying. He had a weapon he had to use for years, and now he doesn’t ever want to have to use one again.”

“But I was told he used to fly into and out of our country on business, so I am sure he carried a weapon then.”

“He was an importer/exporter. Why would he need a weapon?”

“I guess it would depend on what he was importing or exporting. You know that many drugs flow through this country.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “Are you saying my grandpa was a drug smuggler?”

“People who fly small planes into Central America are often drug smugglers. How can you be so sure that he was not a drug smuggler?” she asked.

“My grandpa is the most honest person I’ve ever met. How would you feel if I said things like that about your grandfather?”

She shrugged. “You would not be the first person to say such things about him.”

“People say your grandfather was a drug smuggler?”

“Not necessarily drugs. Some people have said weapons or even endangered animals,” Alejandra said.

“I know none of that could be true,” I said.

“How could you possibly know that about my grandfather?”

“Easy. Your grandfather is friends with my grandpa, so I know he’s a good guy. No choice, no doubts. Right?”

“Right.” She gave me a big smile.

Her smile was so much better than her scowl and her smirk and her other angry expressions. I was amazed by how fast she could go from one to the other. She was like an express elevator in a big building. She was either at the top or the bottom or rushing toward one of them.

I turned the outboard motor off.

“What happened to the engine?” she exclaimed.

“I just switched it off to save gas. Sorry.” I was sorry I’d startled her and more sorry that the smile had gone. “I thought we could drift for a while.”

“Okay.”

“It’s nice not to have the roar of the motor. Besides, we’re still moving pretty fast.”

ELEVEN

We spent the day going down the river. I used one of the oars as a rudder when I had the engine off to keep us in the middle of the river. Sometimes the river was wider and slower, and at other times, much narrower and faster. Sometimes I used the engine and sometimes I let us drift. The gas tank was still about one-quarter full, so I wasn’t too worried. I was pretty sure we’d covered much, much more than half the distance. It would have been better if I knew exactly how far we’d gone or how much farther we had to go or even what the river looked like ahead. Or, for that matter, how long we’d been traveling and what time it actually was. I guessed we’d been traveling for about four hours, so it was somewhere around ten or eleven… or nine…or noon. We were lost in space and time.

“That was the last of my water,” Alejandra said, holding up an empty bottle.

“I’ve got a little bit left in my second bottle,” I said. “Would you like it?” I offered her the bottle.

“No, you should save it for yourself.”

“We can share it.” I handed her the bottle, and she took a small sip, handing it back to me.

“It’s strange that we’re on a river and we don’t have any water to drink,” I said.

“There are things in the water—parasites—that would not be good.”

As the sun climbed it became brighter and stronger, and the heat continued to build. At one point I considered moving closer to the shore so that we could take advantage of the shade cast by the trees. But then I thought better of it. I didn’t know the water or where rocks might be, and the center of the river was likely deeper.

“It is so hot,” she said.

“You could dangle an arm in the river to cool you down,” I said.

“That would be very stupid. It is like dangling bait for a caiman to either rip your arm off or pull you in and kill you.”

I hadn’t even thought of that possibility. “I haven’t seen any of them in a while.”

“Just because you cannot see them does not mean they are not there. Do you know how long a caiman can stay underwater?” she asked.

“No idea. How long?”

“Umm…I am not sure, but I know it would be long.”

I heard the sound of a motor. I looked up and scanned the sky. Was it a plane? Was it my grandpa’s plane?

“There is a boat!” Alejandra yelled, pointing behind me, upriver.

I spun around. The boat had just made the curve in the river. It didn’t look much bigger than ours, and it held four or five people. It was close enough for us to see that much, but far enough away that we couldn’t tell anything about them. It did look like it was moving pretty quickly…and from this distance, it looked similar…similar to the one we’d sent into the river. My first thought was, Is it them? And my instant reaction was to try to make sure they couldn’t get close enough for me to find out.

I yanked on the starter cord, and the engine roared to life. “Hang on!” I gave it full throttle, and the engine screamed as the front of the boat lifted out of the water. Despite my warning, Alejandra almost toppled out.

The little boat zipped along, skimming the surface of the water. At this speed, it was even more important that I keep an eye on what was ahead of us, to look for rocks and logs, but I couldn’t help spinning my head around to see the boat behind us.

“Is it them?” Alejandra yelled.

“I don’t know. It could be anybody!”

I kept the throttle wide-open, and we rounded a curve in the river. The boat behind us disappeared from view. Maybe they weren’t following us, and they were going to stop—but then the boat reappeared around the bend…traveling faster than I would have expected. They were gaining on us.

Alejandra looked worried as she peered past me to the trailing boat. I noticed that she was now holding her gun again.

“Can you tell if they have guns?” I asked.

“I cannot see any, but that does not mean they do not.”

“They could just be in a hurry to get downriver,” I said. Was I trying to convince her or myself?

“There are four of them. Four men,” she said.

“Are they the men who were trailing us?”

“I cannot tell.”

I glanced over my shoulder again. They were much closer now, and the man at the front began waving his arms at us. It looked like a couple of them were yelling, but I couldn’t possibly hear their words over the roar of the engine.

“They are getting closer!” Alejandra said. “You need to go faster!”

I had the throttle completely open. There was nothing else I could do to get more speed. I’d just have to shorten the distance. We were coming up to the next curve in the river, and I angled toward the side, cutting down the distance I needed to round the bend. I made the turn, and the other boat disappeared again—but reappeared a few seconds later. They’d cut the bend as well.

There was nothing more I could do. They were gaining, so close now that I could see them clearly. All four of them were gesturing and yelling.

They kept edging closer, almost pulling alongside us.

“Do something! Do something!” Alejandra screamed.

There was only one thing I could do. I turned the engine and we swerved to the side, and I bumped our boat into their boat. We bounced to the side. Alejandra screamed, and the men in the boat yelled at me.

“What are they yelling?” I asked.

“They want you to stop, to pull over…but do not do that!”

I tried to zigzag again, but they were almost right beside us, and they had us trapped against the shore. Their boat bumped into ours, and one of the men grabbed on to the side of our boat. A second man got to his feet and tried to balance himself—wait, was he going to try to jump into our boat?

I reached down and grabbed my gun. I spun it around so I was holding it by the barrel, and I smashed the handle down on the hand of the man holding our boat. He screamed and let go, and the two boats separated. I eased off the throttle, and the other boat raced forward ahead of us. Now we were behind them as they zigged and zagged, and I tried to stay right behind them. I managed the first few turns and then they picked up speed, pulled away and completed a long curve until they were behind us again. They’d come at us soon enough, but this gave us a little space and time. I expected them to circle back, but they didn’t. They kept going until they were now headed upstream, away from us.

“What are they doing?” Alejandra asked.

I shook my head. “I have no idea. I think they’re going—they’re leaving.”

I was going to slow down again but thought better of it. We needed to keep distance between us and them. I kept looking behind us, waiting for them to come back, but they didn’t. They were heading away, leaving us alone. But why? Had the sight of my gun scared them off?

Finally satisfied that they were gone, I eased off the throttle, and the engine settled down—and then stopped completely.

“Why did you turn the engine off?” Alejandra demanded.

“I didn’t. It died.”

“Start it. Start it quickly,” she ordered.

I stood up to grab the cord and was just going to crank it when I realized what the problem might be. I lifted up the gas tank. It felt light. It felt empty. I shook it. There was nothing inside. “We’re out of gas, but we’re okay as long as they don’t come back. We’ll get there. The current is moving us along pretty fast.” Actually, we were moving too fast.

I took another look back. The men weren’t behind us—they weren’t even in sight. They weren’t the worry now. The river was closing in, and on both sides the banks were rising up. It was like we were going into a canyon.

And then I heard it—the sound of rushing water. We were heading into a set of rapids!

TWELVE

I tried to think. There had to be something we could do. We had to get to shore, but without power that wasn’t possible. What if we jumped out and swam? No, we’d just be swept downriver without a boat. There was only one choice.

“Hang on. We’re going through,” I said.

I shifted from the seat to the bottom and reached out so I had one hand on each side of the boat. Alejandra did the same, but instead of facing forward, she sat so she was facing me and the back of the boat.

“I do not want to see what is coming,” she explained without my asking.

I understood.

“It’s going to be all right,” I said, trying to sound more confident than I was. “I’ve ridden through rapids before.”

“You have?”

I nodded. Of course, it had been in a kayak, with a helmet and life jacket and experts right there to spot and save us if there was a problem. Here, we had no helmets, no life jackets, and the only “experts” who could spot us in the water were caimans, and they weren’t there to save us.

We hit the first drop, and we both flew up a few centimeters. Alejandra squealed. I was too shocked to utter a sound. Water sprayed over the sides, soaking us. I was going to yell for her to hold on when we hit a second drop and then a third and a fourth. We bounced up and down, and on the fourth bump she lost her grip on the boat. I stuck my legs out and tried to pin her to the bottom. There was a gigantic crash, and we both tumbled forward and landed intertwined in the very front of the boat.

I scrambled and pushed off, fighting my way to the back of the boat as it thumped against another rock, and I was thrown into the air and again landed on top of Alejandra. I tried to get up, but we smashed into something else and then dropped and spun around. We were going backward down the river through the rapids! We were sideways as the boat continued to spin and then pointed forward again.

I sat up so I could look ahead. I could see a large area ahead where the river flattened out, but there was another set of rapids before we’d reach that. Once again the bottom dropped out of my world and I became airborne, landing back in the boat but just barely, my side hitting against the side of the boat. This time Alejandra grabbed me so I wouldn’t topple over and out. There was another crash, which knocked us and the boat to the side, and then the sound of grinding, ripping metal. We were bounced around the boat, together, then apart, and then finally it stopped.

I sat up. We were spinning slightly, but we were through. All around us was flat water. The river had widened out so much that it looked more like a lake than a river.

“We made it,” I said. I turned to look upstream at the rapids and realized we had lost our motor. We weren’t just out of fuel. We were motorless.

“DJ…the boat…there is a leak.”

We were soaked and sitting in a puddle in the bottom of the boat. I knew that. What I hadn’t realized until she mentioned it was that water was bubbling in through a gash on the side of the boat, just above the bottom.

“We’re going to sink!” she exclaimed.

I looked around for the oars. There was only one. The other must have gotten tossed out by our ride through the rapids.

“I’ll paddle! Start bailing us out!”

“With what?”

“Use your hands!”

She put her hands together like a scoop and started throwing water out of the boat. I dug in with the oar and began paddling. I dug in again and again. We were moving, but not very far or very fast, and the shore was far away.

Water continued to pour in through the gash. It was clear that the water was coming in faster than she could bail it out, and as it did, the boat was becoming heavier and harder for me to move.

I continued to dig in but at the same time tried to figure out how far away the shore was, how fast we were moving, how much water was flowing in and whether we’d make it to the shore before we made it to the bottom. Then I noticed the caimans.

There was one in the water off to the side, and then a second head popped out of the water, and then a third appeared directly in front of us. Ahead, on the shore, were three or four others, basking in the sun. Even if I got us there before we sank, we’d just be home-delivery fast food.

Wait! The guns! We still had the guns—we could shoot the caimans. Desperately I searched the boat for the weapons. There they were, side by side, on the bottom of the boat, under the accumulated water. They were useless as well.

“Alejandra,” I said.

She stopped bailing and asked, “Why are you not rowing?”

“We’re not going to make it. We’re going to sink before we get there, and there are caimans on the shore and in the water.” I pointed to a big one just off to the side, its head above water, staring at us.

“We will kill them—we will shoot them.”

I pointed to the submerged guns.

She reached down and snatched one of them. She aimed at the caiman and fired! A bullet hit the water beside it, and then a second seemed to hit it as the caiman jumped and disappeared.

“But how? The gun was under water!”

“A Glock can fire even if it is under the water. Paddle, keep paddling—we will make it!”

As I went to dig the paddle in again, I noticed we weren’t alone. A large boat was zipping across the water right toward us. Either we were going to be rescued or kidnapped. I reached down and grabbed the second gun from beneath the water. It didn’t matter if it was the caimans or the kidnappers. I wasn’t going down without a fight.

A voice was coming from a loudspeaker on the boat. The man was speaking in Spanish, and I had no idea what he was saying. Then I read what was painted on the boat. In big red letters it read POLICIA. Even with my limited Spanish, I knew who that was.

“We are saved!” Alejandra cheered. “We are saved!”

THIRTEEN

Alejandra’s grandfather and my grandpa came back into the room. Her grandfather looked angry enough to explode.

“We just got off the radio with Berta to let her know that you both are fine,” my grandpa said.

Alejandra’s grandfather started yelling at her in Spanish.

“Juan, Juan,” my grandpa said, putting his hands on Juan’s shoulders. “The most important thing is that they’re both fine.”

Juan turned and continued to talk excitedly in Spanish with my grandpa. Whatever my grandpa was saying seemed to be calming him down. Thank goodness.

“English, Juan, let’s speak in English so everybody can understand.”

I was the only person who didn’t speak Spanish, and I was happy enough not to understand or be part of the conversation.

“Fine, fine, fine,” Juan said. “I will speak in English. Why would you two do what you did?” he demanded.

“We were escaping the kidnappers,” Alejandra explained.

“There were no kidnappers.”

“If there were no kidnappers, why was there so much gunfire?” she said.

“And explosions,” I added. “It sounded like they were blowing up the walls of the compound.”

“That was fireworks,” Juan said.

“Fireworks?” Alejandra and I said in unison.

“It was a surprise I had arranged for you two. Didn’t Berta tell you there was going to be a surprise?”

She had. I remembered her saying that. I even remembered Alejandra trying to convince her to give us that surprise.

“But there was pounding on the door of the safe room. Somebody was trying to get in,” Alejandra said.

“That was Berta. When she could not find you, she tried to get into the room. She knocked and then tried to remember the combination,” Juan explained.

“But if no one was trying to harm us, why did men try to shoot us by the shelter at the river?” Alejandra asked.

That was a good question.

“They were not firing at you. They were firing at the jaguar that was in the brush by the shelter,” Juan said.

I gasped. “Jaguar?”

“It was stalking the two of you. They saw it and tried to shoot it. They missed, but they were able to chase it away.”

Alejandra and I exchanged questioning looks. Had this all been nothing but us running from our imaginations?

“Wait, there were those men in the boat before we went down the rapids,” she said. “How do you explain them?”

“Those were simply local fisherman who tried to stop you from going through the rapids,” Juan explained.

“They were trying to save us?” I asked.

“Yes, and for their trouble one of them ended up with two broken fingers,” my grandpa said. “Who was it who smashed his hand?”

I raced my hand slightly. “I, um, hit him with the gun.”

“I guess we should all be grateful that you didn’t shoot him,” Grandpa said.

“I wouldn’t have shot him!” I exclaimed. “I’m just so sorry, really.”

“I had one of my associates speak to him,” Juan said. “He understands, and he has been compensated.”

“Compensated?” I asked.

“His medical expenses were paid,” Grandpa said.

“As well as additional money for his pain and suffering and to not press the matter with the police,” Juan added.

“Thank you. Thank you so much for doing that.”

“You are my guest,” Juan said. “As well, I suspect that one of you has much more blame for all of this.”

I looked at Alejandra. I expected her to look downcast or scared or sorry. Instead, she looked angry, her eyes blazing.

“No, I’m just as responsible for this as she is. It’s not her fault,” I said.

Her eyes softened.

My grandpa laughed. “Juan, I see so much of your late wife when I look at Alejandra.”

“As do I,” Juan said. “She is like her grandmother, my dear departed wife, in so many ways.”

My grandpa walked over and stood right beside Alejandra. “Young lady, there is hardly a compliment anybody could ever give you greater than comparing you to your grandmother. She was one of the finest, most charming, most beautiful, most adventurous women in the entire history of the world.” He turned to Juan. “And somebody who led you into more than a few misadventures, my friend.”

“The best adventures of my life. Now we have to decide what to do with these two,” Juan said.

“I have a few ideas. How about if you and I talk more about this in private?” Grandpa said.

Alejandra and I sat in silence until they left the room.

“Thank you for defending me,” Alejandra said.

“I didn’t think it was fair to blame just you.”

“I meant for defending me out there in the jungle and on the river. You were always there to try to protect me.”

“I sort of remember that you were the one with the gun.”

“You were brave even when you did not have a gun. You were there to protect me,” she replied.

“I helped protect you from kidnappers who didn’t exist,” I said.

“And caimans, rapids and a jaguar. Those were real.”

“We were taking care of each other.” I paused. “What do you think our grandfathers are going to do to us?”

“I am not sure, but I know what I am going to do.”

She stood up and walked over to my side of the table. She bent down and gave me a kiss. My first kiss. A real kiss right on the lips. And I kissed her back. Somehow all of this seemed worth it no matter how they decided to punish us.

FOURTEEN

I hummed along as Sinatra played in the background and the engines of the plane buzzed in the foreground.

“How long before we land?” I asked.

“Less than an hour. I’m so sad it’s almost over.”

“Me too. It was an incredible week. Even the parts that weren’t.”

“Often the best moments in life are the ones we didn’t expect,” he said.

“I didn’t expect any of it,” I said. “I didn’t expect that we’d be punished by going zip-lining and parasailing and snorkeling and hiking the volcanoes and playing with monkeys and sailing and riding Sea-Doos.”

“We were never going to punish you. Juan was just very worried.”

“And you weren’t?” I asked.

“Of course I was worried, but I figured you’d take care of the situation one way or another. That’s who you are.”

I wanted to tell him he had more faith in me than I deserved, but I really liked his thinking about me that way.

It had been a great week with Grandpa and Alejandra and her grandfather. She was full of fun and excitement and adventure. She could have flashes of anger, but I had worked hard to keep her happy. That was partly because I liked to make her happy—her smile was so much better than her scowl.

“Could I ask you a question?” I said.

“You can ask me anything, and you know I’ll answer it.”

I’d been thinking about this a lot, and I’d figured out how to phrase it.

“Alejandra said that there are rumors about her grandfather,” I said.

“You can’t believe everything you hear. What exactly were the rumors?”

“That he was a smuggler,” I said.

“Oh, in that case, I’m sure the rumors about him are true.”

“Really?”

“You have to understand that the borders between the countries down there have always been pretty…shall we say, fluid, especially decades ago, so people often moved things from one country to another without going through official channels.”

“What sort of things?” I asked. Was he going to say drugs or weapons?

“It could have been almost anything. There are things in Juan’s past that I don’t ask about and he doesn’t tell.”

“Did you ever do any of that?”

“Smuggling?”

I nodded.

“I’ve brought a few bottles of fine whiskey across a border or two in my time…you know, for personal use. Juan and his father owned a coffee plantation, and I arranged for a whole lot of their coffee to be exported.”

“But there was nothing else, right?” I asked.

“DJ, do you really need to ask?”

I shook my head.

“I could never do anything like that. I’m not a very good liar. Your grandmother always said she could tell when I was up to something because she could see it on my face.”

I knew what he was telling me was the truth because he never did lie. Never. He was completely honest and honorable.

“Of course, there was one occasion when I did spend a night in a jail down there,” he said.

“You did!”

“Nothing serious, but there were a couple of misadventures I got into myself because of Alejandra’s grandmother.”

“You and her and Juan?”

“Well…this is before I met Juan. Before she met him.” He paused. “He doesn’t know that we knew each other before, and it’s probably best if you keep that fact under your hat.”

“Of course.”

“I know I can count on you to keep that secret.” He paused again. “I’m also wondering if some of what happened during this week should also be just between you and me.”

“What parts?” I asked.

“I don’t think we should mention to your mother that I went parasailing or zip-lining. You know how she worries about me being too old.”

“Probably best for her not to find out about that,” I agreed. That, of course, meant not telling my brother Steve or any of my cousins either.

“I was also wondering about not talking about your misadventures with Alejandra.”

“Which parts?” I asked.

“I was thinking all parts. I can’t even imagine how your mother would react if she found out the two of you were trekking through the jungle and traveling on rivers filled with caimans and rapids.”

“I wasn’t looking forward to her finding out about that.”

“And it’s not just that she would be angry or worried, but how all of my daughters, all of your aunts, would react. If they found out what happened on this trip, they might just decide not to let your brother or cousins go on their trips with me.”

“I hadn’t even thought of that.” It would be awful if I blew it for Steve and the others.

“I know it feels wrong to keep things from your mother, but I think it just might be the best thing. What do you think?”

I didn’t have to think. “I agree completely.”

He reached out a hand, and we shook. “Then it’s agreed. What happened in Central America stays in Central America.”

“I’m happy that what happened to me won’t stop you from going on an adventure with Steve and all my cousins.”

“There are going to be lots of adventures ahead. And just so you know, this isn’t going to be the last adventure you and I are going to share,” he said.

“It isn’t?”

“Guaranteed. I have at least one more special adventure for you up my sleeve.”

That made me smile, because if my grandfather said it was going to happen, then it was going to happen. This adventure was almost over, but there was at least one more still to come.

So much of this one had to be kept secret, although it would have been amazing to tell Steve about it. But he’d never know. I guessed that was okay, because I didn’t want him to know what an idiot I had been, getting swept up in so much that wasn’t real.

I would tell him some things about my adventures. I’d start by telling him about that leap into the water. And end by telling him about that kiss. In some ways, that was an even more exciting plunge.

I thought back to Grandpa saying there was at least one more adventure yet to come. Of course, I didn’t know what it would be, but I knew my grandpa well enough to know it was going to be something amazing.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

This book—all of the prequels to the Seven series—were inspired by a simple question from Robin Tameshtit: “Have you ever thought of writing prequels?” Great thanks to Robin for being the spark to this series.

ERIC WALTERS is the author of 102 books. They have been translated into thirteen languages and won over 125 awards—in Canada and internationally—including fourteen Children’s Choice awards. Often, Eric goes to the places where his stories are set, and he spent time hiking the jungles of Central America and flying in small planes—the things done by DJ, his main character in this book. Eric admits that he identifies far too much with this character. When not writing and presenting, Eric devotes time to his children’s program in Kenya—Creation of Hope (www.creationofhope.com). For more information, visit Eric’s website www.ericwalters.net. Jungle Land is the prequel to Between Heaven and Earth, Eric’s novel in Seven (the series).

SEE WHERE DJ GOES NEXT IN AN EXCERPT FROM BETWEEN HEAVEN AND EARTH FROM SEVEN (THE SERIES).

The room was large and lavish, with dark oak paneling. A big mahogany desk dominated the room; overstuffed leather chairs and couches encircled it. I’d never been in a lawyer’s office before. But then again, prior to a few days ago, I’d never been in a funeral home or attended a funeral either.

There were twelve of us in the room—me, my mother, my brother Steve, my mother’s three sisters and two of my uncles, and my four cousins, Adam, Webb, Spencer and Bernard, who insisted on being called Bunny. These were the eleven people in the world who meant the most to me. The only person missing was the reason we were here—my grandpa. A shudder radiated through my entire body. I hoped nobody saw it. My mother reached out and placed her hand on mine.

“It’s all right, DJ,” she said softly.

Her eyes were so red from crying. I knew how much she was going to miss him. I knew how much we were all going to miss him. I just couldn’t afford to shed tears. Somebody had to be in control. That was my job.

His death had been hard on everybody, but maybe the hardest on my mother. I’d heard my Aunt Vicky talking about how we must be “reliving” my father’s death. I thought that was a funny choice of words—how could a death be relived?—but I understood what she meant. That didn’t mean I agreed with her, just that I understood. My father had been gone for so long, since I was really little, that I hadn’t even been part of all of that. No funeral home, no visitation, no cemetery, no burial memories. I couldn’t relive what I hadn’t lived.

With my mother’s whispered reassurance over, the room became completely silent again. It was almost as if all the oxygen had been sucked out of the room. Then again, since nobody seemed to be breathing, it wasn’t like we needed air. We all just sat there, in silence, waiting for the lawyer to arrive. I didn’t know what was in the will, and I didn’t care what Grandpa was leaving me, because he’d already left so many memories. But it was a term of his will that we all needed to be there, so we had no choice. It would have been disrespectful for us not to come.

Of course that hadn’t stopped my brother from trying to get out of it. Typical. If it wasn’t his idea, he didn’t want any part of it. Mom had finally convinced him. If she hadn’t, I would have convinced him in a whole different way. Steve could be such a jerk sometimes. It was hard to believe that twins could be so different, but we rarely saw things the same way.