Brandon stared up at the enormous sky hovering above him and breathed in a lungful of the crisp night air. The view of the snowcapped mountain they’d chased after today was incredible, but it was still hard to beat the cloudless, black African sky. After the orange glow of the sunset vanished beneath the horizon, the Milky Way had appeared and now hung like a huge band of lights surrounded by thousands of tiny jewels. It almost made him want to believe there really was a God who’d created all of this.
Jodi sat perched on the edge of the bolder beside him, sipping tea while the fire the porters had built after dinner crackled in front of them. For months before their wedding, they’d discussed cruises, Paris, and the Caribbean as options for their honeymoon, but they’d never been able to let go of the idea to trek across Africa. So they’d spent the past six weeks wandering through the magical cities of Morocco and the sand dunes of the Sahara by 4x4 before cruising the waterways of Senegal. And at this moment he couldn’t imagine being anywhere else. With anyone else.
He took a sip of his coffee. “How’s your headache?”
Her left brow arched at his question. “I never said I had a headache.”
“You didn’t have to.” He nudged her side with his elbow. She’d never been a good liar. “Taking a couple of pain pills twice in the past eight hours kind of gave it away.”
She dipped her chin, but held his gaze. “You’re far too observant.”
“There are serious issues with climbing, Jodi. You can’t mess around with altitude sickness — ”
“I know all the signs and symptoms and will be careful.” She leaned in against him. “All I need is a good night’s sleep and time to adjust to the altitude.”
He frowned, fearing her stubbornness would get in the way of common sense. Higher altitude meant lower oxygen in the air, and while there were medicines that helped prevent the symptoms, there were no guarantees. And in severe cases, illness could even cause death if the person didn’t descend quickly enough. “Tomorrow’s supposed to be rougher, with eight hours of climbing.” “I’ll be ready.”
The fire popped, and Jodi jumped.
Brandon’s gaze jerked to the tree line surrounding them, looking for signs of movement, but he couldn’t see anything beyond the wind blowing the tree limbs. Neither could he erase Robert’s words of caution replaying in his mind.
While most of their group had already retired to their tents for the evening, several of the men were still up, their laughter mingling with the hushed voices of their guide and porters floating across the breeze from the other side of the camp.
“How serious do you think we should take the threat of an attack?”
“I think Robert’s right, and there’s nothing to worry about.”
Jodi took a sip of her tea. “Maybe, but the thought of rebels attacking the camp . . . Well, it gives me the creeps.”
Brandon wrapped his arm around her and pulled her closer. “Think about it. We’re at almost eight thousand feet. They’d be crazy to trek all this way just for what we have in our packs.”
“On the other hand, it might be worth it.” Jodi nodded toward
Ashley’s tent, which housed every modern electronic invention known to trekkers. “That girl’s got a bigger selection than Sportsman’s Warehouse.”
Brandon chuckled, then kissed the top of her nose. “Forget about Ashley James and the rebels for now. This trip is supposed to be about us and this endless night sky above us.”
“It is beautiful.” Jodi snuggled up against him and leaned her head into his shoulder.
Something snapped behind them. Brandon froze. This time it wasn’t the fire. He stood slowly, blocking Jodi with his body.
She tugged on the edge of his jacket. “What is it?”
“I don’t know.”
Their guide, Mosi, appeared beside them. “Please, go to your tents.”
“Did you see something?”
“It’s probably nothing, but I don’t want to take any chances.”
“Jodi, go to the tent. I’ll stay here in case I’m needed.” She grabbed his arm. “I’m not leaving you here — ”
“Please.”
She hesitated, then slipped into the misty darkness toward their tent. A light flashed fifty yards away. Brandon fumbled in his pockets for something to defend himself with if it came to that and found a flashlight, a Swiss army knife, and an energy bar. Nothing that would save him against an armed rebel.
Something crashed through the dark shadows of the surrounding forest.
Instinctively, Brandon jumped up as five men entered the clearing holding guns.
“Everyone on the ground, now!”
Brandon felt the punch to his gut before he had time to respond. Unable to breathe, he dropped to the ground. He bit back the pain and glanced toward their darkened tent. Jodi was in there, waiting for him to do something . . . anything.
Robert jumped from his tent, flashlight in hand, then stopped short. The air rushed from Brandon’s lungs. One of the rebels had Ashley. Robert swung at her attacker.
A gun went off and Robert dropped to the ground. Ashley screamed. A shot fired from the other side of the camp, then another. If they hurt Jodi . . .
Brandon started to stand, but the butt of a rifle cracked against his head. The threatening figure hovered above him in the dark. Brandon dropped back to the ground, clenching his fists together until his nails bit into his palm. Robert lay motionless in front of his tent. He should have stayed with Jodi.
One by one, tent zippers ripped open. All Jodi needed to do was give them what they wanted and she’d be okay. Once they had what they’d come for they’d leave them alone. They’d be all right. They had to be.
With the cold ground next to his face, he listened to the sounds of men shouting orders and tried to come up with a plan of attack against half a dozen armed men. His only defense was brute force and the anger they’d triggered, but the odds of him taking out armed rebels were still impossible. Instead, he crouched motionless on the ground and waited for an opportunity to move.
Two minutes later it was over as they left as silently as they’d come.
“You okay?” One of the other hikers crept up beside him.
“Robert was hit.”
Brandon shined his flashlight toward Ashley’s tent and quickly bridged the short distance between him and the older man. He’d insisted on a guide who was prepared to deal with medical issues, but no one had expected this.
He dropped down beside Robert. “Where was he hit, Ashley?”
Ashley sat on the ground, rocking back and forth, her eyes wide with terror.
“Ashley?” Brandon felt for a pulse in Robert’s neck.
Ashley gripped his wrist. “It’s too late. He’s dead.”
Mosi stood over them. “What’s happened?”
“He’s dead.”
“One of my porters is dead as well.”
Brandon looked up. Light from the fire caught the alarm on Mosi’s face. By now the four Canadians who made up the rest of their group had gathered at the center of the camp. Someone whimpered in the background. No one, it seemed, knew what to say to the young woman who’d just witnessed the murder of her father.
Mosi turned to address them. “I’m sending a runner down the mountain to the base camp for help, but it’s going to take time. In the meantime, I need everyone to try and stay calm. There is no reason for them to return.”
Brandon shone his flashlight into the crowd. Where was Jodi? “I’ve got to find my wife.” He crossed the cold ground and flipped back the door of his tent.
“Jodi, we’ve got to . . .” He paused in the doorway and shined the light inside the tent. It was empty. “Jodi?”
A cold rain had started, sending drops of water down the back of his neck. He ran to the makeshift bathroom. Nothing. Spinning around, he swung his flashlight back toward the group. The white beam caught the figure of Ashley’s dad. Blood stained the ground and Ashley’s hands, but there was no sign of Jodi.
A wave of panic surged through him. He’d heard what the rebels had done in other parts of the country, and he’d somehow fooled himself into thinking that as tourists they were immune. But these people had burned down villages, killed people, and raped their women.
His lungs constricted.
“Brandon?”
Brandon looked up at their guide. “Jodi’s gone.”