Mating Fever (17 page)

Mosquitoes nagged their exposed flesh, adding
to the misery of the jungle. Something bit his arm, or at least, he
thought something had. A sudden nagging sting shot fire into his
bicep and shoulder. Fucking mosquitoes were big enough here to suck
through their clothing.

“Mosquitoes are monsters out here,” he
grumbled.

Dante grinned in the dark, flashing his
teeth. “Reminds me of the swamp back home.”

“Doesn’t feel like we’re that far off it. I
don’t know how you stand living there,” Lucas said, punching him in
the shoulder.

“Home’s home,” Dante said and shrugged,
heading further into the jungle.

With all the discomfort, nothing compared to
the tension of expecting an attack from behind, of getting shot in
the back when they least expected it. His nerves felt as tight as a
guide wire.

If he’d been uneasy before, he was downright
nervous as hell now. He didn’t quite feel like himself, but chalked
it up to the strangeness of the situation. It didn’t sit well that
no one noticed a drone crashing into the jungle or choppers coming
to pick it back up.

He held up a fist and called for a halt.
Pulling out the map and checking the compass, they were only
halfway to the pickup point.

“Another five clicks,” he said to the
group.

As he slid the map back in his vest pocket, a
sharp crack erupted through the jungle.

They all hit the dirt, scrambling through the
underbrush and taking cover behind a giant, fallen tree covered
with moss.

His men followed, searching the jungle.

“Where the fuck did that come from?” Zach
said, hefting his gun and peering over the log.

“I saw a flash just over there,” Lucas said,
pointing.

Something flashed and a bullet exploded from
the trunk of a tree nearby. The group fired on the site, eliciting
a cry as they hit their target and enemy returned fire.

“Head out and rotate. You three keep the rear
and when we get into position, we’ll cover you,” Zach said,
motioning to them.

Slowly, they began their retreat. He couldn’t
keep track of how much time had passed or if they were making any
headway with the guerrillas dogging them. He couldn’t afford not to
reach their destination on time. There was only so much allowance
for them to get to the pickup. If they arrived too late, they might
not get home at all.

And that was something he wasn’t going to
risk.

“Pick up the pace,” he ground out, when he
thought they were close enough to their heading to make it there
without being slaughtered.

Distantly, he thought he heard water crashing
on the beach.

“Run for the beach! It’s just ahead!” Zach
yelled, motioning his men forward for all out retreat.

They half crouched, ducking and running
through the jungle before they could be hit with return fire.
Bursting through the overgrowth, they landed on the beach,
moonlight streaming down like a spotlight on them.

The ripped off their night-vision, scouring
the beach until they spotted the boat and ran for it.

Sand split into the air from whizzing
bullets. Dante and Lucas landed in the dirt, laying cover fire
while the others ran for the boat, holding the guerillas back.

Something crawled all over Zach’s skin,
burning him alive. He felt like a flesh-eating virus was devouring
him from the outside in, and wondered if he’d gone through a bed of
fire ants or managed to get bit by some jungle creature he hadn’t
noticed. Heat made his head swim.

He fought the feeling off, shaking his
head.

Friendly fire erupted from the boat, giving
them cover.

They crawled frantically, watching as it
shoved off into the water.

The peel of gunfire was deafening, sounding
like fireworks going off around them. Acrid smoke filled the air,
clouding their view and choking the breath from their lungs. Zach,
Dante, and Lucas moved into the water to swim for the retreating
boat.

Hampered by their heavy packs, it took every
ounce of energy and strength to cut through the water. Weariness
settled into Zach, dragging him down.

All around, screams of terror and pain ripped
from men’s throats.

The salt water made the burning of his skin
intensify. He felt his gloves soak, felt the cuts on his hand seem
to catch on fire.

A surge of energy pushed him on, and he
caught the edge of the boat. Someone grabbed his arm, yanking him
inside and nearly wrenching his arm out of socket.

His lungs collapsed, breathless as he hit the
metal bottom and someone slammed into his body.

Anger and rage exploded from him like a
living thing. He screamed and fought the man off him, ripping
through flesh with teeth and nails, feeling something inhuman take
control of his mind, leaving only base animal behind.

A bullet caught him in the back, slamming him
down again, enraging him further as Dante and Lucas joined the
fray.

Dimly, above the blood roaring in his ears,
he could hear someone calling into their radio for backup.
“Something’s wrong with the men! Mayday! Under attack from the
beach--”

The panicked voice was suddenly cut off.

The coppery scent of blood filled Zach’s
nostrils. Sucking in a deep breath, Zach fought off his attacker
and looked frantically for another. The boat writhed with men and
bodies, blood and death.

Dante was at his side, fighting another man
off, looking wild and not himself. Lucas growled like an animal,
ripping off his pack as bullets slammed into his shoulder from
above.

The sound of a helicopter flooded through the
melee. Zach looked up at the descending chopper, the rope ladder
hanging down. He launched himself at it, scrambling up the rope
with inhuman speed.

Dimly, he recognized that something was wrong
with him, something he couldn’t explain. Rage had taken a hold of
his mind, crowding out rational thought, leaving sanity behind in
favor of death and destruction. He was incapable of controlling
himself—could only continue on, fighting, looking for flesh to rip
apart.

He heaved himself into the body of the
chopper. The pale face of a man came into view, distorted by
terror. Fear, thick and cloying enveloped the space. He stared down
the man, bowing up and then roared when bullets slammed into his
body, knocking him out of the bay and into the air.

Wind rushed by him as he fell, and when he
hit the water, blackness swallowed him whole.

***

She’d come to Cuba to procure cancer
treatment medicine that the organization her friends worked for
could no longer afford to provide for free to patients that needed
it. As much as Jasmine distrusted foreign countries and their
medical practices, it was hard to turn someone down who was dying
and couldn’t afford the medicine to keep themselves or their
children alive.

She’d lost her mother and brother to cancer,
so she knew the familiar pain of loss and hope—the exorbitant cost
of trying to keep your loved ones alive.

When she’d been approached to make the pickup
with her father’s yacht, rather than shying away, she’d seen it as
her duty to help those in need. She’d never been needed before,
never had a chance to do something good for another person, and she
thought this was her one chance to do something great.

Even if it was, technically, illegal
according to the United States government.

She just didn’t feel guilty about it
like she would have if she was smuggling illegal narcotics into the
country. She wasn’t
that
kind
of drug smuggler, for god’s sake.

Nerves cramped Jasmine’s stomach, tying it
into knots and making her feel like she could pass out from
hyperventilation at any moment.

She’d been waiting off the coast, anchored
just outside Cuban waters all day. She’d left while the sun was
still down from Miami, hoping she could have this done within a
reasonable time period and avoid detection by the coast guard.

She’d begun regretting her decision ever
since she’d arrived and no one was there to meet her with the
packages.

Her nerves had only grown with every passing
hour, and when dusk approached and she’d still gotten no sign,
she’d really begun rethinking her motives for coming here. It was
all well to think she was going to help save someone’s life. It was
a different matter altogether to wonder if she’d been setup.

She’d pretended to fish most of the day. The
other half, she’d sunbathed, waiting and waiting and waiting. As
the sun dipped in the sky, turning the clouds to pink and amber,
then violet, she was pretty sure something had happened on the
opposite end of the spectrum to call the whole thing off.

That was when the quiet she’d enjoyed all day
suddenly erupted into chaos.

The horn of a boat blared, breaking the
silence of the night.

Jasmine rolled off the deck into the belly of
the boat, her mind racing with excuses for why she was still there
at night. She didn’t have any incriminating evidence on her—not
yet.

Kanye rapping from her ipod dock wasn’t
enough to cover the sounds of activity and alarm from somewhere in
the dark. Jasmine lifted her head over the railing, expecting the
coast guard to come barreling down after her. She couldn’t see shit
in the dark, however.

She’d forgotten to bring her glasses. She
hadn’t really expected to be here this long and hadn’t been as
prepared as she would’ve liked. She was blind as a bat in the
dark.

“Think, Jas. Think. You were fishing and
scuba diving and are just waiting on some friends. Fuck, that
doesn’t sound believable since it’s already dark!”

She scanned the horizon again, swallowing
hard when she caught a flashing burst of light and the rapid sound
of gunfire.

Jasmine just about peed herself when she saw
military boats brimming with guns and soldiers bearing down in her
direction.

“Oh my god!” she shrieked, scrambling for her
shorts lying somewhere in the boat. The key was in the front
pocket.

Sheer terror made her sluggish. She needed to
get the hell out of there before they saw her small yacht and
arrested her for whatever reason they could think of.

Horns blared again, making her jump as she
grabbed her shorts. She looked up, thinking they’d spotted her.
Instead, she saw men swimming away from the boats.

It had to be refugees.

That was almost enough to calm her down, but
just barely.

Finally finding the key, she charged to the
pilot deck, scrambling to push the key into the ignition. She
slammed her hand down on the anchor retractor button, then started
the engine, hoping the sound didn’t draw attention.

She pulled the boat around, panic setting
in.

Behind her, she heard the wet smack of a body
as it tumbled into the deck.

The hair on the back of her neck stood on
end. Three men had landed inside the boat. They were mostly naked
and slick with water, panting and gasping.

Jasmine muffled her shriek with her hand.

She might as well not have bothered. Three
heads swiveled in her direction, their gazes landing on her like a
firebrand.

She screamed then, looking frantically around
for a weapon. She couldn’t have escapees from some military prison
on her boat—especially with no good reason why she was out here in
the first place.

She was going to get caught and go to some
jail where she’d never see the light of day again. Be tortured and
who knew what else.

She made a dash for the cabin, hoping she
could lock herself below and maybe the boats chasing them would
just gather them back up. But she had to run by the men first.

Jasmine moved, seeing the men seemed frozen
momentarily by her presence. Her movement snapped them out of
immobility.

Her hope withered and died when some
wild-eyed black haired beast grabbed her and snatched her back. He
manacled his hands around her arms, pinning her against the
deck.

Simultaneously, gunfire erupted around them.
Wood splintered from the deck like pop rocks.

The man who’d grabbed her covered her with
his body, crushing the breath from her lungs. She grunted.

“Take control of the boat, Lucas!” the man
crushing the life out of her yelled. Her eardrums rattled.

The boat took a wide arc in the water, making
them roll on the deck as Lucas took control of the boat.

The man holding her captive snatched her to
her feet, scanned the deck, then dragged her down to leap through
the open hatch she’d initially tried to escape to.

Jasmine grunted, feeling pain seep into her
arms from misuse and unfamiliar action.

Dog tags hanging from his neck, the black
haired stranger whipped his head around, scanning the cabin.