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Authors: Eric Walters

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BOOK: Royal Ransom
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“Maybe,” I agreed. “So, what are you getting at?”

“I just thought that perhaps we could go downstream and investigate.”

“Investigate?” Andrew asked, sounding more than a little anxious.

“Get close to the camp and just look, to see if—”

“Victoria, you must be insane!” Andrew protested. “We cannot go to the camp! Jamie, tell her we cannot do this!”

They both stared at me.

“I just thought that if they're not being watched, perhaps we could free Ray and Albert. It will be days before we'll reach anybody else who can help them. Going now could make the difference for them. The difference between life and death.”

She was right, and I knew it. Even if they were still alive now, that didn't mean they would be alive two or three days from now.

“Still, we cannot go to the camp. It is too dangerous,” Andrew said, in that commanding tone he liked to use.

I nodded my head. “He's right. It is too dangerous for us to go to the camp. That's why I'm going alone.”

Chapter Eighteen

T
HE FLICKERING OF THE FLAMES
from the campfire had been visible for a distance through the trees and brush. This was, at best, a mixed blessing. Obviously it helped guide us to the site, but it also meant that somebody was there tending the fire and guarding Ray and Albert. So much for the faint hope that the person had left.

“This is as close as you two get,” I whispered to Victoria and Andrew. We were still a good fifty metres away from the tents, lying on our bellies, hidden by some bushes.

“This is as close as any of us should get,” Andrew whispered back in warning. “We know somebody is there. Somebody with a gun. Somebody we should avoid meeting. We should just go.”

“We will, but first I need to get a closer look. Don't worry.”

“I am well past worried.”

“Just stay here, and if anything happens then—”

“If there is no need to worry, I should assume that there is no need to believe that anything will go wrong. If something might go wrong, then I believe I am correct to worry,” Andrew said.

“Nothing is going to happen,”
I said. “But if it does— a one-in-a-million chance—then you two need to know what to do.”

“I'm listening,” Victoria said.

“Good. You need to go back up the creek. When it gets light, head for the rapids and down to the lake. Follow along the shore. As long as you keep the lake in sight you can't go wrong or get lost. You follow it for two days and you'll come into my village. Guaranteed.”

“Or else we will be spotted by the search and rescue parties,” Victoria said.

“That's right. We're due back in two days. When we don't show on time they'll almost certainly send somebody out to look for us.”

“Not somebody,” Andrew said. “Lots of somebodies. You have no idea how the head of our security will react if we are more than a few hours late.”

“Even better. Just make sure, before you start waving your arms in the air at a search party, that it isn't the wrong plane, the one with these guys in it,” I warned.

“I hadn't even thought about that,” Victoria said. “How can we tell?”

“Look before you jump out. Make sure you see the plane before you let it see you. Remember that my father's plane is bright orange, because he'll be part of the search party. Now I have to get going.”

I started to get up, but Victoria reached over and grabbed me by the arm. “Please, be careful, Jamie. Please.”

“Careful doesn't even begin to describe it,” I replied.

She released her grip and I stood. I headed even deeper into the woods. My plan was to circle around to the
farthest side of the camp, the place where the trees came closest to the tents. I moved slowly, painfully aware of just how far even a faint noise can travel at night. Just as I thought that, a twig snapped under my foot. I froze in place, not daring to move, hidden within the shadows, not making a sound, listening for anything that might have heard me. There was nothing. Even more carefully I kept going. I could catch more and more flickers of light from the fire as I continued to circle, moving closer.

Finally I came to a spot almost directly behind the tents. The closest tent, the one just in the clearing outside the safety of the trees, the one that held Ray and Albert, was no more than twenty metres in front of me. I focused on the fire. There was nobody sitting by it, but I remembered how they'd previously been hiding in the shadows and appeared only to toss another log onto the fire. Actually, the fire was very low, little more than embers. It had been a long time since a log had been added. Maybe the guard had fallen asleep, leaving the fire to die out. That made sense. Even if somebody was here, he still had to sleep sometime. Sometime like now. He had to be in one of the other tents, sleeping. Maybe I could just—

“Jamie.”

I jumped into the air, spun around and fought not to scream. It was Victoria.

“I am so sorry,” she whispered.

I struggled to catch my breath and get my heart down out of my throat and back into my chest.

“I didn't mean to startle you,” she apologized.

“You didn't startle me, you nearly scared me to death! You shouldn't be here,” I hissed at her.

“I had to come after you. You forgot this.” She handed me my pocketknife.

“Thanks,” I mumbled.

“I thought it might come in handy if you need to cut through the ropes.”

“Sure,” I said as I stuffed it into one of the front pockets of my jeans. “Now you'd better get back to Andrew … quietly.”

She nodded and then started off. I waited and listened. I didn't hear a thing except for the crackling of the fire, the waves hitting the shore, and the chirping of the crickets.

Sure that Victoria was safe, I decided it was time to get closer. Dropping to my knees I began to crawl. As I crawled I could feel the knife in my pocket, digging into my leg. I stopped, reached into my pocket and removed it. I'd keep it in my right hand. I had a strange urge to open it up, revealing the blade, like somehow that would protect me. That was totally stupid. What could an eight-centimetre blade do against a man with a gun? All my knife was good for was digging up roots, or cutting a fish … or cutting ropes … or slicing the back out of a tent … the tent where they were being held prisoner.

A burst of electricity surged up my spine. This was no longer about me just getting close enough to have a look and then running away. This was about me going right up to the back of the tent, making an opening, cutting the ropes and leading Ray and Albert to safety. That plan made my head start to spin. Did I really think I could do that? Then again, why not? And if I did, if I was able to free
them, then I wouldn't be in charge. Ray or Albert could take over. That thought was stronger than any fear I was feeling.

I chose a route where I could crawl through the shadow of the tent right up to the very edge of the woods. Safe within that shadow I'd be hard to see, even if somebody was looking right at me. I crept forward like I was moving in slow motion, not making a sound. I reached the back of the tent and pressed in as close as I could without actually touching the material. I held my breath and listened. Fire crackling … water … leaves rustling … crickets … and breathing. It was coming from the tent. It had to be Ray and Albert.

I peered into the little screen flaps. At first I could see absolutely nothing. Then, little by little, a dark shape started to take form. Then I saw a second body. It had to be them.

“Ray!” I whispered as loud as I dared. There was no answer. “Albert!” I waited. Nothing.

I couldn't risk calling out any louder. I'd have to get closer. I brought my right hand up and opened the blade. I pushed the tip in through the nylon and it easily penetrated. I stopped. Somehow it just didn't seem right to destroy a tent. That was probably the silliest thought I'd ever had. It wasn't like I was doing this for fun.

I started to pull the knife down, holding the tent with my free hand. The blade easily slipped through the material until there was a slit all the way to the ground. I repositioned the knife at the top and began a horizontal cut. The nylon gave way easily and a large triangular flap was created.

I stuck my head into the tent. There was no movement but I could hear them breathing more clearly, and they were slightly more visible because there was a bigger trickle of light coming through the flap. I could see Ray's face. Albert was turned away from me. I took the knife and made the third cut and a new door was created. I crawled into the tent.

It was funny, but I suddenly felt safer. Maybe it was because I was inside the tent and out of view. Maybe it was just being close to Ray. I'd untie him and then he'd take care of everything.

I moved closer to Ray, bent down and put my mouth close to his ear. “Ray … Ray.” There was no answer. Gently I shook his shoulder and his eyes popped wide open. He looked like I'd woken him from a nightmare, like he was just about to scream out in fear. Then his expression softened.

“Jamie?” he whispered, his voice hoarse and faint and questioning. “Is that you?”

“Yeah, it's me.” Of course it was me.

“Are you real?”

What was I supposed to answer to that?

“Is this a dream?” he asked, his voice getting louder.

“No,” I whispered. “It's real. I'm real. I'm here to rescue you.”

“You are?”

“Ssshhhhh!” I hissed. “Keep your voice down.”

He nodded. “I need water … do you have any water?”

“Not with me. You can have some as soon as we escape. Let me cut the ropes and—”

Suddenly I was shoved from behind and the whole tent exploded in brightness. I looked back, shielding my eyes with my hands. All I could see was a brilliantly bright flashlight and the tip of a gun pointed at me!

Chapter Nineteen

“D
ROP YOUR WEAPON
!” a voice screamed out.

Weapon? What was he talking about?

“Drop your knife!” he screamed.

Oh, my knife. I let it fall to the ground.

Someone reached in and grabbed me by the front of my shirt. He pulled me up and dragged me away from the tent. His power and my helplessness to resist shocked me. He threw me down to the ground in a heap.

“Where are the others?” he demanded.

I didn't answer.

“Where are the girl and boy?”

I lay there in shock, the bright light still aimed right at me, blinding me. All at once I felt a searing jolt of pain in my side and I was rocketed backwards. He'd kicked me!

“Where are they?” he demanded. “Tell me now before I get angry!” His voice was now quiet and ominous. He took the end of the gun and poked it in my stomach. Didn't he know you should never point a gun at somebody in case it accidentally … What was I thinking? Of course he knew that.

“Are you prepared to die for them, boy?” he asked.

“I … um … um …” I stammered. I didn't know what he expected or wanted me to say. I just knew I didn't want him to kick me again.

“You are protecting two members of the ruling class. Do you think that the Royal Family has ever done anything for your people? For the Native people?” he demanded. “They took away your land and exploited your people, just as they have exploited people around the world!”

Again I remained silent, but I thought about his voice, his accent. He sounded just like Albert, or Andrew, or Victoria … or Nigel. If I wanted to stay calm, it was probably better not to think about Nigel.

“Your loyalty is admirable, but misguided. Do you think that either one of those children would be so loyal to you? Do you?” he asked as he poked the gun harder into my gut.

“I don't know.”

“Well I do!” he snapped. “I'll show you the answer.”

He withdrew the gun from my stomach.

“Hello!” he yelled, and I flinched. “I know you're out there. Your friend is my prisoner now!”

There was nothing but silence. It seemed as if even the waves had stopped hitting the shore to listen to what he had to say.

“Your friend is fine … but he won't be fine for long!” He paused, and I waited for him to complete that ominous thought. “In fifteen seconds I am going to kill him!”

The hairs on the back of my neck suddenly sprang up.

“That is, if you do not give yourselves up! Do you understand?”

I definitely understood what he meant.

“You are about to see that they are not prepared to sacrifice themselves for you,” he said quietly to me.

“But they might not even be close enough to—”

“You'd better hope they are!” he snapped. “Fifteen, fourteen, thirteen, twelve …”

This was crazy. He didn't really mean it, did he? This had to be some sort of bluff.

“Eleven, ten, nine—”

“Please, you can't—”

“Quiet!” he snapped.

This wasn't a bluff. He really was going to kill me if they didn't appear, or I didn't tell him where they were. I knew they were probably heading up the creek. I could tell him. I could, but I wasn't going to.

“Eight, seven, six—”

“I'm over here!” Andrew yelled out.

I looked over my shoulder. The flashlight beam was aimed at him. He had just come out of the bushes on the far side of the clearing. His hands were above his head. He moved into the clearing and then stopped.

“Where is the Princess?” the man demanded. “Where is your sister?”

I was wondering that myself. It wasn't like Victoria to quit, she wouldn't have just run away and deserted her brother and me.

“She isn't here,” Andrew answered. “She has an injury. I think her leg is broken. Can you help her?”

She must have got hurt when she was trying to get back to him after giving me the knife, I thought.

BOOK: Royal Ransom
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