Excerpt from Eco Bastards and Other Assassins

Prologue

Colombia, Thursday, September 17

Travis

For the first time since arriving in this godforsaken place, Travis was glad that Caryanne was not there. In the 647 days since he left Indiana, he had only thought of her a few hundred times a day – how much he missed her; how much more fun this would have been if she had come along; how they would have laughed about this; how she would have cried about that. At least she hadn’t married that boob Danny. She hadn’t married anyone yet, which meant he still had a chance. Maybe a big chance. She had been writing to him faithfully since he left and was even planning to come visit him in a few month--if he was still alive .

One decision. One action had changed his life forever, maybe ended it altogether. Was it bravery? Or desperation? Definitely insanity. Was it the move toward making his dreams come true or a reckless risk that would ruin everything? No way to know until he reached his destination.

He held his breath and held himself as still as possible. Was that a footstep overhead? He strained his ears to hear above the hammering of his heart. It was. Sounded like only one man this time stepping through the tall grass. Go away! Go away! Go away! he wished. The footsteps came to a halt at the tip of the ledge overhanging the tiny cave entrance. “Travis,” a male voice yelled, echoing over the neighboring mountainside.

He knew that voice. It belonged to a man he considered his friend until two days ago. “Travis! Are you out there?” A long pause. Feet scrabbled in the loose pebbles, sending a few tumbling over the edge and into an abyss. “Are you okay, buddy? Can you hear me?” Travis trembled and his breath became rapid and shallow. He maintained his silence, repeating his wish internally for several minutes until he got his fear response back under control.

Movement to his left jarred him back to the present and into high alert status. He reached out to Nacio, placing one hand gently on the boy’s chest and a finger on his lips to indicate the need for silence. Nacio went rigid with fear, then slowly relaxed and nodded. Travis pointed above them, then pantomimed walking away with his fingers.

Nacio sat up and nodded. He cupped a hand and tilted it toward his lips, a silent request for water. Travis shook his head. Nacio cast his eyes downward in resignation, then lay back down and curled up on his side. Travis patted him reassuringly on the shoulder. He hoped Nacio hadn’t seen his parents among the bodies scattered on the hillside above them. The boy was obviously traumatized and hadn’t said a word since they entered the cave.

Travis covered his ears and tried to return to his happy place. Caryanne waiting for him when he gets off the plane home. Caryanne laughing at his stupid jokes. He and Caryanne playing in the sun with their children in an open sunny playground. He imagined they had two girls and a boy. When he tried to picture their smiles, all he could see were faces of the dead villagers crowding into the edges of his vision. It was no use. He couldn’t get there from here. The horror of what he’d seen stood firmly in his way, pushing his mind back to the present and his predicament.

The footsteps withdrew after a few moments and marched southward across the rocky cliff. Travis drew in a deep breath of humid, pungent air, doing his best to maintain his sanity. He didn’t think he had ever been more uncomfortable in his life, and that was saying something. Since the Peace Corps had shipped him to the rainforests of South America, he had endured the constant heat and damp of the tropics, been tortured by every variety of insect on the continent, shivered through torrential rains, and suffered gastrointestinal distress from the food and water. Now, being confined in the small, stony interior of this cave chilled him to the core, while conversely, the hot, humid air kept him drenched in sweat. He wasn’t sure he could still walk after two days cramped in here. He clenched his teeth against the pain of his hourly ritual of tightening his muscles and moving his limbs as far as possible in the tiny space. Circulation was key to survival. But it was only one piece of the huge puzzle to getting out of this alive. He needed a plan.

They had two bananas and a cherimoya fruit. They had no more water. They needed to move. Tonight. The jungle was a dangerous place at night. It was unlikely the men would return to search for them then. So now all he had to do was figure out how to hack their way through 22 miles and a millennium of forest undergrowth without leaving a trail. At night. In the jungle. He bit back his fear and stifled an involuntary tremble. Anything would be better than staying here. He both wished for and dreaded the oncoming darkness of nightfall.

                                                           * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Dom
Dom walked south along the cliff face. The heat and humidity were oppressive, even for someone in top physical condition like him. After two days of searching, he looked and felt exhausted. He hated the rainforest, the claustrophobic feeling of the vines seemingly grabbing at you, the overbearing fetid smell of decaying vegetation. Considering how much he despised it, he was amazed to realize how much of the last decade he’d spent in places just like this; third-world jungles, doing jobs no one else was willing to do.

This job was critical. It was imperative that he find Travis now. The consequences were not something he was willing to consider. He stopped a little further on and yelled again in vain. Using his binoculars, he scanned high and low, from the treetop canopy all the way to the river hundreds of feet below. No sign of movement. No underbrush broken in a hasty retreat. Damn! He continued to stop along the cliff line to yell, scan, and listen. Still no response.

Trudging back into the forest, he soon came upon Travis’s tent on the outer ring of the village. He pulled a bandana up over his face to hold back the stench of the decaying bodies. What a mess! And what a waste. If only the chief had packed up and left when Gary told him to, none of this would have happened.

Dom inspected his friend’s belongings, looking for a clue, hoping for a sign he was still alive. He took the packet of letters from Caryanne that Travis had been saving and a few pictures of his family and friends. There wasn’t much else left. He rifled through a plastic storage container and paused. He was sure there had been water purification tablets in here two days ago when he first searched his belongings. He’s alive! His strength renewed, Dom decided to check the rest of the village for other essential survival items that may have gone missing.

Outside, he spotted a fellow American about fifty feet away. Gary looked like a Viking among his group of South American thugs. They were all heavily armed, some bearing large gas cans. As he approached them, Dom did his best to avert his eyes from the mass of bodies. Encountering a whole village that had been massacred two days ago was not for the weak of heart. It was definitely not something he ever wanted to experience again.

Gary waved him over, and they began to walk away from the scene. He turned around, circling a finger in the air, and yelled, “Light ‘em up!” The men began dumping gas across the whole area.

Dom’s head jerked up, and he put a hand on Gary’s arm. “But we haven’t found him yet!”

“Sorry, bro. I can’t wait any longer. Got to finish this thing up.” Dom knew it was useless to argue. His stomach did a flip-flop. He needed to find Travis – alive. His last hopes of that would soon be gone. He could see the sun setting across the next ridge and knew Gary was right. The crackle of flames became a roar as the fire spread quickly through the demolished village. Dom scanned the area one more time before getting in his jeep and getting the hell out of there while he still could.

                                                 * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Travis
Travis heard the roar of the fire before the first wisps of smoke made their way down the ledge into the cave. Unable to procrastinate any longer, he and Nacio gathered their few possessions and made their way out onto the narrow ledge. The sun had set, but the flames provided enough light to see where they needed to go. Fortunately, the wind was blowing most of the smoke away from them. They needed to make their way down the treacherous path before the light ran out. It was 200 feet to the bottom of the gorge.

He prayed no one was crazy enough to stay behind in a forest fire, just to see if it flushed him from his hiding spot. Maybe now they would give up and leave him for dead. Being considered dead was his best chance of staying alive long enough to get justice for the 67 people in his village. Now, they only needed to avoid the four-legged predators and venomous creatures of the jungle long enough to get to the village where Nacio’s uncle lived. Piece of cake.  


Part One

Tuesday, November 8

Caryanne
Moving stealthily, the huntress carefully picked her way around a giant fern, hunkered down behind a clump of small tropical trees, and waited for her prey. She patiently scanned the densely leafed area. Breathing deeply, she settled into a more comfortable stance. Small sounds came from everywhere, a cacophony pulling her attention in all directions. My god, what am I doing in this jungle? she silently asked herself. It was madness to come here.

Distractedly, she pulled a leaf from her long, dark hair. How will I ever find him in this chaos? She debated moving to another vantage point but decided she already had the best view. Her nerves grew taut as she did another survey of the area. No sign of him anywhere. Time for a new game plan. Bending low to avoid detection, she surreptitiously patted the heavy bulge in her pocket and snaked her way back to a more quiet and secure hiding place.

A vibration near her hip prompted Caryanne to retrieve her cellphone. Not now! I have to think. She rejected the call; the phone was halfway to her pocket when it buzzed again. A text from Briana: “How’s it going?”

Unnerved, Caryanne jabbed fiercely at the keys as she texted back: I can’t do this. She took in her surroundings and started working on an exit strategy. This is ridiculous, she thought as she crept back through the massive containers of plants lining the hallway of the busy restaurant and ducked into the ladies' room. The dark slate tile walls gave the illusion of being safely tucked into a cave.

Letting out a huge sigh of relief, she turned to face herself in the bathroom mirror. You can do this. An attractive woman in her late twenties stared back at her, stylishly dressed for a business happy hour at a trendy bar near the Capitol Building in Indianapolis. A woman acting like a child and twitching like a scared jackrabbit. The phone lit up in her hand, bringing her back to her senses and her present dilemma.

Text from Briana: “What? He’s all you’ve talked about for 2 weeks! Don’t lose your nerve now. Get in there and reel him in!”

She’s right. Pull yourself together. Caryanne tapped her last reserves of courage, patted her hair back into place and reapplied her lipstick. Drawing her shoulders back, she was out the door, back down the narrow hall to the bar, and….. back behind the topiary.

The place was filled to capacity with a sea of black and blue suits, business professionals of all ages, all there to connect. Chasing big money deals, planning tentative small-scale start-ups, or just looking for love – everyone here was already with someone. Amid heavy wood tables and granite bar tops, jazz played annoyingly over hidden speakers, glasses and silverware clinked, and people talked loudly to be heard above it all. She covertly scanned every person in the room, but still no familiar face.

There was one man by himself at the bar. Dark hair, right height. She stepped from behind the ficus tree she’d been hiding behind and took a step in his direction. He turned his head to the side, and she could see jowls and a middle age paunch. Too old. Too soft. Definitely not her man. She stepped back again to dodge a waitress with a heavy tray of drinks. What the Hell am I doing here? She texted Briana back: “I CANNOT DO THIS.”

Briana responded quickly: “Calm down. You know this guy. He could be ‘The One’. You’ve been out with him twice and spent hours texting in between. You even had sex with him once! The most mind-blowing night of your life, you said. Now, suck it up. Get your ass in there and have dinner with this man!”

Biting her nail, Caryanne scanned the room once more, then sagged against the wall in defeat. “You don’t understand. I can’t.” She ended the conversation with her best friend: “I don’t know what he looks like.”

A moment later, Caryanne made a hasty exit through a back door that led into a darkened alley. She was already several yards away when she heard the door close behind her and realized what a bad idea this was.

“Hey!” a male voice barked.

Damn. Very bad idea. The sound of gravel crunching beneath a heavy foot a few yards behind her made Caryanne pick up her pace. Look confident. She tried to make herself look taller. Still about 100 feet from the well-lit road and hopefully safety, she reached into her purse and fished for her keys, her nail file, or anything that could be considered a weapon. Footsteps quickened behind her, gaining ground.

“Wait!” the man shouted. Knowing she had no hope of outrunning her pursuer, Caryanne spun around, kicked off both high heels, and grabbed one before it hit the ground. With ninja quickness, she held it above her head, spike-side forward. The powerful male figure looming in front of her pulled up short.

“Whoa!” The man held up his hands in surrender while taking a cautious step forward. Adrenaline pumping, she gripped the shoe tighter and tensed for an attack.

“Caryanne? Is that you?” He took another careful step toward her. Only a few feet between them now.

“Jake?” Caryanne asked tremulously. The man took another step forward. Light fell across high, sharp cheekbones. He was gorgeous. No. He was not that good looking. Maybe it was just the adrenaline pumping, but at that moment he was the most attractive man she had ever seen. Maintaining her defensive pose, her whole body perceptibly loosened. “Is that you, Jake?” her voice quavered.

Dom smiled wickedly. “Yes, it’s me. I’m Jake.”  

Two Weeks Earlier, Monday, October 24

Caryanne
A bonfire crackled energetically, taking the bite out of a crisp autumn night. The plumes of fire did little to light up the moonless Indiana landscape. The twang of Kenny Chesney on a beat-up boombox could barely be heard over the sound of crickets. Caryanne enjoyed the cool, sweet taste of her second wine cooler of the evening. It was the first drink she’d had in 2 years. She missed the heady feeling of a slight buzz, the confidence it gave you. She took a long, slow sip and gazed into the fire. Truth be told, she missed a lot of things. Her old house. Her old life. Danny. The parties they used to have. No. What I really miss is the old me.

Briana sat down on the bale of hay beside her and tapped the toe of her new cowboy boot against one of Caryanne’s. “What are you looking so serious about?”

Caryanne jumped to her feet. Holding her hands above her head, she snaked her hips in a figure eight. “Dancing!” She giggled and grabbed Briana’s free hand, pulling her up, too. “Let’s find the DJ. This music sucks!”

They were on their way to liven things up when they heard someone shout, “Last call for the last hayride tonight!” Without missing a beat, they did a 180 and got to the wagon just as the tractor shifted into gear. Briana got there first and hopped on the narrow ledge at the rear. She clung to the rail and a man helped her up and into the wagon. The vehicle lurched forward, then advanced a few feet at a snail’s pace. The engine snorted, coughed out a cloud of diesel and picked up speed. Caryanne trotted just behind, holding onto the rail, trying to get the timing right to jump up behind her friend.

Their host, a beefy man named Chugs who’d had a few too many beers, jogged up beside her as her foot landed on the step. “Well giddy-up there, little lady, and let me give you a hand.” He put a huge hand on her bottom and launched her onto the wagon like a sack of potatoes. Caryanne narrowly missed planting her face in the lap of an unknown cowboy, catching herself with her hands on either side of his hips. She searched the sudden darkness as the wagon plodded into a cornfield and smiled at where she thought his face should be.
“That was a close one,” she sighed. “Let me introduce…” The wagon hit a huge bump. Caryanne’s hands slid out from under her on the loose hay and her chin came down hard on the soft place between his legs. A howl pierced the night. Two hands held her head a few inches above his painful place to avoid another blow.

As his outburst dwindled into a painful moan, the hay kicked up during the scuffle settled in a thick blanket over the pair. She held her breath, desperately fighting the tickling sensation in her nose. When he finally loosened his grip a fraction, she gasped for air, resulting in a huge sneeze. Her forehead hit his sore appendage again. He pushed her away and yelped in pain.

Caryanne sat up abruptly. “I’m so sorry!” she gushed. Without thinking, she placed both hands gently on his throbbing member. “What can I do?” He took both her hands in a firm grip.

Simultaneously laughing and moaning, he said, “Sweetheart, I think you’ve done quite enough.”

                                                           * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Jake
Jake had hoped she would be at this party. It was a long shot. Ever since he saw her on the street in front of the City-County Building when he got to town six days ago, he had been waiting, watching, learning her routine: where she went in her off time, what she liked to do. She is the key. Everything hinged on her.

Tonight was his second attempt at a meeting. The first one fizzled when she failed to show up at her usual Monday lunch spot. Disappointed, he had stayed, ordered a sandwich and figured out his next move. That’s when he lucked out. He recognized one of her coworkers at the next table.

Jake shamelessly pretended to read the newspaper he had brought along for a prop and listened in on the conversation. The guy (Shawn, was it?) talking about a group of them going to this big bonfire/kegger party tonight at some farm market just outside of town. Jake figured he could get Joe from work to come along. If there was beer involved, Joe would be happy to ride shotgun.

The plan unraveled from the start. It cost him an hour to track down the location of the party. That idiot Shawn had used the wrong name for the farm market. Then Joe complained he would miss a hockey game on TV that night. It cost him a twelve-pack to persuade him this would be more fun. It was worth it, though. He needed a sidekick at this sort of function to look legit.

Then they got stuck in a traffic jam. Some accident on the county road leading to the farm; a guy on a motorcycle got creamed by a pickup truck. Emergency services worked for an hour to get it cleaned up enough to let traffic through again. He was glad they had airlifted the guy out before they got there. It looked really bad.

They finally arrived just when the last hayride of the evening was announced. He took a chance she might be there. If not, he would find her at the bonfire afterward. Joe was a bloodhound for beer. He nabbed a couple of cold ones, and they got seats in the last wagon. There were three flatbed wagons hitched behind a huge farm tractor pointed toward a dark field sheared of its corn a few weeks before.

Each wagon was lined around the sides with bales of hay and had lots of loose material mounded inside to sit on. He nestled himself and looked around for Caryanne. It was so dark that he could make out little more than vague shapes of the other passengers. He wasn’t sure he could have recognized Joe, who was sitting right next to him.

This close to his goal, he got nervous about his plan. He worried about what he would do if she didn’t show up. Then he worried about what to do if she did. He really wanted – no, needed – to meet her, talk with her, be with her. He hoped she would actually be there; hoped he could somehow bump into her, casually start a conversation, work his way in to seeing her again soon. The darkness was intimidating in its totality. How could he find her even if she was on this wagon, much less one of the other two? This was a terrible idea.

And then boom! There she was. She literally fell right into his lap. And it hurt so bad he couldn’t breathe.

Once he finally caught his breath, he realized he was still gripping her hands in his. Touching her was electric. He felt that old tingle. It had been a long time since he’d been with a woman he really cared about. Or any woman as far as that goes. I wish I could see her now. He could not remember it ever being so dark. The headlights of the tractor all the way in front of the first wagon were barely visible back here in the third. He knew it was her, though. No doubt in his mind. He knew her voice, that laugh. This is your one big chance. Do NOT blow it.

“Well, now that you know all my secrets, so to speak,” he said, loosening his grip but still holding her hands, “why don’t you tell me your name?” He spoke with a Chicago accent, something you heard a lot in Indiana, and that he’d been practicing all week.

He felt her hands go limp at the sound of his voice. She stuttered, “I, I, I’m Caryanne.” He felt her eyes searching in the dark for some hint of the man with whom she was sharing this moment of intimacy.

“Caryanne,” her name rolled over his tongue like hot caramel. “You have a beautiful name and a beautiful voice.” He could feel heat radiating from her. Was she blushing? Was she feeling the same hot flood of butterflies he was? It was too much. “Wish I could say you have a beautiful sense of timing and balance, too, but maybe we can work on that later.”

She picked up an armful of hay, dumped it over his head, and laughed as she tried to scramble away. He caught her just in time to stuff a handful of hay down the back of her shirt. Caryanne squealed and shimmied to get it out. They came at each other again with more handfuls of hay, but it was so dark that they missed, bumped heads hard and fell back on their behinds, half laughing, half crying.

“Are you okay?” he asked, still holding his head.

“No thanks to you, big ox!” He thought she was still laughing but could not be sure.

“That’s Jake to you.” He reached out a hand in her general direction, a conciliatory gesture. “Here, let me help you up.” He saw a flash that looked like a ring and grasped it. Caryanne screamed. Oops! That was definitely not her hand. Must have been a button? On her breast pocket? He released his grip a split second later than he should have. “Sorry! Sorry!” He pleaded, falling back while she slapped at him.

She was standing on her knees above him. He couldn’t tell if she was actually mad or still playing. The wagon hit another bump and she fell on him again. This time, fortunately, they were face to face. “Now that’s more like it!” he joked. Then he kissed her before she had time to object. A second later, his arms were around her. God, this feels so good! He couldn’t help himself. He kissed her again more deeply. Suddenly, she was returning his kiss with unexpected passion. They paused a moment for air.

“You have a beard.” She whispered as she stroked his face with her fingertips. “I’ve never kissed a man with a beard before.”

“How do you like it?”

“I’m not sure. I’d better try it again.” And with that, she ran her hand through his hair, cupped the back of his neck and drew him to her. She tasted sweet like berries. The hay tickled and scratched beneath him. She felt so perfect in his arms. He was lost. He forgot all the time spent stalking her. He forgot all his troubles. He was just there, in the moment, enjoying every sensation for the first time in such a long, long time – maybe ever. They lay there like that, in perfection, for what felt like a long and happy lifetime, but was in reality only several minutes.

“Wow.” It wasn’t much, but it was all he could say. He stroked her hair and she nestled against him.

“Yeah. Wow.” They lay there another moment. Caryanne lifted her face to his. “Can we do that again?”

Jake kissed her well and thoroughly, leaving her breathless and speechless. He held her close. This was so much greater than he had dreamed. “Again?”

She brought her lips to his. There was a loud cough and a boot heel dug into his kidney. “Ow!”

“The ride is almost over and there will be lights again soon. Just sayin’,” said Briana. Jake had forgotten about the roommate and everyone else in the whole goddamn world for that matter.

“Great. Now I can see just what I’ve gotten myself into,” Jake teased. “Oh. Wait, that didn’t sound right. I mean…”

Caryanne pinched him and he jerked away, laughing. She sat up and started plucking hay from her hair. “And I can see what kind of hairy ape…” He silenced her with a kiss. She didn’t seem to mind. They sat there a moment. She snuggled against his side, and he held her close. A foul plume of diesel exhaust settled over them as the driver downshifted to a stop.

There was no light here, or at least very little. Everyone had to feel their way out of the wagon and baby step their way either back to the bonfire to collect their belongings or straight to the parking lot. The party was over. When Jake descended the ladder, he found Briana and Caryanne a few feet away, brushing the rest of the hay from their clothes. Joe was a couple feet behind them, still nursing a longneck.

“Where to now?” Jake asked the two young women. He waved Joe over to them. “Joe and I were thinking of stopping by…”

“Home,” Caryanne interjected. “It’s late and we really should be…”

“We could probably go for…” Briana preempted her friend.

“Home.” Caryanne stated again. “I’m tired. Maybe another time.” She turned to go, but Briana didn’t move.

Jake was scrambling to figure out what went wrong. “Um … okay. Can I have your number?” He fished his phone from his pocket.

“I don’t know…” Caryanne was signaling Briana her friend that it was time to get moving, but Briana either couldn’t see her or was ignoring the hint.

“I do.” Briana took Jake’s phone and tapped in Caryanne’s cell number. “Call her,” she whispered. “Soon.”

                                                   * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Caryanne
Caryanne studied Jake by the dim red glow of the tractor taillights. It was too dark to make out much. He was tall, maybe 6 feet, and had a nice nose, what she could see of it. Kind, wide-set eyes, little laugh lines. No. You’re making that up. She couldn’t see if they were kind and was only guessing at the laugh lines because she appreciated his brand of humor.

She should stop Briana from giving him her number but knew it wouldn’t work. Briana had been after her for months now to get out, to meet someone – anyone – to live again, but she just wasn’t ready yet. She would be someday. Maybe. Maybe not. This entire night was ridiculous! Something the old her would have done. You mean the real you. That stupid voice in her head. She had been stupid in the past. That did not mean she had to be stupid in the future. No way. And no alcohol. My God! A few wines coolers and you’re a bitch in heat. Time to go. She flushed with shame.

“Good night!” Caryanne turned back to Jake, waved, and spun on her heel to leave.

“Good night?” Jake replied.

Briana caught up to her quickly. “That was rude!”

“Making out with a stranger in public? Yes. That was rude. I’m sorry.” She picked up her pace and made a beeline for the car.

“He was nice! And you were both just having a little fun! Remember fun? That thing you used to have? Before…”

Caryanne halted dead in her tracks. “Stop!” Her voice was Arctic ice. She resumed walking at a determined pace. “I do not want to talk about ‘Before’, thank you very much. I am concerned with the ‘Future’. And my ‘Future’ is Travis.”

“Well, Travis might appreciate you practicing a little bit of fun in the meantime, so you don’t totally forget what it is,” Briana muttered as she yanked open the door to the car. She turned the key in the ignition and pulled toward the parking lot exit.

Caryanne buckled her seat belt. She took a few deep breaths. This was so hard. It shouldn’t still be this hard. “I know what a drudge it must be living with me. I don’t know why you still do.”

“Don’t…”

“No. I don’t want sympathy. I really want to apologize. I’m having a hard time finding my way, but I will find it. You’ve been great, always encouraging me and whatnot. I know I’ve been a recluse since… but I promise to start getting out. I mean it. I just…, I was embarrassed. I went from nothing to too much too fast, and I know I handled it all wrong.” She gazed out the window into the darkness. She wondered which set of taillights held the man she’d embraced a few minutes ago. Jake. Great name. Even better kisser.

“Don’t be embarrassed. It was no big deal. No one from work was even still there. So what? So you kissed some random guy? So?” Briana turned to her and grinned. “Did you like it?”

Caryanne felt a flush of warmth in her midsection at the thought of him. “Oh yeah.” She smiled and hugged herself as they hurtled through the night.