Beyond the Breaking Point - Lori Sjoberg Page 0,15
it so she could see the image of two teenage girls in shorts and tank tops standing on the shore of a lake. “My daughters.”
“They’re beautiful.”
“Thanks. Lucky for them, they take after their mother. The one on the right is Jazmin, my oldest. She just started her second year at Auburn. Wants to be an engineer when she graduates.” He switched the phone off and tucked it back into his pocket. “I’ve got another few years before the other one gets out of high school.”
“What does she want to be?”
He shrugged. “I don’t think she’s decided yet, and I’m not about to push her. For now, I just want her to enjoy being a kid for as long as she can.”
Made sense. Kids grew up so fast. In the blink of an eye, she’d be out on her own, working a job, paying taxes, and wishing she could go back to the days when somebody did her laundry and cooked her meals.
Hope glanced back at Wade again, and she wondered whether anyone was waiting for him to come home. Probably not. He didn’t strike her as the type to settle down anywhere for long. Besides, what woman in their right mind would be willing to put up with his crap?
She pushed the thought from her head and focused on the scenery in front of her. His personal life was none of her business. And, frankly, she just didn’t care. The only thing she wanted was for this nightmare to be over, the sooner the better. Then she could return to a normal life, and forget Wade Flint existed.
Chapter 5
It was one of those storms that came out of nowhere. One minute, the sky was crystal clear, and the next it rained so hard Wade wondered whether they should start building an ark. But then the storm disappeared just as quickly as it arrived, leaving them soaked to the skin. On the bright side, at least it cooled things down, from oppressive to borderline stuffy.
By mid-afternoon, they’d turned to the east and followed a river that serpentined through the jungle. The world around them dimmed as the tree canopy grew thicker, until only small slivers of light filtered through to the ground below. A rich, earthy scent permeated the air, while a troop of monkeys overhead chattered like employees in an office breakroom.
“How much longer before we cross?” Wade swatted away an insect that buzzed in front of his face. It was his understanding that there was a shallow section coming up ahead where they could safely reach the other side.
“I can’t say for sure, but I think we’re close.” Hope wiped sweat off her brow as she stepped over a fallen tree limb. Her hair was dry and pulled back into a ponytail, but her clothes were still damp from the storm.
Following Hector’s advice, Wade had been trying to act more civil toward her, but so far she wasn’t having any of it. She only spoke when spoken to, and the stares she leveled in his direction were icy enough to freeze a volcano.
At the next bend, they stopped for a break. Wade refilled his canteen at the river, while Hector picked a handful of dark-blue berries off a vine twining around a spindly tree trunk. He held them out to Hope. “Any idea if these are edible?”
She leaned toward his outstretched hand to get a better look. “Uh…yeah, I think I ate some of those before. If they’re blue, black, or purple, you’ve got a good shot at them being safe to eat. The lighter the color, the higher the chance of them being poisonous.”
“Good to know. Here goes nothing.” He popped them into his mouth, and his face puckered after a couple of chews. “A little sour, but it’s nice to eat something besides meal bars, jerky, and granola.”
Curious, Wade sampled a few off the vine. Definitely on the bitter side, but they were a welcome change of pace. He looked to Hope. “Aren’t you going to have some?”
She shook her head. “No, thanks. I’m not hungry.”
“Suit yourself.” He picked a handful, ate a few, and placed the rest in a pocket inside his pack. They might not be very hungry at the moment, but the extra food would come in handy later, when their supplies began to run low.
A short distance ahead, a blood-curdling, high-pitched scream rent the air. It seemed as though it went on forever, a ghastly tortured cry.