Instinct: A Chess Team Adventure - By Jeremy Robinson Page 0,123

“I took it from him. Bit him.”

She’d done it. Sara the twitchy scientist had weathered the worst this jungle and history had to throw at her and did whatever it took to get the job done. Now they just needed to escape in one piece.

He realized that he could still drop dead from Brugada and Sara might not be able to bring him back a second time. “I don’t suppose you’d mind donating some blood over here. I’d really rather not need to get shocked again.”

“Already taken care of,” Sara said, motioning for him to check his lower lip.

King felt the inside of his mouth with his tongue. There was a fresh wound, already starting to heal thanks to the enzymes in his saliva.

“You were really out. I bit your lip, reopened mine, and planted a big bloody wet one on you.”

“Could’ve waited for me to wake up. Would’ve been more fun.”

“If you woke up at all,” she said.

“Right. Thanks.” King stood, holding the large leaf in place. He reached out and felt his boxers. Dry enough, he thought. He pulled them down, dropped the leaf, and began dressing.

Then it hit him, like a forgotten headache that returns with sudden movement. Sara’s watch. The red glow. As he dressed more quickly, he asked, “When did the meter change?”

Sara looked at her wrist. “When I was with Weston.”

“How long was I unconscious?”

“A few hours.”

King’s expression turned sour. A few hours at the onset of a pandemic could save thousands of lives. Maybe more.

But Sara already knew that. “I tried waking you up a few times, but . . .”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said. “But we need to get you out of here as quick as possible.”

“What about the rest of the team?” Sara asked.

King hated to say it, but there was no choice. They might already be too late. “They can fend for themselves.”

“That might be true,” a voice came from the entrance to the room, “but I think you could use some help.”

Sara stood quickly, holding Weston’s handgun. She pointed the gun toward the door. A shadow entered the room, parted the clothes, and stepped into the light.

Queen stood before them, wearing only her fatigues and boots, but covered, absolutely covered, in weapons. Multiple belts held knives and handguns of all kinds. To her back were strapped four AK-47s, an RPG, and a satchel full of ammo clips. She held a backpack in one hand and a radio in the other.

“How did you find us?” Sara asked, afraid that if Queen had found them so easily, perhaps others could as well.

“I saw you from above as I came down. Followed some wet footprints to start. Then searched house to house. Now help me out of this. It weighs a ton.”

They helped her remove the cache of weapons and lined them up on the bed. Queen handed King one of the belts from her waist. “This one’s for you.”

King noticed the knife handle and drew it. “My knife?”

Queen nodded.

“Thanks,” King said.

“Consider it a wedding gift,” Queen said with a smirk. “Besides, she’s part of the family now.” Queen’s smile disappeared. “And there’s an opening on the team.”

“Bishop,” King said.

Queen nodded. “Rook is captured. Knight is injured, but hiding somewhere. Pawn Two is dead.”

King closed his eyes. He knew about Bishop. But Rook and Knight being missing in action and Somi dead were news to him. Bad news. No single mission in his entire career had cost him so much. He fought back his growing despair and turned the energy from sadness to anger. Sadness clouded the mind, made soldiers slow. Anger sharpened like flint to a knife. “What happened to Rook?”

“I was with him. We came in together.” Queen shook her head. “He was taken by the original Neanderthal women. Shorter, but much more nasty. They’re the ones we encountered at Anh Dung. Rook was alive when they took him . . . but I’m not sure for how long.”

“Why did they take him?” Sara asked.

Queen picked Sara’s now-dry sports bra off the line. “Mind if I borrow this?”

“No . . . go ahead.”

Queen slipped into the bra, shoving her larger breasts into it, flattening them out. “A little tight.” Queen bounced up and down. Her chest didn’t budge. “But it will do.” She looked at King, her eyes suddenly cold. “They took Rook to replace Weston.”

King and Sara knew exactly what that meant. Weston, being the father of the Neanderthal women’s children, had given them a family again. Now