Page 8 of The Hijack

“I’m not trying to satisfy you,” I told him.

“I wonder what it would be like if you did try,” he responded, giving me that up and down look men reserve for their future conquests.

“Look elsewhere,” I warned him. “I’ve got a boyfriend.”

“And he’s a lucky man,” Lincoln said, settling back down.

I wasn’t sure that was the case. If Theo really was lucky, he would have nothing to do with me. He would be safe at home on his yacht or whatever it was he liked to do for fun. I only complicated his life. That, and there was a very real possibility that Theo was dead that weighed heavily on my mind. I couldn’t shake the stink of guilt that accompanied my fear. If only I hadn’t dragged him into this, he might have lived to see another day.

“Let me guess,” Lincoln said after a moment of silence. “It’s complicated.”

“Yeah,” I agreed. “It’s complicated.”

“So what can you tell me about yourself?” Lincoln asked, sitting back down as if he planned to stay.

“Nothing,” I responded.

“Well, my name is Linc,” Lincoln said. “I was varsity football in high school and got half a scholarship to play ball in college.”

“What’s half a scholarship?” I asked, allowing myself to become distracted.

“You know,” he prompted me, as if I was the idiot. “Half a ride.”

“I never went to college,” I muttered.

“See,” Linc pointed out. “That’s something you could tell me.”

“Great,” I agreed unenthusiastically.

Another few gunmen came up to our guard and started talking. I still couldn’t place the language. Since I was adept at linguistics and knew several dozen official languages, I guessed it was a local dialect, something that wouldn’t be taught to foreign visitors.

“Tagalog?” Linc asked.

“No,” I said, listening hard. “But close.”

“That would put us somewhere near the Philippines,” Linc decided.

“It’s not Tagalog,” I reminded him.

“Vegetation is right,” Linc observed.

I didn’t know how many times I could tell him that we weren’t in the Philippines, so I just kept my mouth shut. A few English words were peppered into the dialect, leading me to believe that the place had been a former British colony. Wherever we were, I would bet a million dollars it was an island nation somewhere north of Australia.

A sudden crack in the sky alerted everyone on the ground to danger. That must have been what the new gunmen were there to discuss. There was a storm on the horizon, and it was approaching fast.

I glanced up, past the bars and the hammered tin roof that sheltered the cage. I couldn’t really see the sky. Past the clearing were only trees that blocked out most of the sun. But the landscape grew dark, and the rumbling from above continued. I saw the trees begin to shake and felt the bite of a cold wind on my cheeks.

“Oh shit,” Linc said.

At that point, it didn’t matter what flag was flying overhead; the threat of hurricanes and typhoons was very real. They could decimate entire villages, leveling structures and washing people out to sea. In recent years, the storms had only gotten stronger. I didn’t want to get caught out in the middle of one in a ramshackle hut that was masquerading as a cage.

“Hey!” I yelled, hoping to get our captors’ attention.

They ignored me, gesturing violently toward the sky. The man I had hit with the board didn’t seem anxious to abandon his post. But the other guys were clearly afraid. They didn’t want to be caught out in the storm either.

“Hey!” I repeated myself, hoping that Linc and I were valuable enough to rescue.

The conversation intensified, and though I couldn’t understand the words, their intent was clear. The hired mercenaries were considering running for the hills and leaving me and Linc at the mercy of the weather. They knew the odds. Their boss might have instructed them to make sure we stayed put, but that didn’t mean they wanted to put their own lives on the line. Besides, wouldn’t it be easier to watch us if we were dead?