Sacrifice. Alex Archer

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СКАЧАТЬ be bitten by thousands of things that she’d be better off avoiding.

      The best shelter she could take was up in the trees.

      She wondered if there were pumas in the jungles of the Philippines. She didn’t think so. Or, at least, she hoped there weren’t.

      But what about snakes?

      Annja worked her way around until her back was settled comfortably in the crook of the tree. I can’t think about that now, she decided. I just have to try to endure this for as long as it takes for me to get out of here alive.

      And when she did, she’d make it her business to tell everyone about Agamemnon and his merry band of terrorist scumbags.

       5

      Annja awoke to gunfire. A single shot at first. Then she counted off a series of semiautomatic shots followed by intermittent automatic gun blasts. From the sound of it, there was a bit of a pitched battle going on some distance away.

      Annja peered out into the darkness, which seemed as thick as the air itself. All around her, the jungle croaked, buzzed and whined with the calls of animals out on their nocturnal forays. Annja’s muddy mosquito repellent seemed to have done its job at least somewhat. There were still squadrons of buzzing mosquitoes about her head, but they didn’t seem able to penetrate the thick cover of her muddy hair.

      At least there’s a chance I won’t get malaria, she thought with a grin.

      The gunfire stopped. But the animals of the jungle simply carried on. Annja frowned. They should have quieted as soon as the bullets started flying, but they didn’t. That meant they must be used to the violence that sometimes erupted in this part of the Philippines.

      Wherever this part was, exactly.

      Annja stretched and tried to work a kink out of her back. It was going to be tough finding any degree of comfort in a place like this. She closed her eyes and imagined what it would feel like to sink into a tub of hot steamy bubbles, lounging for hours until every one of her pores had given up the very last remnants of the jungle mud and grime.

      She almost moaned but stopped herself. The jungle around her might still contain a few surprises. For all she knew, Agamemnon might have told his men to fire their guns in the hope Annja would run in the opposite direction. Right into his waiting arms.

      Fat chance, jack, she thought. She’d been around the block a few times and knew how things worked. And she was most definitely not interested in the prospect of losing her head to some megalomaniac.

      She relaxed her breathing and her muscles. She knew she needed a lot of rest if she was going to try to get out of here in the morning. Her plan was simple. She’d get up at first light and cover as much ground as possible.

      If she could find a small river, she’d follow it downstream until it merged with a bigger river and then that would eventually run right out to the ocean. It was survival 101. Once she got to the coast, she’d be able to find someone who could help her.

      She hoped.

      The problem with Abu Sayyaf was that they had a lot of local support in the poorer areas of the Philippines. Many of the local villages and towns would readily give them money and supplies to help their cause.

      That meant Annja might find herself being handed right back to Agamemnon.

      She’d have to proceed carefully.

      Still, her plan seemed sound. Find the water and follow it. Simple and easy. But she wasn’t stupid. She knew there was a good chance that Agamemnon would position a lot of his men along the riverbanks in the hopes that Annja would do exactly that.

      But what choice do I have? she wondered. There’s no way I’ll find my way out of here unless I use the water.

      With that in mind, she felt herself drift off into a light sleep. She woke every hour or so, shifted position and then dozed off again, only to awaken roughly hours later when it was still quite dark.

      “Ugh.”

      She sighed and shifted position. For some reason, she felt uneasy. More so than she had when she’d first run into the jungle.

      She peered over the edge of the tree and searched the darkness. There was little ambient light to use, so Annja couldn’t make out very much detail with her eyes, even when she peered at things using her peripheral vision.

      But she could sense something moving in the darkness, something that didn’t seem so much dangerous as simply out of place with the flow of the jungle around them. The animals seemed to have taken little notice of it and continued buzzing and chirping and clicking their way through the night.

      But Annja felt it.

      She heard a vague rustle off to her left somewhere. It seemed a microsecond out of the timing of the rest of the noises, as if someone had jumped their cue to move.

      She was sure it had to be a person.

      But was it one of Agamemnon’s men? Or someone else?

      Annja frowned. Who would go wandering around the jungle this late at night? Especially one as dangerous as this? The sound of gunfire would certainly travel for miles, and surely, the local villagers knew enough to stay clear of the jungle if they wanted to stay on Agamemnon’s good side.

      Another rustle sounded closer to her. Whatever it was, it was definitely moving toward her location.

      Annja closed her eyes and saw the sword hovering just in case she needed it. But even as Annja felt the glow of its security, she knew she wouldn’t need it for this particular situation.

      She had the distinct impression that whoever was moving through the undergrowth below her was friendly.

      Or at the very least, an ally.

      Annja shifted her position so she could see over the edge of the tree. Her body seemed to know the direction the person must have been taking. Annja leaned farther out of the edge of the tree, her fingers slowly walking toward the last outcropping of branches.

      Suddenly she found herself leaning too far, felt her weight shift on the wet vines and her balance vanish as she toppled out of the tree.

      Annja tried to pivot in midair, but knew she wasn’t high enough to pull off the move. She felt the rush of air—briefly—and then the dull hard thud of impact along her back.

      The wind rushed out of her lungs and Annja lay there a moment, stunned.

      She tried to sit up, but felt a piece of metal jammed under her chin. A harsh voice broke the night air.

      “Don’t move.”

      Annja froze. “I’m no threat to you,” she said calmly.

      She looked up and saw a vague outline, like a giant blob of leaves and branches, hovering over her. The gun barrel that was aimed at her looked real enough, even in the darkness.

      “Who are you?” the man asked.

      Annja eased herself up, trying to breathe her way through the pain that shot up and down СКАЧАТЬ