Captured by You

by Amber Hart

  “You’ll come with me,” Mr. Lemba says. “Mr. Tondjii would like to kill you himself.”

  “I’m sure he would,” I spit, just as Clovis says, “We won’t be going anywhere with you.”

  That’s when I see the knife slipping out of the sleeve of his shirt, into his hand, and spiraling through the air. It hits Mr. Lemba in the stomach. Sinks in as if his skin is made of soft cotton. Mr. Lemba makes a gurgling sound and fires a shot, but it goes wild. Clovis has just enough time to grab his gun. I already have mine in hand, though it’s hard to hold because of the knife wound. I will have to use my left arm—my scarred arm.

  The knife leaves the assistant’s hand and misses me by inches. The man starts to run, even knowing it is two against one.

  I release the safety and fire.

  Boom.

  And, like most times, I hit my target.

  I’ve just shot someone. Again. Clovis finishes the job I started. My bullet in the assistant’s side, Clovis’s bullet in his head.

  “My God,” I whisper.

  We’ve just killed someone. I turn away from the body, back to where Mr. Lemba lies. Carefully, I inch closer, looking for any remaining signs of our evidence. I nearly scream when Mr. Lemba opens his eyes. He removes the knife from his stomach and attempts to bury it in my calf. Luckily the thickness of my boots prevents the blade from sinking all the way into my skin, but I still feel a flash of pain that catches me off guard.

  I cry out and drop to my knees. He reaches for my throat, hands closing around it. His breaths are crackling—it’s clearly hard for him to inhale. But, just as suddenly, with the sound of Clovis’s gun going off, Mr. Lemba’s hands loosen and blood splatters the ground beside me. I pull away quickly. His body hits the ground. Over him stands Clovis, breathing hard, gun drawn. He has put a bullet in the back of the official. And it’s over.

  My left hand closes around the hilt of the knife in my calf. It hasn’t gone in far, only an inch, maybe. I take a deep breath, steady myself, and yank it out. The blade falls soundlessly to the forest floor. Clovis retrieves it and pockets our guns.

  He looks as though he’s ready to dash away from the scene around us, but I lower my head into my hands and rock gently on the ground, unable to hold back my tears. The unfairness of it all hits me, and I cry. For my dad, for the friends that I miss, for Mama, for Jospin and Clovis and the danger they’re in, for the evidence we worked so hard to get. My chest heaves with silent sobs.

  “Raven?” Clovis says gently. “I’m sorry, but we have to get out of here. I’m going to carry you, okay? And your leg…”

  My leg drips blood at a constant trickle. I’m trying to be brave, I’m trying to swallow the tears and move forward, but it’s difficult. I wipe my face with my palms but cannot seem to stop the quiver of my chin as I look up at him.

  “You need something to stanch the bleeding,” he says.

  There is nothing to use but my own shirt.

  “You can have my shirt,” Clovis offers, and pulls it over his head.

  He rips it in two. One part for the tourniquet, just below my knee, the other part to wrap the wound itself. I tie off my leg, wincing as the pain radiates, trying to ignore it and pick myself up.

  “I’ve got you,” he says softly.

  I need his help, so I nod.

  “We’re a day from the habitat,” Clovis continues. “It’s extremely dangerous to go there. We’re a couple of days from the town too. If I know Mr. Tondjii, he’s there already, searching for us. It’s your choice, Raven. Our evidence is gone. Our mission is ruined. Now it’s about surviving.”

  We both look down to where the ground is burned.

  “And what about them?” I ask, nodding toward Mr. Lemba and his assistant, a little farther off. My voice is still wobbly with emotion.

  “They are dead, Raven. We’ll leave them here. They are not our concern. So which one is it? Do you want to try to make it back to the town, or do you want to retreat to the habitat?”

  Either way, we are in danger. “What do you want, Clovis?”

  He picks me up in his arms. Close, I feel the sweat on his bare skin.

  “I want you to be happy, Raven,” he whispers. “Where will you be happy?”

  Chapter 34

  Jospin

  It’s been a few days since Winnie’s death, but the mood at the habitat remains somber. I’d become used to the chatter in the halls, people laughing freely, smiling as I passed, but lately it’s been quiet. Chloe is perhaps the most affected, still walking around with patches of red on her face, as though she’s been continuously crying. I feel Winnie’s absence too—it’s as if part of the habitat is missing, though I hardly knew her. And try as I might, I can’t erase the memory of that dreadful day.

  —

  As I stand there, holding Winnie, someone who didn’t deserve to die this way, I think a piece of me finally understands compassion. She only wanted to save gorillas, yet her unblinking eyes stare up at me, as glassy as the sky today.

  Chloe is the one to open the door.

  “François killed her,” I explain. Loriant doesn’t say a word, and I suspect that he’s in shock. “I took care of him. He’s gone. He can never do this again.”

  The words rush from my lips, and I am surprised to notice that they shake. Many times in battle, I have seen men fall. Most of them deserved it. But never, until today, have I seen a woman die like this.

  Chloe shakes her head, a silent no forming on her lips.

  All I know of Winnie is that she and Chloe are close. I never bothered to find out more.

  What comes next is a noise so loud, so heavy with grief, that it nearly makes me fall to my knees. Chloe wails, a guttural cry.

  I would give almost anything to never hear a person wail like that again.

  —

  When Chloe knocks on my bedroom door after dinnertime, I’m surprised, especially after what she’s been through lately. She lost a friend. I would not expect her to want company. She hasn’t exactly been seeking me out.

  I open the door to see Chloe’s wide eyes, still red-rimmed. I wonder if she has come to discuss the details of Winnie’s death. She hasn’t asked me more before now, perhaps because she wasn’t ready to process it just yet. I open my mouth to ask her if she is all right, but suddenly the air is knocked out of me. Because Raven is standing beside her.

  “Raven,” I whisper, confused. “What are you doing here?”

  “Jospin!” she says, and throws an arm around me.

  That’s when I notice that her good arm is unmoving. I turn on the bedroom light. Blood soaks Raven’s shirt. Clovis stands in the hall, just behind her, not wearing a shirt for some reason. His gaze skips to her leg. I follow his stare. His shirt is wrapped around her leg, and the cloth is stained with more blood.

  I want to hold Raven in my arms. I want to ask Chloe and Clovis to leave. Or maybe Raven and I can be the ones to leave. I want to kiss her lips. I want to scold myself for even thinking of Raven like that right now.

  “What happened to you?” I ask, taking a step back. I bend to get a closer look at her leg. “Who hurt you?”

  She’s bloody and breathing hard, as if she’s in pain. She’s staring at my face, and I want to fix her wounds and ask a million questions. Because something terrible must have happened for both Raven and Clovis to step foot inside the habitat looking like this.

  “Jospin,” Raven says. “I’m so sorry I didn’t listen to you. We can’t stay at the compound anymore.” Raven favors her uninjured leg. She clutches her right biceps, where blood soaks through her ripped shirt.

  “Who did this to you, Raven?” I growl. “Was it my father? One of the men?”

  It’s Clovis who answers me. “An official named Mr. Lemba has been shutting down packs. We found the evidence we needed. We gave it to him.”

  I watch the way Clovis’s muscles tighten as if he’s anxious, ready to move from this place that is most certainly not safe for either of them. Or for
me.

  “He turned on us. Your father hired him in secret to shut down his competition under the cover of a government operation. He bought the official out, Jospin. And the man nearly killed us.”

  I help Raven walk to the bed and sit her down.

  “The evidence is gone?” I ask.

  Raven looks as pained as she did the day my father banished me. “Completely gone,” she replies.

  I reach behind the bed, where I stuffed the evidence I found in Ransom’s study.

  “Not completely,” I say, handing the papers to Raven.

  She looks them over and gives them to Clovis. “Where did you find this?” And then, to Clovis, “Will that be enough?”

  I hate that she’s asking him. That he’s involved at all. He shouldn’t be.

  “I’m not sure,” Clovis answers honestly. “Maybe.”

  I take the folder back. “It’s all we have,” I tell Raven. “It will have to be enough.”

  “What is going on here?” Chloe asks, voice trembling.

  “I’m so sorry, Chloe,” Raven replies. “I tried to do what Dad wanted me to do. I tried to gather enough evidence to shut the poachers down, but I failed. We have to go. We can’t stay here. They’ll find us. And, Chloe, you need to prepare yourself. You may have to use the weapons room. I know you probably don’t want to, but Mr. Tondjii will be looking for us, and I cannot promise that he won’t come here.”

  Chloe shakes her head as if she’s trying to process everything. “How do you know about the weapons room?”

  “I saw it,” Raven says. “And it’s okay, I understand why you need it. Just be careful.”

  “We need to go now, Raven,” Clovis says.

  “If she’s going anywhere, this time it’s with me,” I say, facing Clovis. “She’s had enough time with you.”

  I turn back to face Raven. She’s noticed that she’s bleeding on the thin comforter and shifts to try to stand but doesn’t make it.

  “I’m tired of seeing you hurt,” I tell her. “You have to come with me this time, Raven.”

  “Only if Clovis comes too.” Her voice is strong, and I wonder about the way it has changed. Raven is no longer uncertain of this jungle. Her tone commands; it doesn’t ask. This Raven, the one she’s become, is braver and surer than the girl I met who was trying to make her own weapons.

  I hate the idea of Clovis joining us. “How can we trust him, Raven? He betrayed me.”

  “I already trust him,” she says. “He helped my dad and became my friend when I needed one. He taught me about the jungle and how to hide when necessary. Clovis has been my safe place when I had nowhere to go, a link to Dad even after he was gone.”

  And though every one of her words is true, I hate to hear them.

  “I trust him completely,” she says. “It’s your turn now.”

  I blow air out of my lungs in a long rush and pace the small bedroom floor, hands on my hips, head tilted toward the ceiling.

  “How do I know that it’s okay to trust him?” I ask.

  I stop. Turn toward Raven again. I’m waiting for a definite answer that will make things easier for me. I cannot trust Clovis. I do not have enough time to explain how close Clovis and I once were. I cannot expect her to know what it feels like, this knife that he put in my back. He lied to my face. He promised to be a part of our pack. I think maybe what hurts the most is that he could have told me how he really felt about his father and about the pack. He could have shared with me the change that was taking place in him. I could have tried to explain to Father that Clovis wanted out.

  But I know in all honesty that Father would not have let Clovis out of the pack alive.

  “That’s the thing about trust,” Raven says. “There’s no way to know, really. You just have to do it.”

  “Raven,” I whisper as I drop down onto the bed beside her, “I don’t think I can.”

  “Do you want to be with me? Do you want to be a part of this? I understand if it’s too much. If you want to leave.”

  Her voice, barely a whisper, holds a hint of pain.

  “I’m not going to leave you, Raven,” I say. “Not this time.”

  Raven finally pushes up, standing on wobbly legs. “Then it’s time to go. Clovis has a plan.” She turns to him. “Tell him.”

  “All three of us need to leave,” Clovis says. “The cave is the safest place. I’m not sure that your evidence will be enough for the American embassy, Jospin, but we do need to go. We cannot put Chloe or the workers or the habitat in danger any longer. Can you do this?”

  I don’t like that he is in charge, but since Raven will have it no other way, I answer him.

  “Yes.”

  Clovis turns his attention to Chloe. “Arm yourself. Protect the habitat. Lock all doors and don’t let any new volunteers in. Stay on alert for poachers. We will try to get the evidence to the embassy, like Ransom wanted.”

  “I could try to make a call for you,” Chloe says. “I’m sure I could at least alert them that you’re on the way.”

  “We don’t have time,” Raven says. “And I’m not sure that I trust a call at this point. We need to go in person. And if we’re successful, we’ll be back.”

  And if we’re not successful?

  The question hangs in the air, but none of us dares to ask it.

  “Are you sure?” Chloe persists. “I could try right now. Leave a message and hope for a return call in the morning.”

  “We don’t have time,” Raven says again. “We really have to go, and we still need supplies.”

  Chloe smoothes a hand down Raven’s hair and nods. “If that’s what you think is best.”

  Quickly, I grab my bag out from under the bed. I begin packing clothes. On top of clothes, I pile weapons and ammo.

  “Chloe, can you get us food and water and another bag to carry it?” I ask.

  She nods and gives Raven a brief hug before exiting the room. Raven asks Chloe to grab some of the clothes she’d left here too. That way she can change and bring extra clothing with her.

  “Just one thing before we go?” Raven requests.

  Whatever it is, she needs to hurry.

  “I want to see Leahcim.”

  I pause. I had completely forgotten that she didn’t know.

  “You can’t see Leahcim,” I inform her, taking her hand and running a thumb gently up her palm. “Because we’ve already set him free.”

  —

  Shoulders heavy with my bag, I walk beside Raven, trying my best to support her. I glance down to her leg. Chloe quickly stitched it together. Covered by a bandage, the bleeding has stopped. But Raven has only had the over-the-counter pain medicine given to her by Chloe to dull the ache. Luckily, her arm didn’t need stitches, just gauze and disinfectant. Truthfully, it could have used the stitches for cosmetic purposes, but Raven said it didn’t matter to her if the scar was thick. She has so many already.

  “Only a few minutes more,” I say, hoping that will help Raven to bear it a little longer. “Are you sure about this cave?” I ask Clovis.

  “The waterfall is our best option for now,” he replies. “Raven cannot walk much farther, and she needs time to heal.”

  I know he’s right, so I say nothing.

  I make sure to walk over moss and greenery that will spring back up minutes after we leave. We climb on tree roots where possible. They bear almost no sign of our visit, unlike sticks that break when stepped on, unlike some leaves that will copy the prints from the soles of our shoes. We must be very careful with our trail, and if we step just right, we won’t leave one at all.

  The waterfall comes into view under faint moonlight. The underwater entrance is a perfect disguise for the cave that waits, but it won’t be easy for Raven to make it there in her condition.

  “Will you be able to swim?” I ask.

  Underwater, I cannot carry Raven, as I did on our hike here. She’ll need to do this herself.

  “I’ll try,” she replies.

  “Think of
the cave beyond,” I say. “You can rest there. Push hard through the water.”

  “I can pull her,” Clovis offers. “I’ll go first. I can take her arm and pull her through. You can swim behind her and help push. She won’t make it otherwise.”

  He might be right. As much as I don’t want Clovis here, I can’t help but admit that while Raven is injured, he is an asset.

  “Okay,” I agree.

  “And what about our bags?” Clovis asks. Chloe’s waterproof pack—full of water and food—is bulky. There’s no way we can fit through the entrance tunnel with the packs on our backs.

  “We’ll have to leave them here and get Raven through the tunnel, then come back for them,” I decide. “We can retrieve them once Raven is settled.”

  There’s really only one way to do that: Push the packs ahead of us through the tunnel.

  I set my pack down, and Clovis does the same. I think about Raven’s clothes. As much as I don’t want her to strip, I know that removing her fresh clothes and placing them in my bag is the best way to keep them dry.

  “You need to undress,” I say, looking Raven in her eyes. “That way your clothes will stay dry.”

  Raven nods and begins to undress. Clovis turns his head away, and strips down too. I also remove my clothes, down to boxers, to keep as much dry as possible. My stare remains on Raven as she carefully maneuvers her shirt over the bandaged part of her arm, not without struggle. I want to offer to help, but Raven’s look says that she’s determined to do this. She hands me her shirt, a crumpled ball of fabric that I stuff into my bag. Next she sits and removes boots and cargo pants, careful when she pushes them over her wound. There is just enough room in my bag.

  “Give me a minute. I need to hide this,” I say.

  Raven waits as I eye the area. A few yards off, I find the perfect bush to slip the bag under. Clovis hides his nearby as I return to Raven’s side.

  She sits before me in nothing but a black bra and underwear. Her hair hangs in tangles down her shoulders. Her eyes, pale blue like the moonlight, watch me. She stands and kisses me quickly before limping to the water’s edge.

  “Let’s go,” she says.