Love In The Jungle: 3 by Ann Walker

Author:Ann Walker [Walker, Ann]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2015-05-12T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter Six

"Nothing like a stroll in the blazing sun," I mused, gesturing up to the unrelenting orange orb above, "escorted by an armed gunman in a terrorist camp."

"There’s nothin' like it in the whole world," Grant chuckled, adding an accent for comedic effect. We both glanced over our shoulders, arms linked together, to see if our armed escort actually heard us. Although the man was watching, he didn't seem especially focused on either one of us in particular. Instead, he chewed on a piece of gum with an open mouth, snapping the bubbles noisily, his gaze a little distant. Probably had something on his mind. More kidnapping and pillaging, maybe.

We turned ahead in tandem, continuing what could have been a leisurely stroll had it not been for the militaristic atmosphere going on around us. It didn't matter whether the group that had taken us were eco-terrorists fighting the good fight, or just plain old bad people. I'd never feel comfortable within the walls of the compound. That big black wall, the one we'd walked the entirety of twice already, was a symbol of our lack of freedom, our imprisonment in the Togolese mountains.

I sometimes saw it in my dreams, and I knew I'd probably still be seeing it for years to come.

If I even had years to come. After Grant had struck a deal with Felipe to pay for our ransom in supplies, I'd expected to be out of here the very next day. However, it had been almost five full days of stress and tension and anticipation, hoping that each time one of our captors showed up at our door it would be to release us.

No such luck. I'd initially thought we were out of the woods at last, that things might finally be looking up. Instead, we still ate food that looked like it ought to be served on a public school's worst lunch day. Our free time remained restricted, though we were allowed to walk the perimeter of the camp these days after Grant put in a special request. While we weren't tied up every time our food was delivered, we still had to stand against the wall and wait, guns aimed at our back, until everything had been set out and the door was shut.

I'd only recently been given a new change of clothes, and just before that we were afforded the luxury of a toothbrush. Still no shower in sight, but I wasn't about to push my luck. So, clad in a man's oversized shirt and a pair of cotton trousers that I needed a string to tie around my waist, I had to sit in my stink—I wasn't about to waste what little water we had on washing my armpits. Grant wasn't much better off, and I had a feeling we'd both grown immune to each other's smell.

Our captors, meanwhile, occasionally made a dig about the stink, and I bit back the urge to tell them that if it bothered them so much, we were open to a bath.

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