Running From the Devil by Jamie Freveletti

Author:Jamie Freveletti [Freveletti, Jamie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Thrillers, C429, Extratorrents, Kat
ISBN: 9780061684227
Publisher: Harper
Published: 2009-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

27

THEIR PROGRESS WAS RIDICULOUSLY SLOW. IT WAS OVER EIGHTY degrees and the humidity made it feel as though they were walking through fog. The banks of the stream consisted mainly of mud, and it sucked at their shoes. Every so often Emma would see a snake slither past. One was black with orange bands in a geometric pattern. None of the wildlife seemed inclined to attack them, but she kept her distance nonetheless.

Clouds of bugs hovered in the air. Emma and Sumner waved at them with their hands, but there were too many. They flew into Emma’s eyes and ears and clung to the edges of her lips. One crawled up her nose and she snorted like crazy to get it out.

“God, that’s disgusting,” she said.

Sumner looked at her and nodded as he smacked at the black buzzing veil of bugs.

They pitched camp. This time they built a fire and warmed the pig. Sumner shaved pieces off the side and handed them to Emma. She pulled out the small bottle of red wine from the pack.

Sumner burst into laughter.

“You’re like Mary Poppins. Always pulling something good out of that bag.” A smile creased his face and real delight shone in his eyes. Emma was stunned by the reaction, but recovered enough to grin back at him.

“Fresh meat deserves a fine wine.” She held the bottle out like a sommelier at the Ritz. “Sir. Bolla, Valpolicella, vintage yesterday. Our finest offering.” She twisted off the screw top and took a sip, rolled it around in her mouth, and swallowed. “Excellent.” She gave it to Sumner and he swallowed his own large gulp. They ripped into the pork.

“God, this is great.” The pork fell apart in Emma’s mouth and tasted like heaven. Sumner nodded and carved some more for her.

They ate in silence. Sumner retreated into himself and his private thoughts. It was as if the burst of laughter had never occurred. After eating, Emma shoved a small steel bowl she’d pilfered back at Mathilde’s checkpoint into her backpack and used it as a pillow. She stared at Sumner, thinking about his shot at the helicopter.

“Where did you learn to shoot like that?”

“My father.”

“Where did you grow up?”

“Minnesota. Guns came with the territory.”

“What do you do for the Southern Hemisphere Drug Defense?”

“I monitor unidentified planes flying under radar in and out of Miami.”

“Ah. So that explains your extensive knowledge of the habits of drug runners and your excellent Spanish.”

Sumner shrugged and stayed silent.

“How many languages do you speak?” she said.

“Four.”

Emma was impressed. “I speak two. Well, three, really. English, German, and Latin. As a scientist, Latin is the language I probably use the most, which is odd because it’s a dead language. Is German one of the four you speak?”

Sumner nodded. She wanted to press him for more personal information but decided that further interrogation wasn’t necessary. Besides, his one-syllable answers made for slow going. They had plenty of time to get acquainted, and the mosquitoes were out and eating her alive.

“I’m headed to the tent.

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