At the Edge

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Authors: Laura Griffin
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the silence.
    She took a deep breath and whisked herself away to a yoga class. She wasn’t hiding in the jungle surrounded by unknown people and hazards and venomous-but-not-aggressive spiders. Instead, she was on a foam mat surrounded by soft music and sandalwood incense.
    Breathe deeply, all the way to your spine. The melodic voice of her instructor floated over her, and she felt her shoulders soften. She was calm. She was relaxed. She was not hysterical, and she would not endanger the lives of four brave men who had risked everything to help her.
    It could have been five minutes or fifty, but at last the noise receded, and she was left alone in the shelter with only the quiet tapping of rain over her head.
    A faint sound had her head snapping up. She stared into the darkness, not even blinking.
    â€œEmma.”
    The low murmur near her ear brought a flood of relief. A strong hand encircled her upper arm and gently pulled her to her feet.
    â€œEmma, it’s me.”
    â€œI know.” She clutched his vest.
    â€œHoney, we need to move.”

EIGHT
----
    M ove where?” she whispered. “It’s not time yet, is it?”
    â€œChange of plan.”
    A shadow shifted closer in the dark, and Emma suddenly realized she was surrounded by the rest of Ryan’s team—big, silent shadows that had materialized out of nowhere. They spoke to one another in low voices using jargon she didn’t understand. But she got the definite impression that something was wrong.
    Ryan knelt at her feet and started stuffing gear into his pack.
    â€œWhat was that noise?” she whispered.
    â€œWhat noise?”
    â€œThe rustling noise before you left the shelter?”
    â€œThat was the sound of two dozen heavily armed but poorly trained men trying to sneak up the creek bed.” He stood up and shouldered his pack. “The noise you heard is called a battle rattle.”
    â€œBut why—”
    â€œHold on to me again,” he said, settling his hands on her waist. There was no counting this time as he lifted her up and over his shoulder, and before she could even catch her breath, they were sprinting through the forest. It was pitch-dark, and how he knew where he was going she had no idea.
    They were moving faster than ever, and they were heading down the hill, not up. What had happened to the hilltop extraction point? Was this the new plan?
    She gripped his vest for dear life, suddenly sweating all over—and she wasn’t even the one moving. But she could sense their urgency, and she knew something had gone very wrong.
    Rain continued to come down, soaking through her clothes and making her cling to his slick vest until her fingers felt sore. This island was covered with dense forest. They weren’t just going to run down some hill and magically come upon a helicopter landing pad. The only clearing would be the beach, most likely, and that might be far away, much farther than two clicks.
    His arm tightened on her legs, and he leaped over something. Emma made a little yelp and held tighter.
    Maybe there would be a boat. Was that too much to hope for?
    Yes.
    It was absolutely too much to hope for. The last few days had been one disaster after another, with the notable exception of finding Ryan beside the stream. Or Ryan finding her . His presence there had been no accident. His purpose in coming here had been to locate and rescue any survivors, and she was beginning to understand why her government had sent a SEAL team to do it.
    Another leap, but Emma managed to stifle a yelp. She gripped Ryan’s vest so hard she felt her fingernails breaking. She had to calm down. She had to be a help, not a hindrance. Whatever this new plan was, she had to suck it up and do her part. She closed her eyes and tried not to focus on the queasy feeling in her stomach as the journey dragged on.
    After endless monotonous minutes, he halted and muttered something she couldn’t hear. Was he talking to

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