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“You’re gonna have to jump with me.” Ledger’s tone was quiet yet urgent. “When it’s time to jump, don’t make me drag you. We’re gonna need to get the chute open ASAP, which means we need to work together. Hold on tight, try not to panic, and we’ll make it okay.”

“Promise?”

“As much as I can.”

The asshat with the gun gestured at Ledger. “Open the door.”

“What? You’re not gonna give us valet service?”

“Funny guy. Oh, yeah. Here. You’ll need this.” He tossed what looked like a small black cell phone at Ledger, who caught it easily and pocketed it after a brief glance.

The pounding of my heart almost drowned the sound of the wind when Ledger opened the door. The plane bounced as wind flooded the cabin, increasing the turbulence. I tried not to look at the carpet of greenery some eight hundred feet below.

“Seven hundred.”

Fine. Seven hundred feet below. But I couldn’t help looking. Trees, lots of them, interspersed with splashes of aqua and brown.

“God, I don’t want to do this.”

I didn’t realize I’d spoken out loud until Ledger gave me a reassuring squeeze with one arm.

“Look at the bright side,” he said into my ear so only I could hear him.

“There’s a bright side?”

“He’s not making us use a raft.”

I gave a choked laugh. I hated Temple of Doom. “If you call me Willie, I will kill you.”

Joe looked at me. “You ready?”

“No fucking way.” I took a deep breath, then exhaled. “Let’s go.”

“Good.”

“Six hundred feet.” Asshat tapped his wrist in a time’s a-wasting gesture.

Ledger tossed a salute toward Asshat and shouted, “Nice try, Lao Che!”

My laugh turned into a scream of terror as we jumped.

Ever been on one of those rides at an amusement park where you wait in line for an hour and then are basically hurtling to the ground in free fall?

This was so much worse.

At least I didn’t pay money for it, though, right?

I kept my eyes squeezed shut and held on for all I was worth, which, considering my wild-card strength, was worth quite a bit. Even so, when the chute deployed, the jolt nearly dislodged my grip. I managed to keep hold of the harness as we resumed our drop at a somewhat more leisurely pace.

Maybe we’ll live through this after all, I thought, clinging to Ledger like a baby koala with separation anxiety.

Then we hit the canopy of trees. Branches whipped against my back, legs, and arms. It stung even through the fabric of my shirt and pants. I kept my face buried against Ledger’s chest to avoid getting an eye poked out.

Then our descent stopped with a bone-rattling suddenness. Something wrenched my right arm with white-hot pain and the back of my head collided with something hard—

And the lights went out.

* * *

I woke up to a throbbing pain in my right arm, a headache, and the all-too-familiar sound of moaning as something pawed at my feet.

If it’s Tuesday, it must be zombies.

I opened my eyes slowly, waiting for the initial wave of dizziness to subside before checking out my surroundings.

I was sprawled over a branch, my right arm still wrapped around Joe, who dangled from the parachute canopy spread out in the tree limbs above us. My wrist was still entwined in the harness and the weight of Joe’s inert form threatened to dislocate my shoulder.

I carefully extricated myself and took stock of my situation.

Head. Aching, but no double vision or residual dizziness.

Arm. Sore, but nothing that would slow me down if I needed to use it.

Attitude. In dire need of an adjustment.

Sense of humor. MIA.

I looked toward the ground, where a half dozen extra-gooey and rapidly decaying zombies gathered beneath us, flesh oozing off the bones in the tropical heat.

One of the zoms, a tall, skinny one wearing nothing but the tattered remains of blue board shorts, kept batting at my dangling feet. Thankfully it fell short an inch or so from being able to get a good grip and pull either of us down.

“No lunch for you,” I growled, and pulled my feet up.

Sweat trickled down my forehead and in between my breasts under the Kevlar. The humidity was through the roof, and the temperature, even in the shade, had to be in the upper nineties. My ears buzzed and at first I thought it was a side effect from the fall. Then I recognized the sound of insects.

Lots of them.

“And people pay to come here on holiday?”

“Most people stay in nice villas or hotels by the beach.”

I turned back to Joe, who was now awake and evidently nonplussed at being treed above a bunch of zombies. He rubbed the back of his head.

“You okay?” I asked.

“I’ll live,” he said. “You?”

“I am profoundly grateful to not be a red smear on the ground about now,” I replied. I paused and then added, “Thank you.”

He grinned. “Thanks for not barfing on me.”

Something chirped in one of his pockets. He pulled out the little black rectangle Asshat had tossed him before we’d jumped.

“Is it a phone?” I asked hopefully.

Joe shook his head. “Looks like some kind of a GPS device. A little more high-tech than your typical geocaching gadget.”

“That’s the adult version of a treasure hunt, right?”

“Yup. And it looks like someone’s sending us on one.” He pointed to two black dots on the screen. “This is us.” His finger indicated a set of coordinates. “And that’s whatever we’re supposed to find. Looks to be in the general vicinity.

“Gotta get down from here and past this bunch first.”

I smiled and patted the tanto, still sheathed across my chest. “Allow me to show you what I learned in my two months in the field.”

* * *

It didn’t take me long to clear out the zombies. They were in pretty crappy shape, what with the hot and humid climate, and they stank to hell and back.

Joe let me do my job without argument. When I’d finished the last zombie, he climbed down from the tree. He looked around and gave a nod. “Good job.”

I shrugged, trying to hide my pleasure at his approval.

He looked at the GPS and set off on a rough trail of sorts through the overgrowth. I followed, still holding my tanto while keeping my eyes on the ground and my ears open for the moans of the walking dead. For the time being, though, all I heard was a gentle chorus of frogs mixed with the ever-present buzzing of insects, punctuated by the occasional bird and monkey call. A black-and-yellow snake slithered across the path and a line of leaf-cutter ants scurried back and forth on a branch, carrying sections of leaves four or five times their size. Large flowers splashed vibrant colors against the green-and-brown background of the jungle.

The whole effect was kind of cool and even pretty, but the heat and humidity were soul-crushing, and there was no shortage of mosquitoes and flies attracted to the sweat now streaming down my face, neck, chest, and back.

“It’s like the Tiki Room at Disneyland,” I commented as we walked. “Except in hell.”

Joe snorted, then gave a satisfied grunt. “Here we are.”

A tangle of colorful flowering vines mostly covered a large white sealed bucket. Upon closer inspection, it proved to be a detergent container, probably purchased at Costco.

Joe studied it for a minute, then reached into the tangle of vines and pulled it out by its metal handle. He popped the top off to reveal two bottled waters, two protein bars. Joe held up the bars with a disgusted look. “Atkins?”