Page 10 of Colombian Chemistry

My heart raced even faster. “What’s happening, John?”

“The Jungle Kings patrol these roads and force travelers to pay tolls.”

“Can’t we just pay them? How much? Do you have money?”

John shook his head. “It’s not the money I’m worried about. I can pay, but with how many men were hunting you before, there is a solid chance they know what you look like. If these men have seen your photo, and if you’re as valuable to them as it seems, we’re in for a world of trouble.”

“Can we turn around?”

“No. This road barely fits us as is. There isn’t anywhere I can go other than straight at them. It’s why they chose this spot to shake down travelers.”

“Oh God,” I breathed. “What do I do?”

John gestured to the seat behind me. “See that bag?”

“Yeah.”

“Quick, reach back and unzip the side pocket. There’s a camouflage hat in there. Put it on.”

I did as he said and grabbed the baseball cap out of the bag and pulled it over my head. “Now what?”

“Well, that depends.”

“On what?”

“On if you’re religious.”

I furrowed my brow. “Religious? Well, I am. Kinda, I guess. I mean, I don’t go to church or anything like that, but I was raised Catholic.”

John looked over and arched a dark eyebrow. “Well then, it’s time to fucking pray.”

CHAPTER FOUR

Irene

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I started tossing Hail Mary’s up on repeat as we continued bumping down the road toward the Jeep with six men patrolling around it. As we got closer, one of them lifted his scary-looking automatic weapon in the air and fired a few rounds.

“Hail Mary full of grace,” I kept on as I tried to swallow the bile building up in my throat. I regretted that I hadn’t been to church in years and vowed my ass would be in the front pew every Sunday from now on if I could just get out of this God-forsaken country alive.

“Don’t say a word,” John commanded as we rolled to a stop.

A barrage of Spanish words came out of the imposing man’s mouth as he approached the vehicle.

“No hablo Español,” John called to him.

“Fucking gringos,” he sneered back as he approached the driver’s side window.

“How can we help you, gentlemen?” John asked calmly.

“Two thousand pesos to pass,” the man said as he leaned in, his dark eyes roving over both of us. “That’s one hundred US dollars if you can’t do the math.”

“No problem. I’m just going to reach down here and get you some money,” John said.

As he pulled the bills out of his wallet, I stared down at my feet but felt the man’s eyes appraising every inch of me. I pulled the bottom of my skirt down over my knees and continued the stream of prayers I had going on repeat.

“You,” the man said. “Why so shy?”