El Corazon (5/10)
El Corazon (5/10)
Author: Amy
Pairing: Orlibean
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Never happened. This has been adapted from the movie Romancing the Stone - it does not belong to me no harm is meant and no money is being made.
Beta: The lovely giselleslash all remaining mistakes are mine.
Summary: Romance writer Orlando Bloom travels to Colombia to save his sister who has been kidnapped.
Note: This is for the orlibean Summer Movie Challenge. The movie I chose was Romancing the Stone. There are still plenty of movies to choose from so if you're interested in participating please follow the link above and join the fun.
Note #2: The Next part will be Posted on Sunday 8/12.
Previous Parts
Thanks to cammissbloom for my lovely banner and icon!
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Sean watched in amusement as the delicate ass swung about in the air. Orlando had been digging around for something behind a log near the puddle they’d landed in for five minutes. Sean wasn’t about to disrupt Orlando by asking what he was doing. He was enjoying the show way too much. Instead he leaned back against his tree and continued to watch with fascination until Orlando finally pulled back with a frown.
“What the hell are you doing?” Sean asked hoping his amusement was hidden by irritation.
“I lost a…” Orlando said pulling at his shirt sleeves, his frown growing as the sleeve he was pulling at ripped off in his hand. “…button.”
Sean laughed he couldn’t help it. Then he noticed that Orlando’s feet were bare and that his expensive shoes were laying on the ground. An idea formed as he took in the smooth soles of the shoes he knew those weren’t going to be any use climbing back up to the road. He stood, taking his pack, and walked over to where Orlando was sitting and picked up the discarded shoes. Orlando was too distracted by his shirt to notice.
“That’s not all you’re going to loose,” Sean said, easily tossing the shoes to the side into the middle of the puddle. They landed with a splash which drew Orlando’s attention.
“Hey!” Sean ignored Orlando’s squawk as he opened his pack and dug through the layers of extra clothing he had layered in there in case he ever needed it. “You idiot,” Orlando snapped at him in irritation. “You already threw away my suitcase, those were my only pair of shoes I had left…what am I supposed to wear?”
At the bottom of his pack Sean pulled out his extra pair of hiking boots and dangled them by the laces in front of Orlando’s nose. “Put those on,” he said effectively cutting off the tirade that Orlando had been in the middle of. “If they’re too big I’ve got some extra socks you can either put on or stuff in the toes. They’re better for the terrain than your shoes…easier to climb out of here.”
“Oh,” Orlando said softly as he reached out and took them from Sean. “Thank you.” He untied the knot in the laces and hurried to put them on. They seemed to fit well enough without needing any extra padding. As he tied the laces he glanced back up at Sean with a look that was still disgruntled. “You didn’t need to throw the other shoes away,” he said in annoyance. “I could have put them in my bag. Those were Italian!”
Sean shrugged but didn’t say anything. He had the feeling that Orlando wasn’t expecting any comment in return. There wasn’t much feeling behind the argument in the end and Sean, despite not knowing him at all, had the impression that despite the expensive things surrounding him Orlando wasn’t really a materialistic person. He wasn’t quite sure what had put that thought into his head given the evidence to the contrary, like his watch and his shoes and his suitcase, but it was there.
Once Orlando sat back from tying the shoes he returned to looking at his tattered shirt, he sighed and started unbuttoning the shirt revealing a white tank top underneath. Sean tried not to stare at the smooth skin on the arms revealed by the action or the occasional glimpse of an equally smooth chest. Orlando reached down and picked up his own backpack. He opened it and neatly folded up his shirt, placing it on top, before zipping it back up and pulling it over his shoulder as he stood up
“So what now?” he asked, pinning Sean with an expectant look.
“Now,” Sean said shaking his head to clear if of the cobwebs that had started to formed as he watched Orlando’s movements. “We…”
There was a sudden explosion from a tree close to where Sean was standing. Orlando yelped and Sean stared at the tree, now shattered with bits hanging off it in tattered sections. It wasn’t until the ground near his feet also exploded that he realized that they were being shot at. Once the realization hit him it pushed the confusion and shock to the side and forced him into action. Reaching out he grabbed the startled Orlando and pulled him towards him. Bloom gave another yelp as he was roughly pushed to the side as Sean positioned them against a nearby rocky outcrop placing Bloom behind him and the protective boulder as more shots rang out.
“What the hell…” Sean muttered as another hail of bullets exploded around them. “Get down,” he hissed pressing down on Orlando’s shoulder.
Orlando did as he was ordered without a word, pressing himself as low to the ground as he could manage. Satisfied that Bloom would be okay for the moment Sean dug into his pack. Needing to know exactly what was coming at them he pulled out his binoculars and eased himself up over the edge to peer in the direction the shots were coming from.
A good distance away, standing in a small clearing of trees, was a group of men in uniforms, police uniforms. Sean felt his heart sink a little at the sight, he knew that the Colombian police wouldn’t rest until they were brought down. He’d never had a direct run in with them over anything serious but he was on the fringes enough to have heard the horror stories. There was a dark flash of movement at the front of the men and as he followed it through the binoculars Sean’s stomach started to churn. It was the man from the bus. The man he had shot at.
He’d shot at a cop. Not just once but numerous times. Now the cop was back with reinforcements gunning for him. He frowned as he ducked back down and leaned back against the rock to try and process it further. But why had there been a cop by his jeep? He hadn’t done anything wrong…lately anyway. As he turned around he caught sight of Orlando still pressed almost fully to the ground with his hands over his head. Sean’s eyes narrowed as realization and anger coursed through him as he crouched down next to Orlando and yanked those hands off his head.
“You!” Sean said angrily. “They’re not after me…they’re after you!”
“Who?” Orlando asked in confusion.
“The cops,” Sean snapped. “Who are you?”
“I…I told you,” Orlando said nervously. “I’m a writer.”
Sean believed him but there had to be more to it than that, there was only one reason for a writer to come to Colombia. He narrowed his eyes and pinned Orlando with a no-nonsense look. “You’re not one of those stupid journalists who think it’s a grand idea to get an inside look at drug trafficking are you?”
“What!” Orlando asked in shock and shook his head. “No…no…I’m a novelist.”
“Writing a book about drug trafficking, perhaps?” He asked, not about to let Orlando off easily.
“No,” Orlando insisted firmly. “I write romance novels.”
Sean opened his mouth and then shut it quickly as Orlando’s words sank in. “Romance novels?” he asked incredulously. Doubt edged through him but there was something in Orlando’s expression that showed he was telling the truth.
“Yes, romance novels,” Orlando said again without the slightest trace of embarrassment or self-doubt in his voice.
There was so much that Sean could say to that proclamation but there was no time to even form the words in his head much less out loud. Another hail of bullets showered in front of the rock and it was obvious that the men had inched closer. Sean stared at Orlando, for whatever reason it was him they were after and Sean was left with few options. Stay where they were and protect this man that was only paying him $2,000, most of which was being given to him in the form of a watch that probably no longer worked. It really didn’t seem worth it in the end really. So Sean decided to go with option number two. As another shower of bullets hit the rock and the ground he tucked his binoculars back into his pack, shouldered it and then brushed past Orlando into the dense overgrowth pausing only a moment to send an explanation over his shoulders.
“That’s it…I’m out of here…” he said and took off through the trees.
“Hey wait,” Orlando called out behind him. “You can’t leave me here!”
Sean grunted and kept going forward. He had never said that he was going to leave Orlando behind nor had he really consciously thought about it like that. All he knew was that he wanted out of the area and out of the mess that he’d been dragged into. The mess that helping Orlando had dragged him into. A few hours earlier he’d been having a good day. He’d gotten enough birds that he could sell and pair that money up with the rest of the money he’d already saved towards getting his boat. He was almost there. Just a few more months and he could have been free on the sea with no worries other than those that he wanted to worry about.
There was more gunfire behind him and he was quickly reminded of just how many worries he now found himself with. The jungle started getting thicker and it was hard to see more than a few inches in front of him but his practiced eyes picked up the faded signs of a trail having once come through this area. Relieved, he pulled his machete from where it hung on his belt and started hacking at the undergrowth around him. The path he created was ragged but passable.
“Can you see where you’re going?”
Orlando’s voice close behind him nearly caused Sean to jump out of his skin. His voice was a lot angrier then it needed to be when he snapped an answer back at him. “I’m following an old path.”
“This is a path?” Orlando asked incredulously.
Sean didn’t bother to answer him, he just kept going forward through the undergrowth. He sensed that they were reaching a clearing from the way it seemed to start thinning. He was relieved to see that they were hitting the clearing and he kept going forward. He was shocked moments later when the ground disappeared from beneath him revealing a sheer drop down a cliff to a raging river far below.
He just managed to pull himself back and was gasping for breath when Orlando burst out of the jungle behind him. He followed the same path that Sean had, going forward at a full gate, only Sean reaching out and grabbing the back of his tank top and yanking him back saved him from plummeting downwards. As they stood there on the edge, panting to catch their breaths and calm their rapidly beating hearts, Sean scanned both directions.
To the right the jungle stretched to the edge of the cliff. It looked thick and tangled and would probably take a lot of time and work to get through it. On the right the way was clear for a good ways and revealed a bridge that stretched across the ravine. His heart jumped in relief until he took a closer look at the bridge and that relief vanished quickly. It was rickety and was missing more pieces then it had intact. The jungle had started to claim the bridge like it had the cliffs surrounding them; vines covered all available pieces they could get to and hung downwards into the ravine. How the bridge had managed to not have crashed down was a mystery that Sean knew he didn’t have any time to contemplate. A short distance beyond the bridge the clearing ended and there was more thick and twisted jungle. Sean could hear the police crashing through the jungle behind them. They’d be in the clearing in only a matter of seconds. There was only one course of action, he had to stand and fight.
Sean reached behind him and pulled out his gun. He knew it was probably a futile act. There were more police officers than he had bullets left, even if he managed to land every shot, which was unlikely. He walked to a group of trees that would provide some protection while pulling Orlando along with him. He shoved Orlando behind him and started to ready his gun.
“Get down,” he hissed at Orlando wondering how they were once again in this position.
“We can’t stay here,” Orlando hissed back.
“We’re out of options, Orlando,” Sean answered back evenly.
“What…no,” Orlando said tugging on Sean’s arm. “What about the bridge?”
“That’s not a bridge,” Sean said glancing over his shoulder at the rundown bridge. “That’s suicide.”
“Well isn’t staying here suicide?” Orlando asked.
Sean just grunted, it pretty much was, but at least against the police he had a fighting chance. “Get down,” he snapped at Orlando. Then he turned his back and crouched down himself while raising his gun. “Romance writer,” he muttered irritably under his breath as he waited for the right shot to present itself.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Orlando rolled his eyes at the muttered comment and looked wildly around the small area. He knew there weren’t many options but he wasn’t going to just stay here and not try to get away. He couldn’t just let himself get gunned down or taken in or arrested or whatever it was that would happen to him. He wouldn’t be any help to Samantha that way. Eyeing the bridge he sent one final glance to where Sean was crouched down getting ready to start shooting and then crossed over to it.
It wasn’t in good shape. Sean hadn’t lied when he said that it was suicide to try it. Most of the boards that had created the walkway were missing leaving large empty spaces that would be a stretch to jump across. The wood that was left was probably rotted and ready to fall away itself. The ropes holding it up didn’t look to be too strong either and it swayed wickedly in the small breeze that blew through the area. Beneath the bridge was a straight drop to the river below. It gave Orlando some hope. Though it was probably unlikely that he would survive the drop there was always an outside chance that he would if he fell from the bridge. It was a chance he was willing to take.
Taking a deep breath he grabbed the rope that was strung as a hand rail and eased onto the first slat of wood. The bridge groaned but held his weight. He slowly released the breath he’d been holding and concentrated on moving himself forward. One slow careful step after another he moved himself across the rickety bridge. Every once in a while one of the pieces he stepped on would splinter and part of it would fall to the river below, the distance too far to even see the splash.
Ahead he could see a large hole in the bridge. He wasn’t sure if it would be too large for him to step over. He tried to force himself to focus on the path to get there instead of getting too far ahead of himself. As another piece of food fell away beneath his foot he grabbed at the hand rope and took a ragged breath. It was a very good idea to concentrate on what he was doing, not on what was coming up down the way. He was preparing to take another step when the rope in his hand suddenly became slack as it broke free.
He stared at it in open shock for a split second as he tried to right himself back towards the middle of the bridge as he was jerked outwards. The bridge tipped under his weight and he slid downwards with a startled yelp. He gripped blindly at the rope as he found himself swinging over the open ravine. He closed his eyes, expecting the rope to snap under his weight sending him plummeting downwards. It did snap but only after he somehow managed to swing completely free of the ravine and through the jungle onto the other side.
When the rope finally snapped he found himself on his butt in the middle of leafy fronds. Shocked and confused he stared at his hands, they were red and starting to sting from where they had slid on the rope and gotten burned. The fact that he was safe was slow to come to him. He gasped for breath and then pawed at his pack. He calmed slightly as he caught sight of the map still safe in its protective plastic. Then he dug through it, pulling out the small bottle of alcohol he’d taken from the plane that had somehow managed to survive through the various crashes and falls.
With fumbling hands he managed to get it open and took a few hurried drinks wondering what could possibly happen next.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Sean whirled around in shock at Orlando’s startled cry. His eyes widened in fear as he saw Orlando in the middle of the bridge struggling to stay upright as it twisted sideways. Then in an almost comical action Orlando swung across the ravine to the other side with what looked like relative ease. Sean contemplated the action with a furrowed brow as the shouts of their pursuers grew closer and gunfire rang out around him. He stood and hurried over to the now useless bridge. There were vines hanging that looked strong enough to hold him and long enough to make it and if someone could do it on accident surely someone could also do it on purpose. Making a quick decision he reached over and using the machete he snapped off more of the ropes supporting the bridge. Not enough to cause it to go crashing down, because that would draw too much attention, but just enough that if they were stupid enough to follow it probably would. Then he replaced the knife, grabbed the longest looking vine, and closing his eyes and saying a silent prayer he swung himself out over the edge just as the police burst through the clearing behind him.
For a split second he thought he was going to make it as easily as Orlando had but that thought ended when he was slammed into the side of the cliff. For a moment he hung there trying to catch his breath and trying to ignore the pain that wracked his body. He didn’t have time for pain because he was dangling off the side of the cliff where he’d somehow managed to latch on to it with both hands. He had to get to the top before he lost strength or was shot at from the other side. Slowly he reached up and was relieved when his hand reached the top lip of the cliff that he had landed that far off. As carefully as possible he pulled himself upwards using all his remaining strength.
“Orlando,” he groaned, hoping that Orlando hadn’t been knocked out by his landing.
There was no response and Orlando didn’t appear over the top of the cliff. Through sheer determination Sean managed to get himself up and over the side. He lay there for a moment catching his breath and then dragged himself forward through the battered underbrush expecting to find Orlando’s crumpled body on the other side.
Instead he was greeted by the sight of Orlando sitting cross-legged with his pack in his lap and fighting with the top of an airline sized bottle of booze. Sean gaped at the sight as Orlando finally got it open and took a few quick drinks. With a moan he pulled himself to his feet, dabbing at his bleeding nose as he glared down at Orlando.
“You’re sitting here drinking?” he snapped in irritation, then he reached out and snagged the bottle, draining all but a few drops before passing it back to Orlando.
“So…so…sorry…” Orlando stuttered after downing the rest of it. He was shaking and clearly affected by his surprise flight across the ravine.
Sean sighed and stared down at the man that had caused him so much trouble since the very moment he laid eyes on him. “Give me one reason why I shouldn’t just leave you behind?”
“Because,” Orlando said, his voice was stronger but his legs were shaky as he dragged himself to his feet. “That wouldn’t be very nice.”
“Where did you get the impression that I was a nice guy?” Sean asked incredulously.
Orlando shrugged and fixed him with a determined look. “You won’t leave me because if you take me to a telephone you’ll get $2,000…”
“I’m beginning to think that the trouble you’re bringing me isn’t worth $2, 000,” Sean said tightly, though he wasn’t telling the truth. He was in desperate need of that money and Orlando would probably realize that if he was paying any sort of attention at all.
“And if you take me to Cartagena…”
“There’s no way I’m taking you all the way to Cartagena.”
“If you take me to Cartagena,” Orlando continued as if he hadn’t been interrupted. “I can get a hold of my agent and he can wire me $10,000 to give to you.”
Sean blinked in open shock, he opened his mouth to respond but no sound came out. Orlando regarded him calmly. “You have access to $10,000?”
“Yeah,” Orlando answered easily.
Sean stared at him through narrowed eyes but there was not the slightest hint of deception on Orlando’s face. The revelation still stunned Sean. “What sort of romance writer are you?”
“A good one,” Orlando answered without a moment’s hesitation.
Sean stood momentarily undecided what to do. Orlando was trouble. The kind of trouble that could get you killed. But there was really no way that he could turn down even the possibility of $10,000. He could put up with all the trouble in the world if it meant he could be on his boat in the middle of the ocean within a month’s time.
“Well come on,” he said sharply as he turned his back and stalked off. “Let’s go.”
And with that they disappeared into the jungle once more.
* * *
TBC
Forward to: Part Six
Back to: El Corazon Fic Index
Author: Amy
Pairing: Orlibean
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Never happened. This has been adapted from the movie Romancing the Stone - it does not belong to me no harm is meant and no money is being made.
Beta: The lovely giselleslash all remaining mistakes are mine.
Summary: Romance writer Orlando Bloom travels to Colombia to save his sister who has been kidnapped.
Note: This is for the orlibean Summer Movie Challenge. The movie I chose was Romancing the Stone. There are still plenty of movies to choose from so if you're interested in participating please follow the link above and join the fun.
Note #2: The Next part will be Posted on Sunday 8/12.
Previous Parts
Thanks to cammissbloom for my lovely banner and icon!
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Sean watched in amusement as the delicate ass swung about in the air. Orlando had been digging around for something behind a log near the puddle they’d landed in for five minutes. Sean wasn’t about to disrupt Orlando by asking what he was doing. He was enjoying the show way too much. Instead he leaned back against his tree and continued to watch with fascination until Orlando finally pulled back with a frown.
“What the hell are you doing?” Sean asked hoping his amusement was hidden by irritation.
“I lost a…” Orlando said pulling at his shirt sleeves, his frown growing as the sleeve he was pulling at ripped off in his hand. “…button.”
Sean laughed he couldn’t help it. Then he noticed that Orlando’s feet were bare and that his expensive shoes were laying on the ground. An idea formed as he took in the smooth soles of the shoes he knew those weren’t going to be any use climbing back up to the road. He stood, taking his pack, and walked over to where Orlando was sitting and picked up the discarded shoes. Orlando was too distracted by his shirt to notice.
“That’s not all you’re going to loose,” Sean said, easily tossing the shoes to the side into the middle of the puddle. They landed with a splash which drew Orlando’s attention.
“Hey!” Sean ignored Orlando’s squawk as he opened his pack and dug through the layers of extra clothing he had layered in there in case he ever needed it. “You idiot,” Orlando snapped at him in irritation. “You already threw away my suitcase, those were my only pair of shoes I had left…what am I supposed to wear?”
At the bottom of his pack Sean pulled out his extra pair of hiking boots and dangled them by the laces in front of Orlando’s nose. “Put those on,” he said effectively cutting off the tirade that Orlando had been in the middle of. “If they’re too big I’ve got some extra socks you can either put on or stuff in the toes. They’re better for the terrain than your shoes…easier to climb out of here.”
“Oh,” Orlando said softly as he reached out and took them from Sean. “Thank you.” He untied the knot in the laces and hurried to put them on. They seemed to fit well enough without needing any extra padding. As he tied the laces he glanced back up at Sean with a look that was still disgruntled. “You didn’t need to throw the other shoes away,” he said in annoyance. “I could have put them in my bag. Those were Italian!”
Sean shrugged but didn’t say anything. He had the feeling that Orlando wasn’t expecting any comment in return. There wasn’t much feeling behind the argument in the end and Sean, despite not knowing him at all, had the impression that despite the expensive things surrounding him Orlando wasn’t really a materialistic person. He wasn’t quite sure what had put that thought into his head given the evidence to the contrary, like his watch and his shoes and his suitcase, but it was there.
Once Orlando sat back from tying the shoes he returned to looking at his tattered shirt, he sighed and started unbuttoning the shirt revealing a white tank top underneath. Sean tried not to stare at the smooth skin on the arms revealed by the action or the occasional glimpse of an equally smooth chest. Orlando reached down and picked up his own backpack. He opened it and neatly folded up his shirt, placing it on top, before zipping it back up and pulling it over his shoulder as he stood up
“So what now?” he asked, pinning Sean with an expectant look.
“Now,” Sean said shaking his head to clear if of the cobwebs that had started to formed as he watched Orlando’s movements. “We…”
There was a sudden explosion from a tree close to where Sean was standing. Orlando yelped and Sean stared at the tree, now shattered with bits hanging off it in tattered sections. It wasn’t until the ground near his feet also exploded that he realized that they were being shot at. Once the realization hit him it pushed the confusion and shock to the side and forced him into action. Reaching out he grabbed the startled Orlando and pulled him towards him. Bloom gave another yelp as he was roughly pushed to the side as Sean positioned them against a nearby rocky outcrop placing Bloom behind him and the protective boulder as more shots rang out.
“What the hell…” Sean muttered as another hail of bullets exploded around them. “Get down,” he hissed pressing down on Orlando’s shoulder.
Orlando did as he was ordered without a word, pressing himself as low to the ground as he could manage. Satisfied that Bloom would be okay for the moment Sean dug into his pack. Needing to know exactly what was coming at them he pulled out his binoculars and eased himself up over the edge to peer in the direction the shots were coming from.
A good distance away, standing in a small clearing of trees, was a group of men in uniforms, police uniforms. Sean felt his heart sink a little at the sight, he knew that the Colombian police wouldn’t rest until they were brought down. He’d never had a direct run in with them over anything serious but he was on the fringes enough to have heard the horror stories. There was a dark flash of movement at the front of the men and as he followed it through the binoculars Sean’s stomach started to churn. It was the man from the bus. The man he had shot at.
He’d shot at a cop. Not just once but numerous times. Now the cop was back with reinforcements gunning for him. He frowned as he ducked back down and leaned back against the rock to try and process it further. But why had there been a cop by his jeep? He hadn’t done anything wrong…lately anyway. As he turned around he caught sight of Orlando still pressed almost fully to the ground with his hands over his head. Sean’s eyes narrowed as realization and anger coursed through him as he crouched down next to Orlando and yanked those hands off his head.
“You!” Sean said angrily. “They’re not after me…they’re after you!”
“Who?” Orlando asked in confusion.
“The cops,” Sean snapped. “Who are you?”
“I…I told you,” Orlando said nervously. “I’m a writer.”
Sean believed him but there had to be more to it than that, there was only one reason for a writer to come to Colombia. He narrowed his eyes and pinned Orlando with a no-nonsense look. “You’re not one of those stupid journalists who think it’s a grand idea to get an inside look at drug trafficking are you?”
“What!” Orlando asked in shock and shook his head. “No…no…I’m a novelist.”
“Writing a book about drug trafficking, perhaps?” He asked, not about to let Orlando off easily.
“No,” Orlando insisted firmly. “I write romance novels.”
Sean opened his mouth and then shut it quickly as Orlando’s words sank in. “Romance novels?” he asked incredulously. Doubt edged through him but there was something in Orlando’s expression that showed he was telling the truth.
“Yes, romance novels,” Orlando said again without the slightest trace of embarrassment or self-doubt in his voice.
There was so much that Sean could say to that proclamation but there was no time to even form the words in his head much less out loud. Another hail of bullets showered in front of the rock and it was obvious that the men had inched closer. Sean stared at Orlando, for whatever reason it was him they were after and Sean was left with few options. Stay where they were and protect this man that was only paying him $2,000, most of which was being given to him in the form of a watch that probably no longer worked. It really didn’t seem worth it in the end really. So Sean decided to go with option number two. As another shower of bullets hit the rock and the ground he tucked his binoculars back into his pack, shouldered it and then brushed past Orlando into the dense overgrowth pausing only a moment to send an explanation over his shoulders.
“That’s it…I’m out of here…” he said and took off through the trees.
“Hey wait,” Orlando called out behind him. “You can’t leave me here!”
Sean grunted and kept going forward. He had never said that he was going to leave Orlando behind nor had he really consciously thought about it like that. All he knew was that he wanted out of the area and out of the mess that he’d been dragged into. The mess that helping Orlando had dragged him into. A few hours earlier he’d been having a good day. He’d gotten enough birds that he could sell and pair that money up with the rest of the money he’d already saved towards getting his boat. He was almost there. Just a few more months and he could have been free on the sea with no worries other than those that he wanted to worry about.
There was more gunfire behind him and he was quickly reminded of just how many worries he now found himself with. The jungle started getting thicker and it was hard to see more than a few inches in front of him but his practiced eyes picked up the faded signs of a trail having once come through this area. Relieved, he pulled his machete from where it hung on his belt and started hacking at the undergrowth around him. The path he created was ragged but passable.
“Can you see where you’re going?”
Orlando’s voice close behind him nearly caused Sean to jump out of his skin. His voice was a lot angrier then it needed to be when he snapped an answer back at him. “I’m following an old path.”
“This is a path?” Orlando asked incredulously.
Sean didn’t bother to answer him, he just kept going forward through the undergrowth. He sensed that they were reaching a clearing from the way it seemed to start thinning. He was relieved to see that they were hitting the clearing and he kept going forward. He was shocked moments later when the ground disappeared from beneath him revealing a sheer drop down a cliff to a raging river far below.
He just managed to pull himself back and was gasping for breath when Orlando burst out of the jungle behind him. He followed the same path that Sean had, going forward at a full gate, only Sean reaching out and grabbing the back of his tank top and yanking him back saved him from plummeting downwards. As they stood there on the edge, panting to catch their breaths and calm their rapidly beating hearts, Sean scanned both directions.
To the right the jungle stretched to the edge of the cliff. It looked thick and tangled and would probably take a lot of time and work to get through it. On the right the way was clear for a good ways and revealed a bridge that stretched across the ravine. His heart jumped in relief until he took a closer look at the bridge and that relief vanished quickly. It was rickety and was missing more pieces then it had intact. The jungle had started to claim the bridge like it had the cliffs surrounding them; vines covered all available pieces they could get to and hung downwards into the ravine. How the bridge had managed to not have crashed down was a mystery that Sean knew he didn’t have any time to contemplate. A short distance beyond the bridge the clearing ended and there was more thick and twisted jungle. Sean could hear the police crashing through the jungle behind them. They’d be in the clearing in only a matter of seconds. There was only one course of action, he had to stand and fight.
Sean reached behind him and pulled out his gun. He knew it was probably a futile act. There were more police officers than he had bullets left, even if he managed to land every shot, which was unlikely. He walked to a group of trees that would provide some protection while pulling Orlando along with him. He shoved Orlando behind him and started to ready his gun.
“Get down,” he hissed at Orlando wondering how they were once again in this position.
“We can’t stay here,” Orlando hissed back.
“We’re out of options, Orlando,” Sean answered back evenly.
“What…no,” Orlando said tugging on Sean’s arm. “What about the bridge?”
“That’s not a bridge,” Sean said glancing over his shoulder at the rundown bridge. “That’s suicide.”
“Well isn’t staying here suicide?” Orlando asked.
Sean just grunted, it pretty much was, but at least against the police he had a fighting chance. “Get down,” he snapped at Orlando. Then he turned his back and crouched down himself while raising his gun. “Romance writer,” he muttered irritably under his breath as he waited for the right shot to present itself.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Orlando rolled his eyes at the muttered comment and looked wildly around the small area. He knew there weren’t many options but he wasn’t going to just stay here and not try to get away. He couldn’t just let himself get gunned down or taken in or arrested or whatever it was that would happen to him. He wouldn’t be any help to Samantha that way. Eyeing the bridge he sent one final glance to where Sean was crouched down getting ready to start shooting and then crossed over to it.
It wasn’t in good shape. Sean hadn’t lied when he said that it was suicide to try it. Most of the boards that had created the walkway were missing leaving large empty spaces that would be a stretch to jump across. The wood that was left was probably rotted and ready to fall away itself. The ropes holding it up didn’t look to be too strong either and it swayed wickedly in the small breeze that blew through the area. Beneath the bridge was a straight drop to the river below. It gave Orlando some hope. Though it was probably unlikely that he would survive the drop there was always an outside chance that he would if he fell from the bridge. It was a chance he was willing to take.
Taking a deep breath he grabbed the rope that was strung as a hand rail and eased onto the first slat of wood. The bridge groaned but held his weight. He slowly released the breath he’d been holding and concentrated on moving himself forward. One slow careful step after another he moved himself across the rickety bridge. Every once in a while one of the pieces he stepped on would splinter and part of it would fall to the river below, the distance too far to even see the splash.
Ahead he could see a large hole in the bridge. He wasn’t sure if it would be too large for him to step over. He tried to force himself to focus on the path to get there instead of getting too far ahead of himself. As another piece of food fell away beneath his foot he grabbed at the hand rope and took a ragged breath. It was a very good idea to concentrate on what he was doing, not on what was coming up down the way. He was preparing to take another step when the rope in his hand suddenly became slack as it broke free.
He stared at it in open shock for a split second as he tried to right himself back towards the middle of the bridge as he was jerked outwards. The bridge tipped under his weight and he slid downwards with a startled yelp. He gripped blindly at the rope as he found himself swinging over the open ravine. He closed his eyes, expecting the rope to snap under his weight sending him plummeting downwards. It did snap but only after he somehow managed to swing completely free of the ravine and through the jungle onto the other side.
When the rope finally snapped he found himself on his butt in the middle of leafy fronds. Shocked and confused he stared at his hands, they were red and starting to sting from where they had slid on the rope and gotten burned. The fact that he was safe was slow to come to him. He gasped for breath and then pawed at his pack. He calmed slightly as he caught sight of the map still safe in its protective plastic. Then he dug through it, pulling out the small bottle of alcohol he’d taken from the plane that had somehow managed to survive through the various crashes and falls.
With fumbling hands he managed to get it open and took a few hurried drinks wondering what could possibly happen next.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Sean whirled around in shock at Orlando’s startled cry. His eyes widened in fear as he saw Orlando in the middle of the bridge struggling to stay upright as it twisted sideways. Then in an almost comical action Orlando swung across the ravine to the other side with what looked like relative ease. Sean contemplated the action with a furrowed brow as the shouts of their pursuers grew closer and gunfire rang out around him. He stood and hurried over to the now useless bridge. There were vines hanging that looked strong enough to hold him and long enough to make it and if someone could do it on accident surely someone could also do it on purpose. Making a quick decision he reached over and using the machete he snapped off more of the ropes supporting the bridge. Not enough to cause it to go crashing down, because that would draw too much attention, but just enough that if they were stupid enough to follow it probably would. Then he replaced the knife, grabbed the longest looking vine, and closing his eyes and saying a silent prayer he swung himself out over the edge just as the police burst through the clearing behind him.
For a split second he thought he was going to make it as easily as Orlando had but that thought ended when he was slammed into the side of the cliff. For a moment he hung there trying to catch his breath and trying to ignore the pain that wracked his body. He didn’t have time for pain because he was dangling off the side of the cliff where he’d somehow managed to latch on to it with both hands. He had to get to the top before he lost strength or was shot at from the other side. Slowly he reached up and was relieved when his hand reached the top lip of the cliff that he had landed that far off. As carefully as possible he pulled himself upwards using all his remaining strength.
“Orlando,” he groaned, hoping that Orlando hadn’t been knocked out by his landing.
There was no response and Orlando didn’t appear over the top of the cliff. Through sheer determination Sean managed to get himself up and over the side. He lay there for a moment catching his breath and then dragged himself forward through the battered underbrush expecting to find Orlando’s crumpled body on the other side.
Instead he was greeted by the sight of Orlando sitting cross-legged with his pack in his lap and fighting with the top of an airline sized bottle of booze. Sean gaped at the sight as Orlando finally got it open and took a few quick drinks. With a moan he pulled himself to his feet, dabbing at his bleeding nose as he glared down at Orlando.
“You’re sitting here drinking?” he snapped in irritation, then he reached out and snagged the bottle, draining all but a few drops before passing it back to Orlando.
“So…so…sorry…” Orlando stuttered after downing the rest of it. He was shaking and clearly affected by his surprise flight across the ravine.
Sean sighed and stared down at the man that had caused him so much trouble since the very moment he laid eyes on him. “Give me one reason why I shouldn’t just leave you behind?”
“Because,” Orlando said, his voice was stronger but his legs were shaky as he dragged himself to his feet. “That wouldn’t be very nice.”
“Where did you get the impression that I was a nice guy?” Sean asked incredulously.
Orlando shrugged and fixed him with a determined look. “You won’t leave me because if you take me to a telephone you’ll get $2,000…”
“I’m beginning to think that the trouble you’re bringing me isn’t worth $2, 000,” Sean said tightly, though he wasn’t telling the truth. He was in desperate need of that money and Orlando would probably realize that if he was paying any sort of attention at all.
“And if you take me to Cartagena…”
“There’s no way I’m taking you all the way to Cartagena.”
“If you take me to Cartagena,” Orlando continued as if he hadn’t been interrupted. “I can get a hold of my agent and he can wire me $10,000 to give to you.”
Sean blinked in open shock, he opened his mouth to respond but no sound came out. Orlando regarded him calmly. “You have access to $10,000?”
“Yeah,” Orlando answered easily.
Sean stared at him through narrowed eyes but there was not the slightest hint of deception on Orlando’s face. The revelation still stunned Sean. “What sort of romance writer are you?”
“A good one,” Orlando answered without a moment’s hesitation.
Sean stood momentarily undecided what to do. Orlando was trouble. The kind of trouble that could get you killed. But there was really no way that he could turn down even the possibility of $10,000. He could put up with all the trouble in the world if it meant he could be on his boat in the middle of the ocean within a month’s time.
“Well come on,” he said sharply as he turned his back and stalked off. “Let’s go.”
And with that they disappeared into the jungle once more.
* * *
TBC
Forward to: Part Six
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