Chapter NineCiara still stood with the machete poised in the air. She was astounded at having killed the snake and protected Domingo; numbed at the courage and tenacity that welled up from who knew where. The adrenaline rush that had helped her when she needed it most had filled her completely. As she glanced toward Pablo, she heard herself ask, “Men? What men?”
A tall dark figure of a man stepped into the doorway. From inside the shaded room, he looked to be nothing more than a silhouette against the bright sunlight outside. Ciara strained to focus. He eased a ten-pound bag of rice off his shoulder and dropped it to the floor in the corner. A second man carried a full jug of distilled water.
The men were American. The first extended his hand then withdrew it just as he saw the machete s
