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Forgiveness and acceptance can wait.
Escape can’t.
Deke tenses in my arms—he hears the roaring pursuit too.
The Myanmar jungle night no longer feels peaceful. The massive trees, trailing overgrown fingerling branches into the shallows at either side of the river, loom like brick walls, impenetrable and burned-out and broken as Deke and I are. The sky is a dark empty vault overhead, pitiless stars burning pinpricks in the night vision goggles. Even the river is flowing more quickly, like it’s caught our urgency.
I’d blown up one dock. Taken out the boats.
But now, my exhaustion-fogged brain reminds me that the security system showed two docks.
Forget the IQ tests, the degrees, the research paper my prof was willing to kill me to steal: I’m an i***t.
The night vision goggles only
