Words of Love

chapter TWO



Brett could move fast.

As her suitcase bumped along behind her, Jesse struggled to keep up. The rising wind was blowing the rain nearly horizontal. It stung, even through the clothes.

At one point, she’d nearly lost him. He turned around regularly to check on her and had even tried to take her suitcase for her.

She’d been mortified. That was the last thing she wanted–to have Professor Brett Delacourt think she couldn’t handle her own stuff. But through the rain spattered glasses and growing darkness, she’d looked up at one point and saw only trees. She’d broken into a run and then tripped only to find him helping her up in the pelting rain and then he’d tried to carry her luggage. She’d insisted on taking it herself.

Now she wondered if that’d been wise. It felt like an anchor.

The canopy above them was nearly black, lit only occasionally by flashes of lightning, which was happening with greater frequency. The tops of the impossibly tall trees swayed violently.

Below her feet she saw that they were on some kind of muddy path. It was almost a small stream with all the water running down it.

She was breathing harder than she had in her entire life. The humidity was stifling. Trekking in the jungle was something that yoga hadn’t prepared her for, but she kept an eye on the yellow trim of Jason’s backpack. He seemed to know exactly where he was going.

All she had to do was keep up.



• • • • •



They had to be close now, Brett thought, but the storm was hiding the usual visual cues. The great mound was barely visible in the dense forest at the best of times. This had to be the path. There was only one. Even Tropical Storm Angela didn’t change that.

And what a storm it was. He’d never seen one this bad. He’d been in the field since his undergrad days and he’d never seen anything like this.

Monsoon–a huge one.

Again he cursed himself and turned to check on Jessica. She was struggling, he could see it, but she wouldn’t let him help. Instead, she dragged the suitcase and kept her feet moving.

The wind was driving the rain into them and they were both panting. The uphill climb on the slick path was getting steeper. But they were nearly on top of the site. Just a little further to go.

“Almost there,” he yelled to her over the thunder, just as the jungle lit up all around them and the air exploded.

Almost as though it were a strobe effect, he watched as Jessica was hurled forward. A tree, about ten yards behind her near the path, burst into pieces as Brett realized what was happening.

Lightning strike.

Jessica thudded into his chest. He instinctively grabbed her and held tight as he landed on his backpack with a grunt. His eyes had shut tight against the sudden glare but he snapped them open as they rolled awkwardly off the backpack to their sides. They landed on the ground with a splash.

He looked down at her.

“Jessica, are you okay?”

He saw her blink through the glasses, though they sat askew on her face. He kept hold of her, even though they were on the ground.

“Jessica!” he tried again, shaking her a little. Rain was streaming over her face but she shakily pushed her glasses up her nose. “Are you okay?” he said.

She slowly nodded.

He wasn’t sure if that was true but he hoped so. They needed to get out of this storm. The path where they lay had turned into a creek.

“We’ve got to go,” he said, as he let her go.

He stood up, a little shaky himself. Then he reached down under both her arms and pulled her up to stand. She wobbled for a moment but straightened her hat and then started looking for something–her suitcase.

They saw it at the same time, lying in the path, almost covered with muddy water. As she turned to fetch it, Brett saw her back. The fabric was singed.

“Oh my god,” he said but she hadn’t heard in the downpour and the wind.



• • • • •



Jesse’s retinas still glowed with the lightning flash but she sloshed to the luggage and found the handle. She heaved it to its wheels and turned.

Brett was staring at her but there was hardly time to notice. Behind him, from upslope, something was coming. Something white, moving fast.

She wanted to say something, scream for him to move, but her throat was frozen. He was reaching out to her now and, as he extended his hand, she grabbed it.

As she dove off the path, she tugged him with her, off balance.

A white wall of boiling water surged past their feet, down the hill, as they fell into the thick foliage of the jungle floor. In moments, Brett was up and screaming something. The ringing in her ears made it impossible to understand the words but the look on his face was enough.

They were in trouble.