Blank - Cambria Hebert Page 0,1

rocked the V22, the impact snapped my head back, and the force of the bomb propelled me out the door. Flames licked at me, following me through the hatch and into the sky. I hadn’t the time to plan the jump; I was basically thrown from the plane. Fortunately, my brothers had. I knew they were probably far closer to the ground than I and they were together.

Unfortunately, I wasn’t alone.

I was sharing the sky with bits of the plane that moments ago had been carrying us home.

A very large piece of debris hurled through the sky right at me. I had enough time to pull the ripcord on my chute before it slammed into me and everything went black.

* * *

I was conscious. But instead of allowing my eyes to fly open, instead of jack-knifing into a sitting position, I held perfectly still. Giving away the fact that I knew what was going on around me could be a mistake. I had yet to ascertain where I was, if I was safe, and if I was among friend or foe. I held my eyes closed, forcing my face to remain relaxed and my body limp.

It was quiet here.

I wasn’t lying in the sand and I wasn’t in a plane either. I was indoors, inside a place that didn’t smell like sweat and blood, so it was possible I wasn’t being held prisoner. Then again, maybe I was meeting the first ever kidnappers who cared about cleanliness.

From out of the quiet came the sound of water being poured, and then the strike of a match followed. I resisted the urge to open my eyes. The sound of the flame catching and lighting filled my ears, but I wasn’t concerned. It wasn’t a large flame. Then the soft sound of a curse took my attention.

That sound almost made my eyes spring open.

It was the sound of a woman.

A woman who was cursing indelicately at a burned finger.

My lips actually twitched in a smile.

But then my almost-smile faded. The sounds I was listening to were faint at best. Why were they so clear to my ears? I lay there listening, her curses dying out and the only sound being the small flame. I heard a slight tear and I couldn’t help but imagine feminine hands dunking a tea bag into a mug of hot water.

I was thirsty.

When no other sounds were made, I opened my eyes. The lighting was dim and I couldn’t tell if it was night or if all the windows were covered. I blinked, staring up at a tan canvas ceiling. I was in a tent. The good news was this wasn’t a tent any of our enemies would have. The bad news was I had no idea where I was or how I got here.

Preparing myself for a fight, I cleared my throat. It was a deliberate sound, made loud enough to alert whoever was in here that I was no longer out. There was a muffled gasp from a few feet away and then someone was approaching—coming into my line of vision.

Every muscle in my body tightened and readied for a threat.

I did not expect what I saw.

It was a young woman with wide green eyes and high cheekbones. Her skin was flawless, tanned and shiny from the heat. It was easily one hundred and ten degrees in here. Her hair was dark and glossy, pulled into two low pigtails that fell forward over her shoulders as she leaned forward to stare at me.

She gasped audibly and jumped back when she saw me staring. “You’re awake.”

I didn’t answer. I was still judging the environment.

She hesitated, her hands fluttering at her sides before she visibly steeled herself and came closer. “Are you in any pain?”

I turned my head, not focusing on her, but on the rest of the room. It was definitely a tent—a structure made out of canvas, the color made to blend in with the sand. It didn’t have poles like a regular tent; it had a frame made out of either wood or metal, then wrapped in heavy-duty canvas. The tent was then sprayed with some sort of hard plastic on the outside to protect it from the elements and the extreme heat, giving it more of a permanent feel. It was still a piece of crap, but it was an efficient piece of crap.

We were alone.

“Where am I?” I asked; my throat was dry and my voice sounded like I hadn’t used it in