Carpathian 23 - Dark Storm

no humor in his eyes. Maybe understanding.
     “But?” he encouraged.
    “How did you get all those weapons and your equipment into this country? I’ve never
     even seen some of those weapons. You couldn’t possibly have gotten them onto a plane.”
    “We have a few friends in this country with private planes and ships. They had everything
     we asked for waiting for us when we arrived. These plants are as important to them
     as they are to us. The plants have never grown anywhere but the Carpathian Mountains,
     and they’re extinct there. If these are truly the same ones, you have no idea what
     an important find it would be for us.”
    She heard the underlying animation in his voice. He was telling her the truth—or at
     least part of it. There was an urgency about his need to go up the mountain and, God
     help her, she was grateful for it. She wouldn’t have to go alone.
    “I need a gun.”
    Jubal’s eyes met hers. She refused to look away. She needed that weapon and she wasn’t going to back down or be intimidated into backtracking.
     He was not going to get to look at her as a hysterical woman, because she wasn’t hysterical.
     She was absolutely serious.
    Jubal’s eyebrow shot up. “Have you ever fired a gun?”
    “Yes. I’m quite a good shot. My father’s best friend was a police officer, and he
     took me to the shooting range when I was ten and I’ve been shooting ever since.”
    “Shooting a human being isn’t so easy, Riley. If you hesitate . . .”
    “I would have tried to kill Raul with my knife last night,” she said, meaning it.
     “And I wouldn’t have hesitated, not with my mother’s life at stake. I won’t hesitate
     if I need to protect her,” she assured.
    “What if you need to protect yourself?”
    Her chin went up. She refused to look away, holding her gaze steady on his. “I’m not
     a shrinking violet, Jubal. If I need to defend my life, I’ll do it vigorously. And
     no one is going to harm my mother, not if I can help it. Will you lend me a gun?”
    Jubal frowned and pulled a pistol from inside his light jacket. “Tell me what this
     is.”
    She knew he thought she’d lied to him about knowing how to fire a gun. She sent him
     a sweet smile. “You’re holding a Glock 30 SF, 45 auto, a powerful, excellent weapon.
     My godfather gave one to me on my sixteenth birthday. It has a smaller grip, and I
     have small hands so it suits me quite well.”
    Jubal sighed. “Whatever is up there, Riley, this isn’t going to stop it.”
    “It will stop anyone traveling with us from trying to kill my mother.”
    Jubal handed her the Glock. Her hand closed around the grip, taking it slowly. She
     checked the magazine to make certain it was full. He handed her a second magazine,
     which she slipped into her pocket and zipped the flap closed.
    “Riley!”
    Riley spun around to see her mother rushing toward her. Annabel’s face was white,
     her eyes wide with terror. Behind her, the ground had come to life—large, almost dinner-plate-sized
     tarantulas scuttling in the vegetation, coming down from the trees and looking very
     focused as they shuffled relentlessly forward.
    Riley rushed to intercept Annabel before she could flee into the rain forest. “A tarantula
     bite isn’t fatal, Mom. Calm down. Irritation from their hair is sometimes worse than
     the bite.”
    “They’re chasing me,” Annabel gasped, gripping Riley hard. She lowered her voice,
     hissing between her teeth, her eyes wild, hair disheveled. She looked nearly demonic.
     “They’re chasing me, Riley, can’t you see that? They want to kill me.”
    Riley didn’t know what multiple bites from the large tarantulas could actually do,
     nor did she want to take any chances. She caught her mother’s wrist and pulled her
     toward Gary Sanders, who was closest to the small ribbon of a stream. Surely the spiders
     wouldn’t follow them into the water.
    Annabel choked back a sob. “I can’t do this anymore, Riley. You have to go on without
     me. I just can’t . . .”
    “Stop it,” Riley snapped as she pulled her mother over a series of stones and ferns
     to get to the stream. “We can do anything we have to do. You were the one who taught
     me that.”
    She glanced behind her. Jubal, Gary and Ben formed a line of defense against the crawling
     spiders. She stopped her mother’s forward momentum before she could step into the
     stream.
    “Let me take a look, Mom,” she cautioned. Piranha