This may be a bit of a slow burn at first, but it picks up as we go along - I promise. No offense to Edgar R. B., but his story needed an update and a little more sexiness to it. I tried to provide that and give us a modern day Jane, who may be out of her element at first, but knows how to tame a wild man.
Chapter One
Jane leaned back in the crude hammock, the low sun of the late African evening still warming her as she looked up into the bare branches of the meager shade tree. She was back in the country, alone this time aside from a couple fired locals. Her first time back, after her parents had disappeared several years ago on a medical mission to some godforsaken tribe deep in the very jungle. She was about to enter on her own voyage of discovery and adventure. She missed them, but that ache was dulled now by time and her own desire to see the country and escape her pampered city life in America. She flicked a large black fly from her bare thigh, guessing she should probably change from shorts to slacks as the night came and brought with it even more flying pests, or at least add a new round of insect spray. T
The two guides she had hired to take her on this journey had already set up camp and were now sipping from a bottle by a fire near their tent. She couldn't understand their conversation in their native tongue, but they had been helpful on the journey so far, and they could understand a fair amount of English. They had even set up her tent for her, despite her protests that she was fully capable of doing it herself. The sun dipped low, the oppressive heat backed off and the arid land came alive with more sounds of insects and birds in the distance . This was the first night camping alone with them after a long walk that had followed an even longer ride in a dusty truck from the airport. They'd traveled close to the edge of the jungle tonight; ready to enter into areas she'd never been.
While she wasn't exactly thrilled with only a thin strip of canvas tent between her and two relative strangers overnight, she thought she could handle herself if need be. There was the pistol she'd tucked in her backpack; it would be under her pillow tonight.
Tomorrow would send them deeper into the jungle, as far as five miles if the walk was relatively clear, and they could keep a good pace. Within another four to five days, she'd be near where her parents were last reported before dropping into the eternal darkness of deepest Africa. Jane wasn't on a mission to find them per se, as she'd come to terms long ago they had died in the jungle at the hands of wild animals, either the four or two-legged variety. She'd come to get away from what her life had become - an endless series of banquets, parties, and planned weekend events with people so far out of her comfort zone now she felt ill just recalling them.
Her parents had been wealthy, successful doctors who suffered from a terminal case of bleeding hearts and routinely came to the jungle, desert, or any other third world mess of a country to practice their wares. They were good people. Their drives had led them to wonderful places in America and Europe, and to sickness, disease and their own demise elsewhere. Jane was left with the parties and their foundation to run. Dispensing their money, smiling at wealthy pricks and their plasticine wives, and always keeping up appearances were too much. She needed to get out, see the world, and live on her own terms.