Chapter Text
December 21, 1992
Emily was squished against the wall of a bus. Her older brother and father sat next to her, thinking that they’d been kind to let the shortest one have the window seat. They were wrong.
The bus was old, dilapidated, and had no air conditioning. She was cramped, sweaty, and growing more cranky by the minute. She’d already been stuck there for hours, and it didn’t look like relief would come anytime soon.
Across the aisle sat her mother, older sister, and younger brother. They were all smaller, and therefore, had more room. She found herself glaring at them, jealously.
“Dad, how much longer?” She finally asked, leaning across her older brother, Elliot.
“Are you seriously complaining right now?” Her father responded, annoyed and incredulous. “This is a once-in-a-life-time opportunity to see the Amazon, and you want to know when it’s gonna end?. Unbelievable!”
“Sorry, Dad, but I don’t know how much more of this I can take! It’s boiling, and you two are squishing me into a pancake!” She returned, defensively.
Her father's brow furrowed, unimpressed, “You can deal with it. Look out the window. You’re missing the beauty of the Amazon.”
Emily groaned and looked back out the window. She had to admit, it was beautiful. Her parents had decided to book this trip to Brazil for their family to make sure they had one more family vacation together before Elliot, the oldest, graduated high school. Her dad was the one who chose Brazil. He’d always dreamed of adventuring through the Amazon.
Emily was partial to the animals, but the heat and humidity were oppressive. Her short, brown hair was drenched in sweat, and so was the collar of her shirt. She opened her water bottle and poured some of it over her head, careful to save enough to drink.
Elliot squirmed and glared at her as some of the water ran onto his leg. Emily didn’t care. She tousled the water through her hair, making her hair appear wet and wavy, like a short-haired mermaid.
Emily was a cute 12 year-old. She was short and slim, had round, brown eyes and hair that matched. Her little, round nose and small frame made her look like a pixie. Boys at school called her Tinker Bell, which was equal parts annoying and flattering. She knew they weren’t making fun of her - it was more of a flirting-tease than anything.
“Honey, seriously. Where are we? I thought this tour was only supposed to last an hour and a half, two max. It’s going on three.” Her mother said, exasperated.
Charlie, her father, had been the one to select this particular adventure. It had promised a unique tour of the deep Amazon, unlike any other tourist destinations. It was affordable, and Charlie wanted an adventure, so he booked it.
He had to admit that he’d been less than impressed when they saw that the tour bus was some old jalopy. They boasted ample sitting room in an air conditioned paradise, but what they got were hot, plastic seats, a loud fan that sputtered and died every five minutes, and no leg room.
The bus was small, so it could only accommodate ten passengers max. Their family took up six of those spots. There was a Korean couple on their honeymoon, and an older couple joined them as well. It was a full load.
As Emily continued to look out the window, she noticed there was a person standing at the edge of the road ahead. She couldn’t make out anything else until they approached. The bus started to slow.
“Where are we? Why are we stopping? Is it an animal? Some kind of landmark we should see?” Her father asked, talking to himself.
They were literally in the middle of the jungle. Why would the bus stop here?
Emily’s eyes widened as the roadside stranger approached. It was just a kid, no more than a few years older than Emily. He was holding an automatic rifle.
Carlos was fifteen years old, but in Brazil, he was already a man. He had been for a long time. He’d seen death and violence. He knew how to fight and survive. He was a soldier.
Today, his orders were to watch this road and take anyone who came down it hostage. The tour bus approaching was an easy target. He stood at the side of the road, rifle in hand, relaxed. The bus slowed, and he walked out into the center of the road. His partner, a year younger than him, walked out from the jungle and waited at the side.
The bus stopped. Emily’s parents had yet to see the danger. They didn’t know that there were two armed men in the road.
Carlos nodded to his partner who boarded the bus. The older lady screamed. Her father's face turned paper-white.
“Dad?” Elliot whispered, pulling on his sleeve. “What do we do?”
He exchanged glances with his wife, who was terrified. She put a protective arm in front of Eric, the youngest.
“Just sit still and be quiet.” Their father answered. “Just do what they tell you, and we’ll be okay.”
Emily’s heart was beating so hard that she thought the young man on the bus would see it thumping through her shirt.
He walked down the aisle, rifle aimed down, but ready. He looked at each passenger, checked their hands, and then turned around and shouted something to Carlos in Portuguese. While his partner checked the passengers, Carlos walked around the perimeter of the vehicle, checking the faces. He wanted to know who they were dealing with. It was easy to get a bead on how hard things might get just by looking at expressions.
Emily watched breathlessly through the window as he circled. He was handsome. If she’d seen him in any other situation, she’d have an instant crush. As it was, he was terrifying. His black hair complemented his deep, tanned, brown skin and dark brown eyes. He had thick, shaggy hair and strong eyebrows, a broad nose, and narrowed chin. He was built like an athlete, which was very apparent under his thin, brown t-shirt and cargo pants. Unlike the passengers on the bus, he wasn’t sweating. His body was obviously used to the jungle heat.
His confident, relaxed brown eyes marked the passengers through the window, like he was ticking items off a grocery store list. One by one, his eyes made their way to Emily, and he stopped.
Emily had been staring at him, but now, she looked away, worriedly. Why had he stopped? Had she done something wrong? Should she not have looked at him?
She clung to Elliot’s arm. Usually, he would’ve been annoyed and shaken her off, but not in this situation.
She looked back at Carlos. His eyes were narrowed, like he was surprised to see someone like her. He was still looking at her… smiling. Emily turned red. Why was he smiling at her? It was more of a half-smile than anything - cocky, confident, charismatic. In her current predicament, it was equal parts terrifying and intriguing.
She was right to think that he was surprised. Usually, the tours that wandered out this far were full of solo backpackers, hippies, and couples old and young. There were rarely families, and it was even more rare that there would be a beautiful girl near his age. She had brown hair, and round, brown eyes. They were a lighter shade than many Brazilian girls; they were almost amber-colored. Her short hair was wet and wavy.
He snapped out of it and finished his round. Then, he switched positions with his partner and entered the bus.
Emily’s heart raced faster. She was frozen with fear, but also… she got a closer look at the young guerilla. He was even more handsome up close, if possible. Tall, dark, handsome, and exotic. She’d never be able to describe him to her friends at home without sounding like she’d made him up. If she survived, that is.
He walked down the aisle more briskly than his partner. Emily could hardly breathe when he stopped at her row. He reached his hand out, across her father and brother, and offered her a flower.
It wasn’t like anything she’d ever seen. It was massive and had pastel purple petals surrounding vibrant, dark purple corona of delicate hair-like structures. The central structures, stamen and stigma, were bright green, almost fluorescent. He had picked it as he walked on the opposite side of the bus, so she hadn’t seen.
He locked eyes with a shocked and startled Emily.
“For you.” He said, in heavily accented English.
She timidly reached out her shaking hand and took it, her fingers brushing against his for a split second.
“Obrigado.” She whispered, uncertainly, unable to take her eyes off his.
He half-smiled again and nodded. Then, he moved back to the front of the bus and said something to the driver in Portuguese. He pointed to the road, something more, and then got off the bus.
The driver, who also looked scared and uncertain, slowly started up the bus again. Without another word or explanation, they were off again.
Pedro shook his head at Carlos. “I’m not going down for this. They’re gonna kick your *ss for letting that bus go. Those ransoms could’ve gotten us a fortune! You’re losing it.” He said, walking away.
Carlos half-grinned. He knew he’d catch h*ll for what he’d done, but he didn’t regret it. Sometimes, you had to be willing to take a beating to save a beautiful girl.
Two hours later, the tour bus returned to the city. Everyone got off. Her father gave the tour guide an earful, about how he endangered his whole family, how he should’ve known there were kidnappers in the mountains, etc. He threatened to get the American consulate involved, which was an empty threat. They wouldn't care about an almost-kidnapping.
As the older couple exited, the wife clapped a hand on Emily’s shoulder, and said to her mother, “I think your little girl saved our lives.”
Back at their room, Elliot and Liz, her older siblings, teased Emily to no end.
“Oh, Emily! You’re so beautiful! I want to give you a flower and take you into the jungle with me to be my wife!” Elliot said, making a kissy face at Emily.
Emily threw her pillow at him.
“Your gross, stinky sweat is intoxicating! Here’s a flower to cover your old bus-sweat-stink!” Liz added.
Emily growled and left the room. Her mother and father were in the living room. Eric was still pretty worked up, so they were talking through it with him.
She waited at the doorway, not wanting to add to their emotional burden. Then, she wandered out to the balcony, thinking about the flower she’d been given.
She didn’t even know his name, and she’d never see him again. She made sure no one had seen, but the flower was safely tucked away in her suitcase, pressed between two books. She couldn’t help but wonder who he was and how he ended up in the middle of the jungle, handling an assault rifle at such a young age. She knew she'd never know.