Disentangling himself from a splash of spiky brush, he scrambled to his feet. Taking a deep breath, he tugged off his borrowed trousers, wadded them up and lobbed them off into the thick surrounding darkness. Actually, although he’d informed their captors otherwise, he was wearing his own clothes under the appropriated uniform. Crouching low, he moved carefully to the left along the now level ground. He glanced up behind him. Far off on the night trail the bunch that had Jake was moving on and away. The beams of the literods were pointing along the trail and not down into the dark ravine. There was no sign of pursuit. “Those pendejos must feel confident they can collect me at their leisure,” Gomez said to himself as he continued making his way through the tangle of foliage at the gorge bottom. “Still, it was worth making a try at escaping. And possibly the fabled Gomez cunning will help me elude them.” He had a rough idea of the layout of the island and he knew the city of Horta ought to be only a few miles from here.
