Chapter 273

The gunshot sent the indigenous tribe into chaos.

They scrambled to their feet, gripping their wooden clubs with trembling hands. Their eyes darted around wildly, searching for the source of the danger.

Evelyn Sinclair and Adrian Blackwood exchanged a tense glance.

Adrian’s expression was grim, his body coiled tight with readiness. He pressed a finger to his lips, signaling silence.

Then came the sound—footsteps.

Dozens of them, crashing through the underbrush.

The tribesmen shouted in their guttural language, their voices sharp with warning.

The pirates’ furious curses cut through the air, followed by the unmistakable click of guns being reloaded.

Tension thickened like fog.

The pirates weren’t afraid—not with their weapons.

But the natives outnumbered them. Bullets were limited.

And worst of all—they had been tricked.

"Where the hell is that explorer?!" one pirate snarled. "We followed the signal here—nothing but these damn savages!"

"Waste of bullets," another spat. "But if we find him…"

Evelyn’s blood ran cold.

Her pulse hammered in her throat, so loud she feared they would hear it.

Then—gunfire.

The pirates fired wildly, bullets tearing through the jungle.

A tribesman cried out, clutching his leg as he fell.

The others scattered, their primitive weapons useless against the guns.

The pirates tore through the camp, kicking over tents, overturning baskets.

One of them grabbed a tribeswoman by the hair—

A war cry erupted from the trees.

The natives surged forward, their fear turning to fury.

The pirates cursed, stumbling back as spears and clubs swung at them.

Evelyn exhaled sharply.

"Don’t kill them!" a pirate shouted. "Too many—we’ll be overrun!"

The tide turned in seconds.

The tribesmen who had fled now returned, armed and enraged.

The pirates hesitated—then bolted.

Gunshots echoed as they fired behind them, wounding a few pursuers before vanishing into the jungle.

Evelyn sagged against a tree, her legs weak with relief.

Adrian’s shoulders relaxed slightly, but his gaze remained sharp.

"We take another route," he murmured. "Avoid them entirely."

Evelyn nodded.

They turned to leave—

A deep, mechanical roar split the sky.

Not one helicopter.

Several.

Leo, the AI tiger, poked his head from Evelyn’s pocket.

"Someone hacked my tracker," he said urgently. "They’re using satellite signals to find us."

His voice dropped.

"Mama… it’s either Emily Whitaker—or Donovan Sterling."