by Bob Nailor
“I guess I wasn’t clear enough last night, Paulo” Edson said in response. “If you value your license, you will not lead this group into known danger. The last two expeditions have disappeared without a trace. And one of them was yours, I believe.”
“What are you going to do, Lieutenant?” Paulo retorted, his face turning red with anger. “Shoot me? The forest is open for everyone, not just to cops with guns.”
“Get this equipment back on your floating disaster,” Edson snapped. “Or my men are prepared to do it for you.”
The testosterone was so thick Ana could smell it. She joined the fracas like a playground monitor dealing with two bullies. “Lieutenant Macedo,” she said, calmly. “Paulo is in my hire. I’m the person responsible for the safety of this group—not you, not him. Plus, I intend to carry out this mission with, or without your approval. May I see your court order, please?” Her question caused Edson’s eyes to flash her way.
“I don’t need a court order to keep my river safe,” he retorted, his tone turned down a notch.
“But, you’ll need one to keep me away from that tribe,” Ana replied. “The last time I checked, Brazil still believed in the rule of law.” Edson stared at Ana, the aggression draining from the muscles of his chest and arms. “Of course, you and your men are welcome to join us on the expedition, if you are so inclined.”
Ana pulled an envelope from her backpack and handed it to him. “Oh, yes. And then there’s this.” Edson’s face fell when he saw the wax seal. “Go ahead. Open it,” she said. He carefully pried it loose with his combat knife and read with a frown. He took a deep breath before he glowered back at Ana.
“Perhaps you could read it for us all,” she said in an air of triumph.
“It’s with great pleasure that, at the behest of the Holy Father, I offer the full resources of the Federal Republic of Brazil to the United World Federation in its efforts to contact and assist the indigenous tribes recently discovered in the region of Boca do Acre. Please do everything within your power to provide safe conduct and logistical support to Dr. Ana Pavlović Carvalho and her group.
“With my heartfelt gratitude,
“Luis Antônio Neves, President of Brazil”
Edson muttered “Merde” under his breath and handed the letter back to Ana. She let it pass while Paulo smirked.
Ana grabbed the sulking cop by the elbow. “Edson, let’s take a walk while Paulo finishes his preparations.” They walked a few yards in silence until they were out of the earshot of the rest of the group.
“Edson,” Ana began, “I appreciate your concern, but knights on white horses went out of style with conquistadores. My group is incredibly well trained and prepared for this mission. We don’t need your protection to contact a new tribe. This will be my seventh similar expedition in the past five years.”
Edson draped the rifle over his broad back and walked stiffly as she spoke. “And I’ve pulled seven dozen corpses from this river in the same five years, Ana,” he replied. “I’m not saying this just to scare you or inflate my importance. Every tribe in the region has its legends about these people. I’m sure Paulo has told you a few of them. They are not new and unknown, except to foreigners and fools. They are as old as the Amazon itself. I have no desire to find your body drained of its life and thrown to one side on a forest trail.”
As he spoke, Edson’s bicep brushed against Ana’s shoulder. A jolt of electricity shot through her, from her head to her toes. She suddenly realized she would have felt much more confident in her proclamations if that muscled arm had been around her waist. She turned quickly to head back to the others.
“You’ll see,” she said, half to herself. “In a few weeks we’ll be sitting at that little bar again, drinking another beer with your friend, the priest, except this time I’ll have a couple of new indigenous friends along to drink with us. And, not one will be a mulher morcego. But, first, I need you to stop frightening my people. I don’t need a passel of little old ladies jumping at every sound in the night.”
“Better to jump in the night than lay dead in the day,” Edson answered, still granite-faced and serious.
Ana smacked him on the arm, just where the sleeve of his t-shirt curled above his bicep. “Come on, Lieutenant, lighten up. Everything will work out just fine. You’ll see.” She flexed her fist after the punch and wondered if she could really talk him into going along.
“I don’t care how many letters from the president you have,” Edson said, straight-faced. “If you strike a federal officer, you go to jail.” Ana stared back, surprised at the response. “Just kidding, Dr. Ana.” He smiled for the first time since he’d arrived.
They arrived back at the dock just as Paulo hauled the last bundles off the Vera Cruz. He’d tied the aging boat off to the dock in a half-dozen places and stationed his oldest man on the main deck with several weeks of rations and a small gas stove.
“Keep an eye on João for me, will you?” Paulo called as Edson and his crew cast off.
“We’ll stop by every couple of days,” Edson replied. “You keep an eye on Dr. Know-It-All.”
“She’s got a mind of her own,” Paulo answered with a wink. “But, I’ll do my best.”
“Your best may not be good enough, my friend.” Edson rumbled the cruiser back toward the middle of the river.
Ana fell in with her group as they threw packs on their backs and prepared to follow Paulo’s men, who already slashed at the underbrush of the forest trail. For the first time since Singapore, she realized people older and more experienced than she hadn’t stopped warning her about the danger. The thought sobered her but she tried not to let it show on her face.
“Hey, doc,” Wayne called to her. “You’re pretty good with men with guns.”
“Maybe it’s not any man,” Aaron said with a wary glance in her direction. “Maybe it’s just this one.”
“Well, he wouldn’t need a gun to cuff me,” Nancy joked, pressing her wrists together. “Or rope me, or slap me in chains.”
Ana’s face remained distant and serious. “He’s right,” she replied. “This mission is not like any other I’ve taken on. We’ll need you to keep close contact with the Operations Center from here on out.”
“Singapore is halfway around the world,” Dr. Hastings replied in the same somber tone. “Here on the ground, we take care of ourselves.”
Ana’s arms bristled with goosebumps, even though the heat sweltered around them. As Edson’s boat roared away in the distance, she couldn’t shake the feeling danger was closer at hand than she imagined.
High in the canopy, two glowing red eyes blinked slowly through the thick foliage. They remained fixed on the tall white woman who led the invaders below. Soon those eyes were joined by another pair; then another. There was no need for words or even signs between them. They silently slipped from tree to tree, causing a profound stillness to fall on the forest. One of the group’s slashers opening a path with his razor-sharp machete noticed the new-found silence and crossed himself. Another mumbled an Ave Maria under his breath. The foreigners stopped talking between themselves, plodding silently along the path. They weren’t the first to tread where they didn’t belong. Perhaps they would be the last.
Chapter Five
THE HIKE
Ana kept pace with Paulo as he and his men hacked a path through the thick underbrush for the group. She watched for any sign of the unknown tribe. She secretly hoped in the long shot, this newly found tribe would be the legendary Icamiabas or the lost Amazons of ancient fame. Ana shrugged. It was much more likely the South American Amazons were nothing more than mythical figures in the same category as mulher morcego. Brazil was not without its own fantastic monsters such as the mapinguari, a Yeti type creature, and the lobisomem, the werewolf. There are even unusual ones like mula sem cabeça, a woman cursed for having sex with a priest, and saci pereré, the one-legged rascal who smokes a corncob pipe and runs horses into a dripping sweat. Ana smiled. The golden days of El Dora
do, the City of Z, and other such legends of the conquistadors had long since passed. Still, the jungle held its mystique, but now obscene deforestation was sending that charisma into the mists of oblivion.
The possibility of a previously unknown ancient civilization was now a geological fact with the discovery of the geoglyphs. The infamous city of gold, El Dorado, was not. The tantalizing native stories had drawn shiploads of explorers to the New World, but never once was there produced a single nugget. And yet, Ana had seen it, the picture of the tower with the golden roof.
Ana could feel the eyes watching. She knew the natives had to be close, but nothing physical betrayed their presence. No rustling leaves. No pause in the overall symphony of forest life. Yet, an irresistible energy called her to lay bare the secrets of the forest. Ahead, an ancient leafy serengueija tree summoned her stare with an unexplainable power. Its colossal system of a half-dozen trunks and gigantic branches rose into the canopy and exuded a dark, primal power. But, when she peered into its shadows, a shiver passed through her from head to foot. She felt stripped, naked, her very soul open to the invading eyes.
“Do you feel the stares, Paulo?” Ana finally asked, breaking the silence.
“Yes, Dr. Ana,” Paulo replied. “They have been watching us for the last twenty minutes.” He slashed at twisting vines entwining the serengueija trunks and branches. “They must be in the trees but do not stare up at them.”
A few minutes later they burst into a clearing slashed into the forest by the pirate cattlemen. Ana casually covered her brow with her hand to protect her vision from the assault of the punishing tropical sun. A ring of trees circled the open area which was now covered in new-growth brush and charred stumps. She felt the nauseating tug at her gut in the face of the obscene attack on the heart of Nature. Instantly, she felt the pull of hidden eyes, this time from the soaring trees in the canopy on the far side of the clearing. That a human could ascend to such heights seemed impossible, yet Ana was sure someone watched and waited. The nausea was quickly replaced by the butterflies of a primordial attraction deep in her gut.
Suddenly, the brush to the left burst into life as something rustled quickly in their direction. The snorting and ensuing sounds indicated the possibility of a largish animal. It was daylight and panthers were generally nocturnal hunters. This animal approached in a rush.
Paulo dashed in between the unseen creature and Dr. Ana. He held the machete up for the attack. There was a loud squeal and the animal’s charge suddenly stopped. Paulo waited. The grasses were silent. He cautiously moved and chopped at the grasses toward the last known location of the animal. He found it. Ana followed very close behind. She gasped at the sight. A very large tapir lay in the grass, dead, with a single, long arrow protruding from its chest. At that moment, the realities of her expedition and group responsibilities hit her. She felt dizzy.
The river trip from Manaus had been uneventful with no storms; only idyllic moments with pink river dolphins and an occasional pirarucu. She had seen the alligators, carybaras, and even a lone anaconda, but all those creatures had been at a safe distance.
Suddenly, Ana was reminded of Fordlândia, or the remains of Henry Ford’s South American folly — a solitary, rusting, and dilapidating water tower. The pilot had buzzed the structure as dawn broke, a lesson that was not lost on her team. The expedition background portfolio had included a short history of Henry Ford’s disastrous attempt at a rubber tree plantation. This was a jungle, not some overgrown Central Park type environment, or zoo. Until this very moment, she had never been worried about the expedition. She now realized it was here where life and death, true survival of the fittest, was a reality. Alone, she knew what to do, but now she had companions, a team, and she was responsible. Rossi’s conversation flashed through her memory. The impact of the baby capybara’s death struck home and she gazed at the students of her group still lingering with the others. Could I be that callous if one of them were to die?
Paulo stared momentarily, made the sign of the cross then very cautiously turned his downcast head to casually glance at the trees in the distance, calculating where the arrow had come. He saw nothing but figured the native had to be in that big tree. He again stared down at the tapir.
“We are lucky,” he said. “Tapirs are vegetarian. They don’t normally attack humans. And they seldom feed during the day. Something spooked this one.” He knelt and patted the animal. “Tonight, we eat well.”
He yanked the arrow out, noted the golden arrowhead covered with blood, and then shoved it tip-first into his rear pocket. Paulo motioned to another of his men. They quickly gutted and carved the animal for travel.
“We’ll continue into the forest for protection from the sun, set up camp, and enjoy the gift given to us.” He stood, removed his cap, and shouted to the hidden, distant listeners, turning while doing so.
“What did you say?” Ana asked as Paulo put his cap back on. “Who were you talking to?”
“I thanked our provider and offered to share with them. I used four of the dialects I think might be spoken here.” He smiled. “Simple words, Dr. Ana. I told them ‘thank you’ and ‘come share’ — nothing fancy.”
Ana glanced nervously, yet excitedly, about them. “Do you think they will?” The possibility of encountering a native before the village made her heart pound wildly.
“Join us for an evening meal? Very unlikely,” Paulo replied and removed the arrow from his hip pocket. “It’s very tricky. If we leave the tapir, we are wasting or refusing a gift.” He shook his head. “Not good. But, if we take the animal and they wanted it...” He hesitated. “Trust me, with their jungle knowledge and stealth, they could come into camp and take it right from under our noses if they wanted to.” He snapped the arrow’s shaft across his palm then stuck it, arrowhead first, into his pack. “The accuracy of the arrow shows they could have killed us any time they wished. We are being observed and allowed passage.” Paulo smiled at her, turned, and started to once again clear a path toward the tree where they originally had been headed.
“Do you actually think they would kill us?” Ana asked, noticing even in the tall brush they stood above grasses.
“If that were so, Dr. Ana, we’d be dead right now.” Paulo hacked and chopped at brush and vines beneath the broad rain forest canopy. His words came in huffs. “Offhand, I’d say whoever shot the tapir is protecting us, making sure we survive.”
The students were split into two groups. The girls huddled together on foot, shuddering from the tapir incident. The boys lounged on an old pile of broken limb wood, chatting about the possibility of the new tribe living au naturel.
Paulo’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t move,” he snapped, moving in the direction of the two young men. From beneath the mess crawled a spider twice the size of the earlier tarantula.
It reared up on its two back legs as Wayne reached in its direction. “Hey, I’ll take this one home as a pet,” he said.
Paulo flung his straw hat, Frisbee-style, and caught the creature just as it jumped toward the student. “I said don’t move, idiot.” He ran over and clamped his hand on top of the hat. “Bring me a specimen jar,” he ordered. Slowly, he eased the spider into the plastic container.
“What’s your problem, man?” Wayne whined. “You said they were harmless.”
Paulo held up the creature for all to see. “Does this look like the other one, genius?”
The sarcasm wasn’t lost on the group. There was little similarity. The second spider appeared to wear armor instead of a hairy sweater.
“This is an armadeira. You call it a Brazilian Wandering Spider. He pointed to a burrow underneath a cluster of small broken branches near Wayne’s boots. “You stepped on its home. This is the deadliest spider in the world. One of the biggest I’ve ever seen. Without anti-venom…” Paulo momentarily gazed into the distance as he calculated. “You would have been dead by tomorrow afternoon. Maybe earlier.”
The spider crawled up the sides of the jar, loo
king out at them looking in. It was clear who was more frightened.
“Let it out,” Wayne said and grabbed a rock. “I’ll smash it.”
“Americans,” Paulo said and shook his head. “Everyone, head up the path.” They walked as a group a few yards further toward the forest as Paulo released the creature. It jumped to the ground, reared on two legs, and scanned for threats. Finding none, the armadeira walked back to its home and disappeared into the earth.
Paulo collected the group, eyes narrowed and serious. “You are the strangers here,” he chastised. “You stepped on its home. You will be squashed by the rain forest if you do not respect her.” He looked directly at Ana. “When you go places you don’t belong, you have no right to expect to return breathing.”
Ana sulked in silence and watched a very small snake slither off into the grasses. She’d learned on the trip up the Amazon from Manaus to the Juruá River, it didn’t matter to Paulo how long the trip would take. Even though she was like a small child on a trip with the “Are we there yet?” mentality; Paulo was relaxed and casual. His philosophy was to arrive when they got to the destination. The end location of the trip was somewhere between the Rio Branco and the Juruá. When planning this expedition, her first instinct was to take the Purus River, but after closer examination of its extreme serpentine path, she’d decided the longer trip up the Amazon to Juruá would be faster. Time was running out, the rainy season was close upon them and that would mean even more snakes moving about. Ana fanned herself, swiped her bandana across her dripping forehead, and again gazed at the large tree, their destination for the day.
High in the forest canopy, glowing red eyes tracked every movement of the strange woman who was in charge, even though she was surrounded by young, virile men. The pale white forest warrior stood tall on the tree’s branch, her long, dark hair, wrapped around her head like a coiled cobra. In one hand she grasped a longbow nearly as tall as she. The other hand pressed against the bark of the tree. She slowly cocked her head in thought while the plan formed.