by Bob Nailor
The young woman of the group looked directly up at her, but the warrior knew she was invisible in the dense foliage and shear distance. She bathed in the luscious green eyes of the woman in the distance, imagining how they would be when they were close enough to touch. She eased down to recline on the large branch and pulled the leaves about her body to hide it. Still, the red-eyed watcher kept vigil and watched the group while they approached her tree. They had come into her land. They were her captives. Her prize. Her prey. A soft breeze wafted through the branches, but she kept motionless. Her contingent of guard warriors would not move until she gave them the signal, one she was hesitant to give. She watched.
Chapter Six
THE VISITOR
Ana had trudged through the forest since dawn, her eyes fixed on one massive tree rising above all the others. Now she lingered in its cooling shade and watched the men set up the camp by distributing the equipment. The other four women on the expedition, three students and one native, worked alongside the men. The native woman, Moema, worked to get the kitchen together and start the preparation of the tapir.
Ana decided now was the best time to get some of the notes of the day down while they were still fresh in her mind. The earlier attempt to contact Rossi had failed. Wayne assured her she’d have contact this evening even though he couldn’t explain why the earlier connection link didn’t go through. She grabbed her backpack and retrieved her small ledger. She wanted to use her electronic devices but in a virgin rain forest, items such as electricity were a luxury. Her fingers wrapped around a comforting plastic device and she smiled. A cell phone. Ana was about to yank it out when she heard a branch snap behind her. She froze.
“We’ve brought you a tent unit, Dr. Carvalho,” Nancy said, carrying the package containing her tent.
Ana smiled at the young student and noted Barbara and Megan following behind. “I think I’ll put mine up close to the tree.” She looked around. “I see some of the men are setting things up around this tree so we can sort of be in the middle.” She glanced at the girls to see if they were game to make a female compound or if they had other plans.
“And protected,” Nancy added with a smile. “I was a Girl Scout back home and camped out many times, but this is totally different.” She glanced about. “Definitely not Camp Coonawarra.”
Barbara snickered. “Camp Coonawarra? Really? Is that what they called it in Australia?”
Nancy glanced at Barbara with a dead serious look. “Believe me. That was the name of the camp and one of the best in the country.” Nancy surveyed the area and shook her head. “This is not even close to Camp Coonawarra.”
“Probably not. I remember my brother’s Camp Lakota back in Ohio. Way different than this place.” Barbara stared up at the magnificent tree. “We seem so vulnerable here.” Her voice was a mere whisper.
Barbara pulled the stakes of the specialty tent out of the bag. They allowed a hammock to hang inside the tent to keep the sleeper off the ground. Barbara glanced over at Megan. “You’re from Kent. Are you an Ohioan?”
“Not really,” Megan replied. “I was raised in Indiana, near Indianapolis. Never really went camping, but spent a lot of nights out on the road with my dad during the summer.”
“Why didn’t you stay home with your mother?” Nancy asked.
“Mom died when I was nine and I hated staying with my aunt. It hurt too much.”
“Was she mean?” Barbara asked while struggling to align the poles of the tent.
“No, she was the nicest person, ever. She was my mother’s twin sister. She looked exactly like my mom, and well, I just couldn’t handle it. So I started traveling with dad and helping him.” Megan gazed off into the distance. “Taking pictures, traveling the Midwest. I don’t have many other family ties, so it’s easy.” She sighed heavily and jammed the stake into the ground.
Paulo strode into their midst, his shirt soaked from the work of establishing camp. “Do you need any help?” he asked, leaning down and tightening a rope on Barbara’s tent. “Darkness falls very quickly in the Amazon. Not like you’re used to back home,” he warned. He slid the back of his hand across his forehead and flipped the sweat to the ground. “At least, it’ll be cooler.”
“Cooler?” Barbara asked.
Paulo laughed. “OK. Not as hot,” he corrected with a smile. “In the Amazon, we have two temperatures — hot and hotter.” He stood and sniffed at the air, a smile forming on his sun-wrinkled face. “It seems Moema will have our evening meal ready very soon.” Paulo’s eyes danced at the thought of food and then darkened as he scrutinized the area. “I’ll have them place a night fire over there.” He pointed to an area to their left. “It’ll help to keep the animals at bay. With our central fire and a couple of smaller ones, we should be relatively safe for the night.” He shrugged in an off-hand way, which didn’t assure the others.
Ana unrolled the woven mesh hammock which was to become her bed. She’d never imagined it could be more comfortable than the mattresses they left behind. She slipped the two support cords at either end through the vertical walls of the tent and tied them off between two tree branches. Ana stepped inside the tent and stretched out to check the installation. “All done,” she said.
Finally, Ana looked up through the branches of the big tree and could see the last remnants of light shining down. It was dark, but it was early. The camp was established and she could see Paulo’s men starting to gather near the kitchen. It seemed Moema did indeed have the food ready. At just that moment, Moema waved at them to come for the meal.
As the women approached the kitchen, Paulo’s men moved back and motioned for them to go forward and get their food. Ana glanced about and found the other four male members of the UWF group clustered together with their meals already in hand. She waved at them to get their attention and was quickly motioned to join them. The eight UWF members sat together to eat.
Paulo strolled across the opening to where the UWF members stared at their opened meal packages. Moema had made individual meals wrapped in hot banana leaves. “Tapir meat is good, very similar to pig. The other stuff is composed basically of root vegetables. Eat.”
“In my tribe, the Araras,” Moema said as she strolled up behind Paulo. “We value this animal above all others. It’s what we eat at wedding and coronation celebrations.”
Barbara pulled at the meat, letting the string of meat wobble in the air. “Pig, eh?”
“Eat it,” Ana said authoritatively. “You will need your strength and what Moema has fixed will be just the ticket. Let me at mine. I hope it’s well-done.” She opened the steaming leaves, pulled a small chunk of meat loose, and popped it into her mouth. Her eyes widened at the flavor. “God! It does taste good! And, it’s cooked just to my taste.”
“Dr. Carvalho,” Wayne started. “I am sorry about the communications system crashing during your earlier report. I have reset the station and re-established another link with UWF. Anytime you wish to – holy shit!” he shouted in surprise and fell backward off the log he was sitting on. With his mouth hanging open, he pointed to a location behind Paulo’s back. All eyes snapped in the direction he was pointing.
At the edge of their camp stood a forest warrior, bathed in the late afternoon shadows. She was clad only in a thin leather triangle, ornamented with a radiant yellow sun. A quiver of arrows hung on her back from a slender strap that snaked its way between her breasts. She intently watched Paulo and then turned to the satellite comm station Wayne had set up. Gianni Rossi's voice crackled through the air, calling Dr. Carvalho's name. In a quick and flowing motion, the native drew and launched a gold-tipped arrow.
The monitor with an image of Gianni Rossi shattered and the whole system crashed in a shower of sparks as the arrow continued through into the casing behind the monitor.
“Whoa,” Wayne shouted. “She killed it.”
She strode to the system and yanked her arrow free. Her movements were rapid and powerful, yet graceful. She walked directly to
Paulo and held out her hand with a snap of her wrist. “My arrow,” she said in perfect Portuguese.
“She's white,” Nancy whispered to Ana. “Who is she?”
“Who are you?” Ana asked in Portuguese. “Where do you come from?”
She slowly turned her head to stare at Dr. Carvalho. She gazed at Ana's boots, and then let her eyes trace a slow, lingering path up Ana's body to her slacks, her blouse, and finally, her face. Red eyes of deepest ruby met with the emerald green of Ana's. They lingered in a gaze, and Ana felt her breathing deepen and slow. The forest behind her was silent.
“Dr. Carvalho?” Dr. Hastings called softly to break the moment.
Ana closed her eyes and bowed her head to clear her mind which had begun to spin in slow, sensual circles. A tingle had begun in her breasts, before making its way downward to her belly. Her knees were weak as she breathed in the moist, warm forest air under the gaze of the native’s glowing red eyes. She slumped, buckling at her knees and Aaron Theodouros jumped to assist her. The curve of the native’s hips still burned in Ana's mind even though her eyes were squeezed tightly closed.
The native stood with her weight on one leg, her hand extended toward Paulo. “I desire my arrow,” the tall, stately goddess repeated.
Paulo sheepishly pulled it out of his nearby pack and handed it to her. “Would you like some tapir?” he asked.
She glared at him in disdain then wrinkled her nose in blatant disgust. “No.” She looked at the others in the camp then back to Ana who leaned against the man. “The village you seek is that way.” She pointed into the jungle. “Less than one day.”
“Are you Icamiaba?” Ana asked, standing up and straightening her clothes. She’d picked up a dialect she thought she recognized.
Her eyes relentlessly flashed at Ana, glinting crimson in the firelight reflections. “I go.” She turned to walk toward the forest.
“What is the name of your tribe?” Paulo asked quickly, correcting Ana's question and keeping the native’s attention.
“Icamiaba?” She turned and stood there gazing into the darkness of the jungle beyond the fires. “A name long forgotten.” She smiled, her lips curling ever so slightly to reveal a hint of teeth. “Ask in the village tomorrow.”
The warrior turned, took three steps, sprinted for the big tree, walked around the trunk of the large tree near Ana's tent and disappeared from sight.
“How peculiar,” Ana said. “She was unabashed at her nakedness, and as a native, that would be expected, but how did she know to destroy our communication unit?”
“Her Portuguese was remarkable,” Dr. Hastings added. “It sounded like the old Galician way of speaking before it became so different from Castilian.”
Ana turned to Paulo. “Did you recognize all the words she used?” Paulo was concentrating on his men and listening to them whisper among themselves.
“Paulo?” Ana called.
He jerked his attention back to the foreigners. “I did not know this new tribe had such a white skin coloring and spoke Portuguese,” he said. “You only told me they were a newly found tribe. How is it they know the language? Did you see her red eyes? My men are saying she is the spawn of the devil.” His words spewed together like a machine gun rattling off ammo.
“Grow up, Paulo,” Dr. Hastings chastised. “We are a group of scientists, not some party of backwoods voodoo followers. That woman was nothing more than a jungle native wearing what they have worn, or not worn, for hundreds of years. Control yourself, and your men.”
“Well, she was hot,” Wayne whispered to his buddy, Marshall, and elbowed him. “I certainly wouldn’t kick her out of my tent.”
Dr. Aaron Theodouros gave the young man a quick scowl. “Now you two grow up,” he snapped at Wayne and Marshall. “We must maintain a certain level of professionalism. You are not eleven-year-old kids sneaking peeks at your father’s collection of men’s magazines.” He cocked an eye at them.
“Yes, sir,” both young men said in unison, yet their eyes betrayed what they really thought.
Paulo furrowed his brow at Hastings’ chastisement then casually cocked his head to look at the man. “Have you seen what mulher morcego can do?”
“There is no such thing,” Hastings snapped. “Vampires do not exist!” The Brit shook his head in disgust. “Just a collection of old wives’ tales.”
Paulo glared back, his fists clenched. “You have not seen the bodies. You know not of what you speak. This is the jungle, gringo; it’s not civilization. Here, the unseen and unspoken stalk us in the shadows.”
“But, vampires?” Ana asked. “How can you believe in such things?”
Paulo nodded his head politely. “You do not live here, Dr. Ana, so you cannot possibly know. You are not a fisherman. I was a small boy many years ago when the body floated to my village shore.” All eyes were fixed on him as he sat down on a rotting log. “Pay attention to what I say. The body was totally black and that was not the original skin color. It was as if the life of the man had been completely sucked out of him.”
Ana raised her hand to silence Paulo.
“No, Dr. Carvalho.” Paulo was stern, the casual ‘Dr. Ana’ of before gone. “You cannot quiet me. The men know. I know. One does not take a body out of the river. A body in the great river is consumed by the creatures of the river. None of them touched the body — not even the piranha or mighty alligator.” He nodded his head knowingly. “Even the creatures of the water are wise enough not to touch that which — as you call them — vampires have consumed.”
“And there could be no other explanation?” Dr. Hastings asked. “A dead man floats up to your village and the town gossips spread rumors of mulher morcego.” Hastings removed his glasses and slowly massaged his eyes. “What if he fell out of his canoe, drowned and floated in the river, the sun burning him to a crisp? Could that not be plausible?”
“If you wish,” Paulo said politely. “But an alligator will accept easy prey. And, even then, the body would be burned on only one side. Yes? But, what if the body is completely drained of all blood and blackened from head to foot, both on the back and the front.” Paulo shrugged. “It’s difficult to say he drowned.”
“He’s got you there, professor,” Wayne jibbed. Another quick scowl by Dr. Theodouros silenced the student.
In the distance, a growl indicated the prowling of a jaguar. The monkeys and other wildlife that had been chattering beyond the fires in the darkness of the jungle fell silent. Now, only the buzz of beetles and mosquitoes could be heard.
Ana slapped at one on her arm. “I think the only blood-suckers in this jungle are these damned mosquitoes.”
“There are, indeed, vampires here, Dr. Carvalho,” Paulo said, his voice taking a renewed and defined authority. He pointed at the tangle of trees and vines above them. “We have a bat which we call morcego-vampiro. They are very common and will feed on the blood of any animal, including humans.” He looked about at the group of researchers. “Vampire bats need to feed daily. It’s certain death if they fail to extract blood two nights in a row.” He smiled. “Need I remind you to keep the netting about you while you sleep?”
Ana stood and shook her head in disgust. “I’m making a cup of tea and calling it a night.” She stood up. “Anyone want to join me for a spot of tea?” She looked at the girls, waiting.
“I think I’ll listen to the tales,” Barbara murmured, eyes cast down at the forest floor. “It’s still early.”
Nancy smiled and quietly nodded in agreement.
Ana was not that ignorant nor that much older to realize what was happening. Young students tossed together for months together would quickly pair off. She smiled as she considered the combinations. Marshall and Barbara were a given. Wayne struck her as the type to attempt to hit on both Nancy and Megan. She’d picked up on the bad blood between Barbara and Wayne even before they left Singapore. She shrugged and chuckled, and headed to her tent. This was one thing that wasn’t her problem.
Suddenl
y it struck her: Megan’s was the one face missing from the campfire. She remembered the young girl during the meal and at the fire but couldn’t remember her leaving. Perhaps she turned in early, Ana thought. ‘She probably has already figured out she was the odd girl out. Now if Edson were here… She giggled and then remembered. At least there’s Aaron.
Chapter Seven
AYAHUASCA DREAMS
Ana ambled to the kitchen, her body aching from the long day’s trek. Her mind raced with the heady mixture of responsibilities, warnings, and the minutia of expedition dynamics. She knew the feeling and remembered why she preferred to work alone. I’ll never get to sleep, she thought.
She found Moema preparing provisions for the next day’s journey, drying strips of tapir meat. The mid-aged woman sang softly to herself, her tan round face and dark eyes exuding peace and contentment.
“Do you have any hot water, Moema?”
“Yes, Dr. Carvalho.” She stopped hacking on the hunk of tapir and pointed. She smiled at the doctor. “In the pot on the stone by the fire. I know how you enjoy your evening tea.”
Ana scanned the kitchen for the small tin she knew held her teas. Moema realized Ana had not moved and glanced up at the woman.
“Your tea is over there.” She pointed at the wooden box of shelved items. “Would you like me to get it?” Moema started to stand.
“No, Moema,” Ana said with a nod of acknowledgment and reached over to the box after spotting the tin of teas. “I am quite capable of doing things myself, thank you.” She helped herself to a bag of Earl Gray.
Ana caught a glimpse of a mass of vegetation stuffed in a leather pouch in the box. She pulled it out with a suspicious eye. “What’s this?” she asked, smelling a hint of something aromatic. “Is it vanilla?”