Pray for Darkness: Terror in the Green Inferno

by James Michael Rice

  “It’s called sepia,” Auggie said helpfully.

  It was a moment frozen in time: three healthy young men in the prime of their lives, each smiling in varying degrees, but smiling in that careless, easy way limited only to the young and the young at heart. In the background: the unknown world. A rippling sea of green that went on and on into oblivion—a mere suggestion of the mind-boggling 1.7 billion acres of tropical rainforest that stretched far beyond the horizon.

  Five

  Night fell like the guillotine.

  It was nearing full dark by the time the three Americans and their Peruvian guide emerged from the trees, briny with sweat but still in high spirits. Yellow twinkling lights appeared in the darkness. Stepping out of the encroachments of the jungle, the illuminated lodge represented a familiar world, one of straight lines and geometric angles not found in nature; a manmade world the three boys associated with comfort, convenience, and safety.

  The pulsating sounds of the jungle diminished as they crossed the yard, their headlamp beams pooling on the ground ahead of them. Now they could hear the steady thrum of a diesel generator, the clink of silverware, and the chatter of conversation punctuated by the occasional peal of laughter. By the time they reached the entrance, the boys could see the other guests milling about the bar and lounge areas while several Peruvians in matching collared shirts were busy setting tables.

  Ernesto guided them back to the boot rack, which was now illuminated by two tiki torches.

  “Do we eat soon?” asked Cooper.

  “Mmm. In little while will be dinner.” With his accent, it sounded like deener.

  Ben looked at his wristwatch. “Okay. Do we have time to shower and change?”

  “Yes. About half-hour. When the dinner bell rings, is very busy. Is better to get there early.”

  Ben pulled off a boot and put it on the rack. “Will we see you there?”

  Ernesto nodded. “Yes. I will meet you at the table, uh-huh.”

  Auggie was slipping on his hiking shoes. “Man, I can’t wait to take a shower.”

  Ben shrugged off his backpack, rotating his shoulders to work out the knots. “That was awesome, Ernesto. It’s probably the coolest thing I’ve ever done.”

  “Yes?”

  “Yes,” replied Cooper. “I can’t believe how many cool things we’ve seen already.”

  A smile curled the corners of Ernesto’s small mouth. “We will see many more anee-mals. Much more of the anee-mals in the jungle, mmm-hmm.”

  Ben’s face glowed with healthy color in the torchlight. “I can’t wait to see what’s next!”

  Ernesto giggled; the sort of high, girlish tee-hee often associated with young children. There was a round of friendly, unregulated laughter as the three turistas joined in with their guide.

  The interior of the lodge bustled with movement as the cooks prepared a buffet table and the guests flocked around the bar. A smaller crowd was gathered in the designated smoking area in the corner of the lounge while several others rocked lazily in the nearby hammocks. Glasses clinked; accented voices mingled with laughter around the bar; others drifted out from the bamboo kitchen, which also sat on stilts and was connected to the dining hall by a short walkway. A teenage girl slouched in an armchair, her freckled face illuminated by the laptop computer that rested on her knees.

  Ben felt a stab of disappointment. Since leaving the ramshackle dock back in Puerto Malaka, he’d begun to think of them, all three, as great explorers on the fringes of some undiscovered territory, but the grand illusion was now shattered. It could not survive the presence of teenagers in their trendy clothing; the availability of creature comforts and modern technological wonders did not conform to the image of great explorers using little else but their skill and wit to survive the perils of a savage land.

  As they cut through the lodge, they paused a moment to quench their thirst at the water tank.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever drank so much water in my life,” Auggie said, panting.

  “Me either,” said Cooper. “I can’t believe it’s still this hot out. It’s what—” He glanced at Ben’s wristwatch. “Practically seven?”

  Ben held up his arm. “Quarter past.” He shrugged. “We’ll probably get used to it soon enough.” He led the way in his confident stride, backpack draped across one shoulder, admiring a few pretty faces that hovered round the bar.

  Cooper was glancing about as though expecting to find someone he knew. His gray eyes finally stopped on a trio of girls, all of them blonde, sitting at the corner of the bar. They were laughing, taking pictures of each other while sipping brightly colored drinks from margarita glasses.

  “How you doin’, ladies?” Cooper drawled.

  The girls stopped what they were doing and smiled amiably.

  Stealing a few backward glances, the three boys continued through the lodge and onto the walkway. With only two small lanterns stationed at the halfway point, the walkway was much darker than the interior of the lodge. Apparently, the generator’s power was limited to only the common areas.

  “Holy shit,” Auggie said when they were a good distance away. “They were hot!”

  Ben grinned at them both. “We’re coming back here after dinner. We’re going to get smashed, and we’re going to find those three blondes.”

  Cooper chuckled. “Sounds like a plan.”

  They were nearing a remote part of the guest area, and it was now so dark that Auggie and Cooper were forced to turn on their headlamps. They scanned the room numbers, counting them off as they had done on their arrival. By now they were far enough away that they could no longer see the lights or hear the sounds of the main lodge. The nearby rooms were silent, apparently vacant, their occupants having gravitated toward the dining hall in anticipation of the dinner bell.

  “It’s so different at night,” murmured Cooper.

  “Spooky, isn’t it?” asked Auggie. Spookier was closer to the truth, though there was little need to elaborate. Ben and Cooper were already nodding in perfect understanding; yes, the jungle was spookier at night. They arrived at Room 10, now dimly lit by a single kerosene lantern that rested in a small alcove above the table. Dancing behind the lamp’s glass chimney, a tiny flame threw shadows that made the room appear to rock to and fro, like a ship at sea.

  Ben tossed his backpack onto his bed. “I don’t know about you guys,” he said, “but I’m friggin’ starving. Let’s get our stuff so we can shower and get back to the dining hall.”

  Auggie shrugged. “Sounds good to me.”

  Cooper shook his head. “What a day, huh?”

  The shadows accentuated Ben’s dimples. “I’d say we’re off to a damn good start.”

  In the sickly light, the three boys looked at one another and grinned.

  “Okay, let’s go,” Cooper said. “I’m starving and I don’t want to be late for dinner.”

  ***

  The dining hall was a chaotic affair, full of colorfully dressed tourists and the buzz of conversation. The boys scanned the crowd and found Ernesto waiting for them, as promised. He was sitting alone at an empty table, taking tiny sips from a glass of mango juice and watching the tourists go loudly about their business. Ben noticed that Ernesto was still wearing the same outfit, which was remarkably clean in spite of their afternoon hike. He wondered how it was that Ernesto never seemed to perspire, or become winded, or show the slightest discomfort in the humidity. Upon seeing the glowing complexions of the three freshly-scrubbed turistas, Ernesto lifted a hand and waved them over.

  “You should eat,” he said, gesturing toward the line that was forming to one side of the buffet table.

  “What about you?” Ben asked. “Did you already eat?”

  Ernesto shook his head mournfully and sat down. “No tonight. Tonight is the lasagna.”

  “You don’t like lasagna?”

  Ernesto made a sour face. “Mmm. I don’t like-it the lasagna.”

  “Okay, we’ll be back in a minute.”

>   “How can anybody not like lasagna?” Auggie asked as they joined the line. His eyebrows were knit in consternation; the very notion seemed to baffle him. Lasagna was delicious; didn’t everyone love lasagna?

  Ben shrugged. Cooper was busy examining the buffet table and did not even hear the question.

  The boys picked up their trays and plates and moved along the buffet table, scooping up hefty portions of the maligned lasagna. Soon they arrived at a container full of a lumpy, yellowish food.

  “What’s that stuff?” asked Cooper.

  One of the waiters happened to be standing nearby. He leaned forward and spoke in rapid-fire Spanish. “Papa a la Huancaína.”

  Cooper blinked in surprise. “Papa a la, what?”

  The man smiled and spoke again in perfect English, “Potatoes with sauce.”

  Cooper nodded gratefully and scooped a healthy portion onto his plate.

  Behind him, Auggie and Ben looked at one another in amusement.

  Cooper looked back at them, grinning. “What?”

  “Nothing,” Ben said, shaking his head a little. “Just keep going, man. You’re doing great.”

  A few minutes later, they returned to the place where Ernesto was sitting, their plates laden with a variety of entrees and side dishes. The humidity and exertion of the hike had left the boys famished. They were silent for a few moments as they sampled their chosen dishes.

  Ben looked over and saw Cooper taking delicate sips from a coffee cup. Ben gestured with his chin. “What are you drinking?”

  Cooper swished the liquid around inside his mouth for a second or two before he finally swallowed it. Smacking his lips with a satisfied Ahhhhh, he looked at Ben, grinning. “Coca tea,” he said cheerfully.

  Ben snorted. “You love that stuff.”

  “Hell, yeah,” said Cooper. “It’s the balls.”

  “Is very good,” chimed in Ernesto. “Is good for the—” He moved his hand in a circular motion around his midsection as he sought for the proper words.

  “Good for your stomach,” Auggie said helpfully. “For altitude sickness.”

  Ernesto nodded. “Mmm, yes. You have this drink before?”

  Cooper was too busy chowing down, so Ben answered for him. “Yes, back in Cusco.”

  “Mmm,” said Ernesto. “You stay in Cusco?”

  “Yes,” Ben said. “We stayed in Cusco for about a week. Then we went to Machu Picchu for a couple days, and then back to Cusco for a few days more before we came here.”

  Ernesto nodded. Ben had just outlined the typical tourist itinerary. “Did you like Cusco?”

  “Yes,” replied Auggie, in an effort to join the conversation.

  “Yes,” Ben said. “We liked it very much. But it’s not like here, you know?”

  Ernesto nodded in perfect understanding. The city was not at all like the jungle.

  “So,” started Ben, scooping a piece of lasagna onto his fork, “what’s on the agenda for tomorrow?”

  “Tomorrow,” said Ernesto, “we wake up early and go for a walk through the jungle before breakfast. Then we head to the research lodge.”

  “So, we should probably pack everyth—”

  A bright flash interrupted them. They turned their heads and saw Auggie with his head bowed over his camera. He had taken a photograph of his dinner and was studying the result on the playback screen. Sensing their eyes upon him, he looked up at them and shrugged.

  “So,” Ben continued, “we should probably pack up everything tonight, right?”

  Ernesto nodded. “Yesss. No too much time for the packing in the morning, uh-huh.”

  Ben picked up his video camera. “Hey, do you mind if I film you for our movie?”

  Ernesto shrugged noncommittally.

  Ben turned on his camera and angled it toward at Ernesto. “And you said the research center is, what, about four more hours upriver?”

  “Yes,” Ernesto said carefully, “but river is very low.”

  “We’re going to be deep inside the rainforest, then?” Ben grinned behind the video camera. He seemed energized by this news.

  Ernesto nodded thoughtfully. “Mmm, yes.”

  Ben leaned across the table, using his elbows as a tripod. “So, tell us about the research lodge. What kind of animals will we see?” He recalled Ernesto’s fancy binoculars and added, “Will there be lots of birds there?”

  Ernesto’s face lit up, instantly youthful. “Many kinds of birdess, uh-huh.”

  Cooper glanced up from his plate. “Cool,” he said, still chewing. “Like the ones we saw today?”

  “Uh-huh, and many different parrots and macaws.” He pronounced the word mack-oz. “They come to feed on the clay in the morning. Uh-huh. Lots of birdess all coming at once.”

  Auggie smiled, remembering the documentary he’d watched about parrots and macaws eating clay: the minerals providing a vital but mysterious element of their diet. He vaguely remembered it had something to do with neutralizing the toxins acquired from other parts of their food.

  “Are there any native tribes that we can visit?” asked Auggie.

  Ernesto shook his head. “No. The big companies have taken the land for the construction, so now the tribes live another places. Many back in Puerto Malaka, for the jobs. To make money. For the families. Now the people, they try to stop the companies to protect the jungle and the animals, but is difficult to guard all the land, is so big.”

  The kerosene light flickered across Ernesto’s face, and all at once his youthful vigor seemed to vanish. In its place was the life-worn face of a bitter old man.

  There was a moment of quiet reflection. Ben shut off his video camera and respectfully placed it on the table. Cooper had been following the conversation while happily shoveling forkfuls of food into his mouth, and now he paused mid-chew. The fork clanged as he dropped it on his plate with a look of disgust. “That sucks.”

  Ernesto bit his lip, nodding, and the boys found it difficult to look him in the eyes.

  For the remainder of the dinner, the boys went out of their way to engage their guide in lighter conversation. What was the other lodge like? Would there be hiking opportunities? Was it possible to go fishing for piranha? Were they difficult to catch? The boys picked their plates clean as they listened to Ernesto’s slow, hypnotic voice. Shoving the final forkful of rice into his mouth, Cooper pushed his empty plate away, stood up from the table and stretched. He mumbled a vague explanation, something about going to the bathroom, and left.

  He did not return.

  “We should probably go find Coop,” Auggie suggested eventually. “He could be wandering around the jungle for all we know.”

  “Right.”

  “What time do we meet in the morning?” asked Auggie, getting up from the table.

  Ernesto stood up dutifully. “We leave by eight o’clock.”

  “Okay, then. We’ll see you then.”

  After bidding goodnight to Ernesto, Ben and Auggie headed off to find their missing friend.

  Six

  Entering the bar area, the sounds of the rainforest gave way to those of familiar human interactions. Voices rose and fell with the chatter of conversation, punctuated by the clinking of glasses and the occasional burst of raucous laughter.

  Ben was casually scanning the crowded room. “You wanna grab a drink?”

  Auggie yawned into the side of his fist. After last night in Cusco, a drink was the last thing Auggie wanted, but he knew if he answered too quickly, Ben would try to change his mind. Ben was good at that. After a few seconds, Auggie shook his head. “It’s probably not a good idea, man. I mean, I think I’m still recovering from last night, and we have to get up early to catch that other boat.”

  “Right.”

  Ben typically responded with monosyllabic answers when he wasn’t really listening and his mind was focused on something else. Auggie had that old familiar feeling that his brash friend was about to rope him into another one of his harebrained schemes.

  “D
o you see those three blondes anywhere?”

  Auggie shrugged, secretly grateful for their absence. Maybe he’d actually get a good night’s sleep after all. He shook his head.

  “Let’s take a walk over there. See if we can find them.”

  Most of the younger crowd had convened at the farthest corner of the bar, drawn together by the commonality of youth. This is where they discovered Cooper, sitting on a chair between two attractive girls, both of them in their early twenties. Cooper was talking animatedly. He had one hand on top of the bar and was wriggling his fingers to propel the hand forward in a childlike mimicry of a spider or insect. The girls were leaning very close to him, utterly enthralled. On the bar in front of them were three tall glasses filled with a bright blue liquid, each one garishly decorated with fruit and a miniature paper umbrella.

  “There’s Cooper, the lying sack of shit,” Ben said, simultaneously amused and annoyed.

  Auggie was staring across the room with his mouth slightly open. He put a hand on Ben’s shoulder and squeezed. “I think that’s the hottest girl I’ve ever seen.”

  Ben nodded, barely hearing him. Sitting beside Cooper was a tall, voluptuous brunette with a waterfall of black hair that spilled past her shoulders and legs that seemed to go on for miles. Ben had to drag his eyes away in order to look at Auggie. “We gotta get over there.”

  Auggie nodded emphatically. Ben turned on his video camera and focused the lens on Cooper. “So, Coop mysteriously disappeared in the middle of dinner,” Ben narrated. “He claimed he had to use the shitter, but this is where we found him, at the bar, shamelessly hitting on two hotties.”

  Ben zoomed in closer. Cooper was still walking his hand across the bar, unaware that he was now the subject of the camera’s cold scrutiny. The two girls were all but falling off their bar stools as they laughed at whatever it was he was saying. “I don’t get it,” Ben said. “He’s not that funny, is he?”

  “It’s The Cooper Effect,” Auggie murmured.

  Ben hit the PAUSE button and turned to Auggie, who was yawning again. “What should we do?”

  “I say we stick with the plan. We’ll go say hello, then we’ll grab him and head back to the room. I don’t really feel like drinking tonight, anyway, and we all agreed that we should get some sleep because we need to wake up early and—”