Rumors of Savages

by Carrie Regan

  “Defending your girlfriend? I can respect that,” he taunted, dodging him. “Too bad it won’t keep either of you gainfully employed after I tell my uncle about your behavior.”

  “You little-“ This time, AJ caught him at the knees, and the two landed in a heap on the ground. Max and Buddy stepped aside as they scuffled like teenagers.

  Suddenly, Buddy’s radio crackled.

  “Guys? Guys, are you there?”

  Back at camp, Liz rocked back and forth on top of a decaying log, attempting to memorize every detail of her surroundings before the growing darkness engulfed it. She’d awoken just minutes earlier in the complete darkness of her tent, utterly disoriented, expecting to find that the men had returned. When she realized that she was alone, she started a fire for both light and comfort, hoping its warmth would soothe her nerves before she tried radioing the men.

  “Liz, can you hear me?” It was AJ, breathless from his scuffle with Troy.

  “I can hear you. Where are you?” She prayed they were close.

  “First off, where are you?”

  “I’m at camp,” she said, as though stating the obvious.

  “Thank God. Listen, I hate to tell you this, but we’re still some distance away. At least we think we are. The GPS went out an hour or so ago, and we’ve been wandering around since. We’re exhausted. I think we’re going to have to call it a night, start fresh in the morning.”

  Liz peered into the dark recesses of the jungle. She checked her watch. It wasn’t even six. The sun wouldn’t be up for at least another twelve hours. Twelve more hours alone at camp, in the dark, among the eerie shadows and menacing night calls…

  “Liz?”

  Be calm, she told herself. She swallowed the lump in her throat. “Yeah, AJ,” she began, trying to sound casual, steadying her trembling voice. “I read you. Where do you think you are?”

  “I’m not sure. Your radio signal is clear, so we can’t be more than two, at most three miles away. We’re exhausted, though. If we push on any more tonight, I’m afraid we’ll only get more lost. I’m sure we’ll be able to pick up the trail in the morning.”

  “Sounds like a smart plan to me,” she squeaked, trying to convince herself. Twelve hours alone in the middle of a central African jungle, reputed to be home of cannibals and God knows what else?

  The fear must have shown in her voice, because Max got on the radio next. “Liz, you’re going to be perfectly fine,” he said in a fatherly tone. “You’re safer there than in your apartment in New York. There’s no one around for miles.”

  “I know. I’ll be fine,” she said, trying to sound nonchalant.

  “If you’re up for it, go ahead and make the call to NBC. You can be the star for once, say hi to your friends and family on live TV.”

  “You’ve got it.” She’d completely forgotten about the daily phone call. Bill was probably going nuts waiting for them.

  “Keep the radio by you.” It was AJ again. “I’ll be up all night keeping watch, so if you need to contact us, just call. Okay?”

  Keeping watch from what, Liz wondered, but she didn’t want to start down that road. “Okay. I’ll probably make the call and turn in,” she said, knowing she wouldn’t be able to sleep a wink until morning.

  “Okay. Radio us if you need anything. We’ll see you first thing in the morning.”

  “Okay. Good night.”

  “Good night. Be safe,” AJ replied softly.

  He signed off, well aware that Liz was trying to be tough for them. He also knew few men who wouldn’t be quaking in their boots in her position, and wished he could be of more comfort to her. Resisting the urge to dash into the woods and recklessly search for her, he clipped the radio to his belt and found a log to settle on for the long night ahead.

  CHAPTER 25

  At camp, Liz set up the phone and dialed NBC. As it rang, she checked her watch and panicked: the morning show would be ending in just a few minutes.

  “Max?” answered Bill’s frantic voice.

  “No, it’s me, Liz.”

  “Liz, for God’s sake, put Max on. We’ve only got a few minutes.”

  “Max isn’t here. The guys are lost somewhere in the jungle.”

  There was a pause, and for once, concern crept into Bill’s voice.

  “You’re alone? They left you alone?”

  “Yes,” she said, voice trembling, as tears rolled down her cheeks. For once, he seemed to care. “No choice. I came back early to cover the tents. They lost the trail. We’re in radio contact, but…I’m alone until morning.”

  “Great. Stand by. You’re going on,” he said enthusiastically.

  Liz was caught off guard by his shift in tone. In the mere moments it took Bill to fill in the morning show’s producer, and the producer to fill in Tanya, and Tanya to introduce Liz to the American audience, Liz grasped what was happening. By the time Tanya asked her first question, it was too late to back out.

  A photo of Liz filled the screen as Tanya updated millions of Americans. “Riveting developments from central Africa. Liz, we understand that the men in your team are lost in the jungle, and that you’re now all alone at camp. It sounds like a difficult situation. Tell us, how are you feeling?”

  “I’ve been better,” Liz answered frankly, turning on the videophone’s small onboard camera and pointing it at herself. Back in New York, the dark image of Liz in the jungle filled the screen. The internal dam that held her emotions in check burst, and she continued quickly, letting it all pour out. “Like you said, I’m alone here, in the middle of nowhere. I came back to camp early to cover the tents because we thought it was going to rain. The guys were supposed to be back by now but they got lost, and now I’m here, and it’s getting dark…”

  “Let me get this straight. The men sent you back to camp alone?”

  “Yes. No,” Liz corrected. “I volunteered. Somebody had to do it.”

  “Aren’t you afraid? We’ve heard reports of murderers lurking in that jungle, the same jungle, I might add, where Lawrence Julian Thompson has gone missing.”

  “Of course I’m afraid, but there’s not much I can do about it. I don’t know why the guys couldn’t find their way back to camp. I made it back here alone, without a GPS.”

  “GPS meaning a satellite system that can map a person’s location anywhere in the world,” Tanya explained for the benefit of the viewers at home.

  “Yeah, except when it’s not working, which is apparently the issue here. Every square foot of this jungle looks the same. I’m not sure how the guys are going to find their way back to camp without it. Even if they do, I’m not sure how we’ll get out of this jungle.”

  “You don’t have a back up?”

  “No. The Adventure Channel didn’t send one.” Liz knew the comment would make Bill and Adventure look bad, but she didn’t care. She was too tired and scared to be diplomatic. “The GPS we’ve been using was Thompson’s. We’ve been following the coordinates he stored in it on his way into the jungle.”

  Across America, parents stopped preparing their children’s school lunches, absorbed by the drama unfolding on TV. Friends called other friends, telling them to turn their televisions to AM Live. In coffeehouses and health clubs, proprietors turned up the volume on television sets, and in airports and bus stations, clusters of travelers gathered around monitors, all clinging to the words of the frightened young woman.

  “Well, it looks like your team may have discovered the hard way how Thompson disappeared,” Tanya said empathetically. “Tell me, is there anything we can do to help?”

  “No, I’m sure we’ll be fine. I don’t mean to complain, I’m just a bit overwhelmed,” Liz said quietly.

  “Well, that’s certainly understandable. You’re in an overwhelming situation. You’re a very brave woman, Liz, and we wish you the best of luck. You’re a real inspiration, and we look forward to having you in the studio to talk about your experience when you return.”

  “Thanks Tanya. That means a
lot,” Liz said, genuinely touched.

  “And we look forward to hearing the latest developments from the team – hopefully the full team – on their quest to find lost anthropologist Lawrence Julian Thompson when we check back in with them the same time tomorrow,” Tanya said to the audience, leading out of the story.

  It was Bill’s cue that it was safe to pick up the phone. “Liz?”

  “Bill?” she guessed, bracing herself. His tone wasn’t nearly as comforting as Tanya’s.

  “You ever hear of not biting the hand that feeds you?” he snapped.

  “You could have sent us a GPS,” she said defiantly.

  He sighed. “I know you’re tired, and alone, and upset, so I’m not going to blame you,” he said, his voice revealing that he already did but was trying hard not to. “I just wish you would have thought about the impact of your words before you spoke.”

  There was so much Liz wanted to say – that she didn’t know that she was going to be interviewed, that it was hard to be fresh for an interview when she was busy fearing for her life; that she was sorry if he didn’t like what she had to say but that frankly, she didn’t give a damn, because he would be going home that evening, sleeping in his own comfortable bed while she would be sitting on that damn log all night, afraid to even walk to the edge of the campsite to pee. She was so overwhelmed with all she wanted to say that she didn’t say anything, choosing to fume privately instead.

  “Whatever. It doesn’t matter. Just make sure Max is on the phone tomorrow,” Bill snapped, breaking the silence.

  Make sure Max is on the phone tomorrow? Did he even listen to what she said? “Whatever,” Liz said, and pressed her thumb against the power button.

  She held the phone in her hands and, despite the need to conserve valuable battery power, considered making another call. To whom? Her best friends? What words of comfort would a management consultant or lawyer have that would help her current situation? They’d be even more freaked out, which was the last thing she needed. She was kidding herself. She really just wanted AJ.

  She tucked the phone away, picked up the radio, then hesitated. He’d sense her fear. It’d only make him worry more, make him do something rash. And like he said, wandering around in the dark would only get them into more trouble.

  She stared hard at the radio, willing it to speak. It’s a test, she decided. If AJ called, it’d be proof that they were on the same wavelength, that they were meant-

  Just then, a distant pinprick of light caught her attention. She squinted into the darkness, but it had vanished. Was it a firefly? Her imagination? It couldn’t be the guys; they would have radioed if they were trying to make it back to camp.

  She squinted into the jungle one last time, then turned her attention back to the campfire, stoking it and tossing another branch onto the flames. Jittery and anxious, she couldn’t help but glance into the same patch of jungle every few moments. “No one around for miles, no one around for miles,” she whispered, repeating Max’s words.

  But Max was wrong. Just beyond the clearing, a figure squatted at the base of a tree. He’d been there much of the night, attracted by the flame and the sound of her voice, watching, waiting, almost giving himself away by accidentally flicking on his flashlight. It’s time, he thought, grinning, as he studied the lone woman by the fire.

  CHAPTER 26

  Just a little over a mile away, the men kicked together beds of leaves and collapsed onto them. Max was asleep minutes after hitting the ground. The others weren’t as fortunate.

  A buzzing insect tickled Buddy’s left ear. If he still had his lucky cap, he thought, he could just pull it down over his ears and be done with it. Eventually, annoyance outweighing his exhaustion, he dug into his pack for a spare tee shirt and wrapped it around his head.

  Of course, the hat never would have covered his ears completely, but Buddy wouldn’t acknowledge the limits of its powers. The hat had been given to him on his birthday by his daughters – really, his wife, since his girls had been babies at the time – years ago. She’d instructed him to wear it on every shoot, as a way of carrying them with him. When he wore it, she said, they would be watching over him, and in a way, they were: he kept a plastic-coated picture of them taped inside the lid. He could always pull the hat off and see his girls smiling at him, comforting him in even the worst situations. Each night, whether he was in a tent or hotel room, he needed only to set the hat on its side to have his family there with him.

  He rolled over onto his other side, disturbed by the thought of the photo out in the wild, as though it were his wife and daughters and not a three-by-five paper image of them that he’d so foolishly lost. He couldn’t – wouldn’t – continue without the hat. It was the only thing, he was convinced, that would protect him and guarantee his safe return home. He had no choice; he had to find it. That decided, he was finally able to drift off to sleep.

  Troy heard him roll over and wondered if Buddy was having as much trouble falling asleep as he was. Despite his exhaustion, he simply couldn’t sleep. It was a vicious cycle: the more he thought about it, the more anxious he grew, and the less likely he was to fall asleep. His throat was dry, his heart racing. He was oversensitive to the slightest sound or touch, to the point where an ant crawling across the back of his hand caused him to jump and scratch it raw.

  We may never get out of here, Troy thought. The GPS wasn’t working, and there was absolutely no sign of the path back to camp. They could wander the jungle for days, or weeks. How could he be so foolish, to let it go this far? He should have gone back with the porters. He could have caught up with them. Now they were doomed. He wasn’t a religious man, but he suddenly found himself bargaining with a higher power: Get me out of here, and I’ll read to the blind. I’ll volunteer in a soup kitchen. Anything. Just get me home.

  Of course, there was some hope. Liz was back at camp, with a radio. She had to be close, or they wouldn’t have picked up her signal. It’s a good thing they sent her back, or they’d all be lost out here together. For a moment, he wished he’d had the guts to return to camp himself, then reconsidered his situation. He was surrounded by the other men, with at least enough food to last them a few days. Liz was alone.

  A disturbing thought suddenly occurred to him. What if something happened to Liz? If there were murderers in the jungle, they’d surely be attracted to their camp, its colorful tents, and expensive gear. If she “disappeared” overnight, how would they ever find their way back home?

  He felt the urge to radio her, desperately needing to hear her voice and know that she was okay. He glanced over at AJ, fussing with the fire, the radio clipped to his belt. Try as he might, Troy couldn’t think of a valid excuse to call her. Even if he could, AJ would only tell him to get lost.

  Maybe she’d call. Of course she would. She and AJ would check in with each other; they were probably just waiting for the rest of the team to fall asleep so they could engage in a little pillow talk. He’d just wait, and listen…

  AJ glanced down at the radio every so often to make sure it was still on. He, too, felt the urge to call, but Liz had mentioned that she was going to turn in right away, and he didn’t want to wake her. He was impressed with her apparent ability to keep her fear in check, and chocked it up to simple exhaustion. Helplessly aware that there was nothing he could do if Liz did call for help, he willed the night to pass quickly.

  He slid to the ground, back propped against the log. Exhausted, he envied the others, curled up in their leafy nests, sleeping. He’d volunteered to keep watch, feeling responsible for getting them lost, not trusting anyone else to stay alert should Liz call. They had a lot to do the next day – return to camp, pack up, push further into the jungle, assuming they could get the GPS to work, or wrap the film and get out of there if they couldn’t. The thought of it overwhelmed him. Resting against the log, he gazed up at the stars. He closed his tired eyes for a moment – just a moment, he told himself – and swiftly fell asleep.

  CHAPT
ER 27

  While the men slept in their corner of the jungle, Liz sat up, alert to every noise, checking her watch approximately every ninety seconds as she willed time to pass and dawn to break. She now regretted her long afternoon nap. Wide awake, she would have gladly, in hindsight, exchanged profound sleep during these long, dark nighttime hours for the snooze she’d enjoyed during the warm, bright afternoon.

  Eventually, she, too, slid off her log, settled on the ground and rested her back against the soft decaying wood. She, too, leaned her head back and gazed up at the stars. Her eyelids grew heavy and she felt herself, despite her fears, slowly surrendering to sleep.

  Suddenly, the snap of a nearby branch woke her with a jolt. Bolting upright, she squinted among the trees, unwilling to believe what she saw, wondering if she was, in fact, still dreaming.

  The light went out, then reappeared, floating among the trees, gradually growing closer and closer as it moved steadily toward her.

  CHAPTER 28

  Bill Warner stormed through the reception area of Adventure’s offices. Passing Peggy without a word, he ducked into his office and slammed the door.

  Almost immediately, he opened it and shouted, “Peggy! Get me Maxine!”

  Moments later Maxine, Adventure’s public relations guru, appeared at his door and quickly flashed him a nervous smile as she took a seat.

  The typical TV public relations person was cool, poised, and always in control. Maxine was just the opposite. Scattered and scatterbrained, her curly hair was never quite manageable, her lipstick (what wasn’t on her teeth) always a bit off, her clothing rumpled, her thin black wire glasses slightly askew. Her nervousness showed when she spoke: her words came out rapidly, and at times she even stuttered nervously.

  Bill had no time for formalities. “Did you see the show this morning?” he demanded.