Rumors of Savages

by Carrie Regan

  They reached camp as the sun was setting, soaked from the waist down. While Liz and AJ sloshed over to the fire to dry, Alex headed for his tent. Finally, Max spotted his opportunity.

  “Liz, AJ, listen, quickly-“ he began.

  BANG! A gunshot rang out through the jungle, causing a flock of birds to noisily take flight and shower the clearing with leaves.

  “Damn! Well, we know she works!” Alex chuckled, strolling over to them, gun in hand. “Sorry gang. I was cleaning her and must have accidentally flipped the safety off.”

  “Be careful with that thing!” Liz said sharply. “You could have killed somebody.”

  “You’re absolutely right. I could have,” he said, casting Max a look as he settled in a spot around the campfire.

  Alex was clearly never going to leave them alone long enough, Max thought. The gun set the balance of power clearly in Alex’s favor, and he would just have to bide his time and wait. With darkness settling in, Alex would nod off eventually. And when he did…

  Oblivious to the tension between the two men, Liz leaned against AJ, more grateful than ever to have him near. If it weren’t for him, she thought, she surely would have lost all hope long ago. Images of Troy’s bloodied skin flickered before her eyes, and she held him tighter.

  “It’ll be alright,” AJ whispered in her ear.

  “You guys don’t have to wait up. I’ll stand guard,” Alex said. Max looked up quickly. “What’s wrong, Max? Don’t trust me to protect you?”

  AJ piped up before Max could respond. “You want to stay up, be our guest. We’ve got a long day ahead of us tomorrow. This goes without saying, but no one, under any circumstances, should leave camp tonight. If you need sleep, Alex, don’t think twice about waking us.” Liz nodded. They stood, hands linked, and gave a collective “goodnight” before starting for AJ’s tent.

  “I’ll turn in too,” Max said, jumping up hastily to join them.

  “So soon?”

  “Still trying to shake that bug, you know.”

  “Sleep tight then,” Alex called after him.

  By the time Max reached his tent, AJ and Liz had zipped theirs up for the night. No worries. He’d find his opportunity — he’d just have to be patient and wait Alex out. It was all just a matter of time.

  CHAPTER 42

  Still fuming, Bill stepped into the elevator and pressed the button for the 40th floor. Two attractive young women, a blond and a brunette sporting short skirt suits, followed him into the elevator, temporarily diverting his brain from an avalanche of angry thoughts.

  How could NBC have deceived him? Even worse, why hadn’t he anticipated it? After the way they’d handled the story that morning, he could only imagine what they’d do to him during an hour long “special.” This time, he wouldn’t be there to defend himself, or the Adventure Channel. It couldn’t be legal, what they were doing. He’d have to find a way to stop them. When the elevator reached the fortieth floor and the doors opened, Bill slipped between the women to exit.

  “Excuse me,” the blond said. “Wasn’t that you on television this morning?”

  There was a God, he thought, anger abating, and this was His way of reminding Bill that everything would be okay. “On AM Live? Yes, it was.” Which should he pick? The blond? Brunette? Maybe…both?

  “We thought so,” said the brunette. “We think you’re an asshole.” The doors closed abruptly, and with a sigh, Bill resumed his long shuffle to Adventure’s offices.

  The ringing phones outpaced Peggy’s ability to answer them as Bill stormed by and slammed his office door. He reopened it just long enough to bellow for Maxine before slamming it once again.

  “Has the team called yet?” he demanded when his public relations director settled in the chair across from him.

  Maxine adjusted her glasses and tried to smile. “Umm…I…I don’t know. I mean, they would have called NBC, if they called at all, right? That’s what-”

  Bill held up a hand to put an end to her rambling, even if she was right. He made a mental note to send them a text message telling them to call him instead. “What about this special tonight? Who from Adventure is coordinating with NBC?”

  “Well, they’re working independently. They were very adamant about having complete control.”

  “So let me get this straight. If our own crew calls in, we won’t know until we watch their goddamn show tonight? And we won’t know what they’re putting in their show about us until we watch it as well?”

  “Umm… I suppose that’s right.” She continued hopefully, “We’re organizing a party for the staff at the bar downstairs so we can all watch together. Peggy is sending around an e-mail.”

  “Great. We’ll all be together for the public humiliation.” He pressed on. “How can they do this? Produce a special about our own crew without us? Where are they getting their material?”

  “We gave them everything – copies of the shows, pictures, contacts – when all this started. I thought that’s what you wanted. It was in the contract.”

  Bill knew it was in the contract and didn’t need Maxine to remind him. In fact, he was well aware that it was his fault. He’d been so eager to team up with a major network that he’d scarcely looked at the document before signing. He resisted the urge to cover his ears and block out Maxine’s voice, or start barking like a dog until she ran, frightened, from the office. Instead, he narrowed his eyes, pressing the end of his pen against his lower lip until the point of contact grew white from blood loss.

  Maxine thanked her lucky stars that he hadn’t inquired about viewer feedback. Or the threatening calls they’d received. Or the appearance of sobbing friends and family members of the crew on local news networks across the country. No, he was upset enough without knowing all the gory details. Best not to tell him now.

  “If that’s all…” she began, gathering her papers. Bill refused to react, knowing that if he opened his mouth, he’d skewer her. He pushed harder on the pen, almost enjoying the pain it inflicted as it censored him by pinning his mouth shut.

  “Right,” she said, getting up and turning to leave. Her papers slipped to the ground and scattered, and she quickly raked them together and retreated to the door.

  As the door closed behind her, Bill turned and gazed out the window. His crew was out there, somewhere, thousands of miles away. Weeks from now they’d be back and this would all be over. The thought put the day’s events into perspective. His team would be back in the country, they’d make a fabulous documentary, and it would be NBC’s turn to look the fool. It was all, he told himself, just a matter of time.

  CHAPTER 43

  Max lay on his back, staring up at the tent ceiling, and checked his watch for the tenth time in less than an hour. Just a bit longer, he thought, and Alex would surely be asleep. Adrenaline surged through him as he tried to busy himself by mentally choreographing his attack.

  Almost two long hours later, Max couldn’t wait any longer. He sat up in his tent, slowly unzipped the door, and peeked out.

  Cautiously, he glanced toward the fire. The embers still glowed, but Alex was nowhere in sight. Perhaps he was lying in the shadow of the log, or relieving himself in the jungle. He looked at AJ’s tent. This was his chance.

  He began to crawl out, but at the last minute his left ankle caught inside the tent and he collapsed onto his chest. Shaking it off, he pushed back up on his hands and knees, and only then noticed the legs of the person who’d been waiting silently in the shadow of his tent. Max met his eyes, just as the blow fell.

  Inside AJ’s tent, Liz sat up suddenly. She’s heard a noise. Something was wrong, she could sense it, and she shook AJ.

  “Wha…what’s up?” he whispered groggily.

  “Shhh!” Liz cupped her hand over his mouth.

  Something struck the side of their tent, and AJ sat up quickly, fully awake. He placed a hand on Liz’s arm, indicating that she should stay put, but she resisted and quickly followed him out of the tent, unprepared for the
spectacle awaiting them.

  Alex had pinned Max to the ground, one hand clamped over his mouth, the other holding a knife to his throat.

  “Sorry to wake you two,” he said, pressing the blade against Max’s throat until a stream of blood seeped down his neck. Max let out a muffled howl and struggled, but Alex held him tightly between his thighs. “Now, it would be really unfortunate for everyone involved if the two of you made any sudden moves.”

  “Alex, what’s going on?” Liz asked. AJ clenched and unclenched his hands helplessly.

  “It’s not so complicated, is it, Max?” Max shook his head in response. “Why don’t you tell them all about it?” He unclamped his hand from Max’s mouth.

  “Get your camera. He’s crazy. He killed Troy, and Buddy-” Max could scarcely get the words out fast enough.

  “Get the camera? Max, Max, always the television star,” Alex said, covering his mouth again. “Now I’m in a bind. I have to kill ‘im, you know. No choice. But you two weren’t supposed to know. Complicates things.”

  “Why would you do this?” Liz asked desperately. She couldn’t believe that she could have misjudged Alex so greatly.

  “Why? The greatest concentration of riches on the planet, just steps away, and you have to ask why?” His eyes glinted. “So close, so close. Closer than ever before.”

  “That’s it? All this to chase some ‘fantasy fortune’?” AJ asked in disbelief.

  “You’re insane!”

  “Insane? That’s what they said at the mining camp. Didn’t believe me there, either. But you’ll both be fortunate enough to see for yourselves how right I am.”

  “But we haven’t done anything. Please, just let Max go!” Liz begged. “We can get you money. We’ll call the network. They’ll wire it wherever you want, whatever amount you want.”

  “And trust you to deliver? Sorry. But don’t worry. I’m not going to kill you two. You’re the strongest members of the team. I need you,” Alex said. “Max, tattoo boy and that fat ass, yes. You two, no. I’ve got plans for you.”

  “So Buddy is dead,” AJ whispered.

  “Dead and buried, sorry to say.”

  AJ winced. He continued, soberly, “There’s been enough killing. Let Max go. We’ll do whatever you say.” Max nodded vigorously beneath Alex’s hand.

  AJ’s mind was racing. He had to stop this lunatic, save Max, and get them to safety. But how? He spotted a metal tent spike at his foot.

  Liz noticed AJ’s toes curl around the spike, and stalled. “You said you have plans for us. What kind of plans?”

  “You’re going to be my army, my porters. Locals were too afraid to come here with me, fight the Bambada and carry their treasure away, so you two will have to do.”

  AJ glanced down at the tent stake. He’d managed to loosen it slightly.

  “I can’t tell you how happy I was when I stumbled upon you, with all the tools I needed to finally locate the Bambada. It’s a shame there were too many of you for me to control. But you two will be just enough. You’ll create a diversion while I sneak into their village. If you live, you can help me haul away the treasure. At least until we make it to Kimkali, where my friends in the local military will arrest you for smuggling. You’ll both rot in jail for the rest of your lives, which will be mercifully short, given the conditions in your average African prison.”

  Liz felt AJ squeeze her hand. Just a bit more time, she thought. “So you killed Thompson?”

  “Who?” Alex asked impatiently.

  “Lawrence Julian Thompson, the anthropologist.”

  Alex laughed. “Please! Drop the charade. There is no anthropologist, is there? We’ve all been after the same thing: the Bambada treasure. Admit it.”

  “If there’s no anthropologist,” Liz asked, stepping in front of AJ to distract Alex, “whose GPS points have we been following all this time?”

  “No more games. You’ve been planning your little trip for some time now. You think I haven’t seen the signs over the past year? Your satellites flying overhead, clicking off photos? Gathering intelligence from above, while I’ve been out here on my own, living like a fucking savage.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “But you didn’t plan on me, did you? I was close, so close, and thanks to your data and that book, I’m finally going to get there.”

  The stake finally came free, just as Alex’s patience reached its limit. “We’ve wasted enough time talking. I’m going to finish off our star, and then we get moving. Hate for you two to see this. Now that everything’s out in the open, at least I won’t have to skin this one to blame it on the savages.”

  Just as Alex pulled Max’s head back, AJ grabbed the stake, lunged forward, and plunged it deep into Alex’s left shoulder. But as he landed the blow, he heard Max gasp. Looking down, he noticed the knife protruding from Max’s chest. The star coughed, blood staining his lips, as Alex slid out from beneath the twitching body and jerked the knife free. Blood pumped from the gaping wound in great spurts.

  “Max!” Liz cried, gently lifting his head onto her lap as AJ applied pressure to the wound.

  Max’s breath grew shallow, and he struggled to speak. With his last reserves of strength, he grasped AJ’s shirt and pulled him close.

  “What it is Max? What can we do?”

  “It’s too late… too late. Tell my wife I love her,” he gasped, “and…g-go win an Emmy for me.”

  Max shuddered, then grew still. AJ felt for a pulse and, after a few moments, shook his head.

  “He’s dead.”

  “You bastard!” Liz cried, blindly raking together bits of stone and grass and twigs and throwing them at Alex in harmless handfuls. He laughed, dodging them easily. AJ grabbed her hands and pulled her toward him as she collapsed in sobs.

  “Shame,” Alex said, wiping the dirty blade on his pant leg, stake still jutting from his shoulder. “Most dramatic part of your story and the cameras weren’t rolling. Take two, anyone?”

  CHAPTER 44

  NBC’s Studio 1A was a hive of activity, with Ned James at its center, directing a team of fellow interns, briefing Tanya and half a dozen other correspondents, basking in the glory of his professional coup. Days earlier he’d been little more than a gopher; today, he was king.

  He’d farmed out the crew’s biographies and instructed the staff to follow up with the families for interviews. He’d downloaded everything he’d read about the Nburu jungle and the Bambada to a correspondent stationed in central Africa; the reporter would join them live during the program. He’d nabbed interviews with Lawrence Julian Thompson’s former students and fellow anthropologists, and managed to find one of Alex Chambers’ ex-girlfriends in Sydney, who’d agreed to an interview with their correspondent in Australia. He even had a lead on a guy named Abdoulaye who’d supposedly set the crew up with porters. In three days, he’d barely slept, but he didn’t care. They were hitting the air in eight hours, and he was soaring.

  Ned swept by his cubicle to check his voicemail. He was surprised to find a call from Mr. Sims, the crotchety director of interns, and froze. His boss was a stickler for protocol, and Ned had violated it. He’d taken the story to Tanya without passing through Sims first, and had taken on additional responsibilities without approval. He was certain Sims would want to knock him down a few notches.

  But the message surprised him. Obviously proud of the work of one of his protégés, Sims was going to recommend to Tony Graham that Ned receive a co-producer credit on the show.

  Co-producer! Ned’s heart raced. No intern had risen to such lofty heights in the history of the show. It was the start of his ascent, he could feel it, and he spun around in his chair in jubilation, sending papers flying.

  With mere hours left before they hit the air, there was little time for celebration. Turning back to his desk, Ned studied the notes he’d scrawled about this Abdoulaye character, and set to work trying to track him down.

  CHAPTER 45

  Liz wiped the tears from her eyes as she helped AJ roll Max
’s body into its shallow grave. When the body came to rest, she tenderly dusted the dirt off his face and covered it with a handkerchief. Alex glanced up from his perch on a tree stump a few yards away, then returned his attention to Thompson’s weathered book about the Bambada, which he’d been paging through anxiously for the better part of an hour. The revolver was tucked in his waistband, its hilt in plain view.

  “What are we going to do?” Liz whispered through tears as they pushed dirt over the body. Her mind was racing. It was hopeless. Three members of their crew were dead. They were stranded in the middle of the jungle with a crazed murderer, with no chance of escaping and no way of calling for help. After witnessing what Alex had done to Troy and Max, she could only imagine what he had in store for them. She realized, too late, that they’d had every opportunity to save themselves – by turning back with Moe and the porters, or by leaving when Buddy disappeared – but had ignored them all. Now they were out of options. Her lower lip trembled as she felt herself consumed by an overwhelming sense of grief and helplessness.

  “We’re going to be okay,” AJ assured her, casting a cautious glance at Alex. “He’s crazy, but we outnumber him. He’ll slip up at some point. We just have to wait him out, do what he wants, play his game.”

  “Poor Max. He was trying to warn us. How could we have been so blind?”

  “Don’t blame yourself. There’s no way we could have known,” AJ said, patting dirt down on the gravesite. That task done, he reached over to pull her into an embrace. “We’re going to be okay,” he whispered emphatically, locking his eyes on hers. “You hear me? We’re going to get through this.”

  Liz nodded, wanting to be brave for AJ. She glared at Alex. “Look at him. He’s psychotic. That stake’s still in his shoulder, and he’s carrying on like it’s nothing.”