by L. A. Banks
"We don't know how dis gwan go down, right? But, say if God smiles on us, and you make it, den, I have a balm. Heal as much as you can before you take another blow, little sista. Before you work dat taxed muscle again. Dat's why time and attention heals wounds."
She squeezed his hand and chuckled. "Oh, Kamal…" She didn't know what to say. This man with his wisdom and wry sense of humor, his warmth; how did Marlene ever leave him, were-jag in his system, regardless?
"I'm gwan show you sometin', but I don't want you to tink I'm being fresh, all right?"
Damali swallowed away a smile with another tremor of guilt. She nodded.
Kamal opened his right hand wide and held it up to his shoulder level, splaying his fingers and closing his eyes. "You already know how to do dis," he murmured. "Nobody got to tell you. It's in your cells, gurl."
She watched him, stunned, as she raised her hand to hover a few inches from his. She could feel the electric current pass between their hands and knew he and Marlene had done this, too. And also understood that was why Marlene was so freaked when Carlos had called her like this from miles away. Carlos had opened his hand and mentally placed it on her compound window, and she'd responded in kind to feel his emotions across the distance, even through four inches of bulletproof glass.
The warmth in the center of her hand began to tingle. It was a very intimate gesture as they both sat in the late-afternoon sun breathing slowly.
"You do dis by de ocean, until your heartbeats match da waves," he murmured.
She wanted to weep, but didn't. Her tears had dried last night. "He doesn't have a heartbeat," she whispered.
"You're so wrong, gurl. Can't you feel it? His skin vibrates with your touch, his eyes, de way dey look at you. The breath he breathes in deep when you're in his arms. The way he catches your breath when you have him teeterin' on de edge of oblivion. All dis has a rhythm, a pulse, like music. Sync it up to da natural rhythm of da tide, and when your palm pulses to that rhythm, your heartbeat matches de pulse of the cosmos which is in the sea—sometin' unbroken since da dawn of time, place his hand over your heart, yours over his, and send him everytin' of love for him inside you. He will send it back, like da tide ebbs and flows, giving and receiving, da rocking motion of back and forth. It is how life is created, and it heals, gives birth to new tings, his heart will beat in your palm, and for your hand only."
Kamal lowered his palm and placed it on Damali's chest, and she was immediately filled from the inside out with indescribable peace, warmth, gentleness, solace, everything that Kamal wished for her that was good. She'd thought the tears were gone, but cleansing waters flushed her system of worry, doubt, fear, anger. She breathed hard and placed her hand over his chest in return, willing back his safety, his healing after finally losing Marlene, and when she opened her eyes she saw his eyes glittering with moist appreciation as he removed his hand from her chest.
"Thank you," he whispered. "Getting ole, and forgetting to put balm on myself from time to time."
No one said a word, but thirty-three veterans of spiritual wars simultaneously looked up from the barge, judging the low angle of the sun, concern in their eyes behind dark glasses. A low canopy of trees allowed in dappling sunlight. Insects hummed in loud passing whirrs and took potshots at human flesh. Dragonflies, water skeets, frogs, monkey chatter and birds reveled in their habitat, sending a chorus of busy jungle conversation to drift with the boat, unfazed.
This was their home. Mother Nature's domain. Lazy crocodiles sunned themselves on the shorelines; their huge jaws open, waiting, just in case something miscalculated a branch and fell from the trees. Sets of reptilian eyes slowly waded by the edges of the flat vessel, unconcerned by the gunmen who rested automatic weapons on their laps. Those eyes seemed to wink a warning that the armed men respected; sit too close to the edge, dangle a limb, and it's fair game.
The two-level boat pushed a V of disturbance through the brown water with a dull motor drone of its own. The flat, wide lower deck was a repository for three quarters of the team; the upper deck held the center core of warriors—Damali, Kamal, Shabazz, Marlene, Rider, Big Mike, and the dry ammo. Up high, if there was an ambush, the strongest would go first, but also had the most skill to survive a sudden attack. There was nothing to do but wait, move forward, endure the heat and humidity, and blend in with the rhythm of the Amazon. She could feel the jungle give strength to Kamal's group, and she monitored their vibrations, knowing somehow that his team hungered to hunt in a pack, called by the elements.
Finally, Kamal nodded. That slight motion was enough to bring the upper deck's inhabitants to attention.
He'd motioned toward two twelve-foot statues carved in black stone. The figures were almost obscured by the natural camouflage created by a heavy strangle of vines that wrapped around them. "From dis point," he said, his voice drawing the lower deck occupants' attention, "on guard."
All eyes carefully appraised what antiquity had left behind. The heads of the tall stone totems were of jaguars brandishing vicious fangs, eyes sunken. But the bodies bore human female breasts with hands crossed over them, fists clenching battle-axes, bows over their shoulders, quivers affixed to their hips, their bulging vulvas covered by loincloths, their calves wrapped in bootlegs, their feet hooked, jaguar claws.
"The heart of the old human were-jaguar territory is overrun by demons. We gwan hafta go three miles inland on foot to da caves. By day, dey sleep in their original female bodies. By night—"
"We have to get off this boat?" Rider wiped his brow and checked his weapon. "Thought we could serve this prom invitation longdistance, bazookas in hand."
"You know better than that, brother," Shabazz said as he checked his weapon. "Gotta take it to 'em, just like big-game vampire hunting in the day. Gotta catch 'em on the offense."
"Judging by the sun," Damali said, "we don't have much light left and we still have to drag all this ammo three miles inland toward their lairs, and get back to the boat before sundown."
"You hear how quiet it is all of a sudden?" Big Mike murmured.
Both decks of soldiers nodded and looked around.
"Dock it," Kamal ordered. "Don't have a lotta time to be worrying 'bout it."
Three annoyed crocodiles slipped into the water as the craft neared the shore. Even Big Mike took his time before jumping down from the vessel. The shore was pure mud, crocodiles moved fast—one false step, and it was over. But the big men got down first, and gave a nod of all clear.
Jumping down, the team disembarked, guns held high as Big Mike and Kamal's huge man, Drum, strained to draw the rope tight, mooring the boat to a nearby tree. Ammunition was loaded down next, also held high, handled with care to keep it dry and stable. Kamal began walking; nobody talked. Everybody listened and prayed.
All of a sudden Big Mike, on right flank, held up his hand. The group froze. He used his gun barrel to point at a massive coil that was silently unfurling under a wide spread of palm leaves on the ground.
"Anaconda," Kamal murmured. "It lives here. Don't bother her; she won't bother you. Rattlers will warn before dey strike, so open your ears and respect what you're being told." He began walking, then stopped and pointed up at another huge snake. "Emerald tree boa—dey blend in, look like sunlight coming through da trees, and drop heavy from them. Keep one eye up, one eye down, like de lizards out here do."
"Mike is right, though," Damali finally said. "It's too quiet." The group stopped walking. "The bird calls are too distant. They're moving away. Don't even hear insects." Damali sniffed, catching a foul whiff of something she couldn't immediately describe, and she glanced up at the waning sun. The dense thicket of trees made the light stop before it hit the jungle floor.
Rider sniffed with Kamal and Jose. Kamal's team seemed to be in sensory overload, as they cocked their heads and took in deep inhales to pick up a scent. Using the barrel of his automatic, Rider pointed toward a cluster of vines and broad leaves. Kamal nodded. Damali tightened her hold on her
Isis blade, and Marlene gripped her fighting stick harder.
"Dead flesh," Kamal confirmed. Each of the teams' olfactory sensors just nodded.
Slowly advancing, Marlene held up her hand for the others to wait. In unison, they all looked at the same spot on the ground. Using the long ebony stick, she lifted the leaves and then quickly turned her head away. The corporeal remains of several rotting bodies writhed with insect larva, angry beetles, river rats, and small snakes all trying to continue the decomposition process that the sun had abandoned in the shade. "As many times as I see it, I can never get used to it," she said quietly.
Her stick trembling, Marlene motioned for the others to look at the dismembered arms, legs, heads, and still-slithering intestines. Talismans had been dropped over the remains. "Sorcery," she stated, and then covered her mouth and nose with her hand to help block the stench.
"We're near, but the markings are wrong. These decoys were only left to confuse our trackers. We could spend hours wandering around trying to find the right cave entrance." Damali shook her head. "By then, we'll be lost with no sense of how much remaining sunlight we had left. It's a trap. Take a whiff. Something stronger is coming from the other direction." She pivoted and headed off on a new trail for a few yards, then walked back.
Kamal smiled. Marlene smiled. Shabazz nodded, picked up a rock, and threw it a few yards toward the path where the entire team was previously headed. The slight vibration of the stone hitting the center of the trail sent a hail of arrows flying from both the left and right sides of the route that the team would have taken. The arrows whooshed and mounted in nearby foliage, sprung loose from a giant Venus flytrap catapult hidden under leaves. One of Kamal's squad raised a bow and arrow toward a high canopy of branches beyond that and fired. Heavy rocks and fetid dead bodies fell, blocking the same path.
The noses in the group dry heaved, but quickly collected themselves before they lost their lunch. Even without the gruesome discoveries, the terrain was brutal on all the five senses. Kamal's team seemed to be fairing better than her guys, having adapted to the jungle environment, but not by much. Human flesh was the most potent and disgustingly foul scent to the animal kingdom. To eat it was unnatural, especially among the wild. Most animals avoided it like the plague.
Damali nodded, forcing the foul air from her lungs. "Yup, folks. It's so quiet because we're so near. Let's move."
"Douse it," Marlene ordered, glancing at Dan. "Just like we do with prayers, black magic also sets up a perimeter. Drop some holy water on the talismans; don't worry about the sacrificed bodies in the traps—too dangerous. But where they've left markers, we can weaken their defense systems."
Dan complied, holding his nose and sidestepping toward the stinking morass on the ground under the leaves, one arm extended as he dropped an open vial and jumped back.
"Get back further than that," Marlene warned, not having to tell Dan twice as the pile of flesh smoldered, began to smoke, and released dense yellow sulfur.
"Definitely the work of demons," Marlene said.
"Okay. That was fun. Now can we please go? Us guys with the noses are catching it."
Rider held a bandanna over his face, and Jose's eyes were watering so badly it looked like he was crying. Kamal's skin had become ashen and seemed like he was about to wretch. Kamal's men were practically staggering. But oddly, even though Damali could taste it all in her throat, the putrid odor invading her nose, her stomach remained steady. Kamal looked at her, and pushed out an answer.
"You stronger, Neteru." Then he covered his face again and walked faster.
Suddenly the hair stood up on Damali's arms, and she stopped, making her way to the front of the line. "I need to walk point from here," she said, looking around, her Isis leveled. Spots moved ever so slightly, like sunlight dappling and shifting in the trees. "Shabazz, use a crossbow and stake, with a holy water tip, to light the trail. I don't want loud gunfire or bazookas going off before we get inside the caves." She pointed to the men behind her. "You guys in the rear, watch your backs, these things circle and pick off stragglers."
Shabazz nodded, sensing with his skin, catching the weapon JL threw toward him, but seeing nothing.
"Five o'clock, my right. A familiar, or one of her girls," Damali whispered. "Light it up, on my order. Soon as the blaze catches the trail, we advance, fast, before the map in the air disappears."
Damali waited and watched, Shabazz circling with her until she dropped her hand. He released the stake, thrusting back his shoulder, cutting through the branches and sinking into something soft that roared.
"Battle stations!"
A rush of leaves, crossbows leveled, two greenish-gold glowing eyes blinked. Then there was a loud hiss, a roar, and instant motion. A gunman from Kamal's team panicked and let out a round from his automatic weapon. The thing was only partially visible, as it lunged through the trees, its deep golden coat oozing black blood, spreading, closing the multiple black spots to cover it and turn the jaguar all midnight.
"Oh, shit…" Rider's section of the squad backed up. "We could use that shoulder cannon now, Big Mike!"
Big Mike fired, but the blast went past the entity as it moved in a lightning-fast, powerful dodge and was gone.
The shell hit with a loud boom and flash of bright yellow light and felled a tree. Spinning fast, the team whirled in all directions, hands sweaty, clenching weapons. Waiting for something to appear again so they could shoot it.
Using her sword as a pointer, Damali motioned to the air. "See why I just wanted to injure it and not kill it, fellas?" Her tone held annoyance. The rounds had probably echoed all through the lair caverns. Making the beast dodge a shoulder-cannon blast only stirred the air, disturbed the path of its retreat, and made the trail of sulfur it bled harder to track on foot. "Damn!"
Shoulders behind her sagged. She didn't look at the squads. She knew they didn't know, but if they were going in, they had to get something straight—if they didn't follow her lead, their asses were gonna die. She spun on the teams, her expression fierce.
"Look, something in me knows what's up out here. Don't ask me how. So let me guide you without giving me a lot of bullshit in return!"
"She's right," Marlene said. "She's the Neteru. She must be the one to lead us here."
Damali could feel her shoulders relax. Cool. Mar had her back. "We follow this trail, stay close, be strategic, and conserve artillery. That way, God willing, we all get back on that boat."
Damali waited. Heads slowly nodded in acceptance. Kamal and Shabazz pounded fists. Marlene gave her a thumbs-up.
"Cool. Follow the sulfur. We're going in."
* * *
Chapter Twenty-Four
The climb to get into the demon's lair would be steep and treacherous. The footlocker of artillery was going to be a problem. The squads were breathing hard, bent over from the steady uphill trajectory. Even Kamal's guys looked winded, sweating, and several men were bent over, hands on knees, sucking in air. Marlene was holding onto a tree, her age beginning to tell on her. Just like there was no easy way to climb mountains with gear out in the wilderness, some things required endurance.
As they stood at the foot of the steep crag of pure rock incline, everyone on the squad shook their heads one by one. Her teams had their eyes on the ground-level mouth of the cave. However, vultures circled high above it. Damali watched the birds.
"There's an opening up there drawing the birds to the carcasses. If we go in from the bottom, there are traps for those coming in on foot. It's too far of a drop by rope, given the height of the trees. Girlfriend isn't stupid. She's very smart." Damali pointed up with her sword. "But, there's a hole up there. Bet she sleeps all day in the shade after eating, like all the big cats do."
"Don't they have to stay out of the light, though, to regenerate?" Rider had pulled off his hat to get more air.
"They have to rest in the day, they're weaker—but you just saw that thing that was spying on us, Rider. That was what they
're like when they're weaker. But sunlight doesn't harm them like vamps."
"Duly noted," he conceded to Damali. "Now what? I'm not trying to leave the ammo behind."
"Normally, we've only seen the demons remain in human form by day," Kamal said, his voice tight. "If it held a were-shape in broad daylight, they're very strong."
"Yeah, I hear you," Damali muttered, her mind working. "This ain't the kind of place you go into with just a blade in your teeth."
"For real." Shabazz eyed the cave entrance. "Too easy."
"I agree," Kamal replied, glancing around.
They were stalled. The entire team was waiting for the order to move, but where did one go? Damali walked back from where they had come from for about ten feet and looked up the cliff. The desire to take off the Amazon-demon's head with Madame Isis was so strong it made her hands tremble. But they were losing sun.
"If we go up the side, we'd have to leave the heavy ammo, and with the way the cliffs are situated, and no mountain-climbing gear on us, a jag could take us easy. We'd die from the fall alone, and I've seen these things pull on their shape-shifting capacity to become huge snakes and crocks." She walked back to where the others stood and motioned toward the cave entrance. "We already know this is booby-trapped, but if we get into a jam, we can possibly force some of her own through it—in the heat of battle, in a flat-out retreat, disorientation is easy. Troops step on their own land mines all the time, if it gets hectic enough."
Kamal nodded. "De other entrances put us about a mile from her lair up top if we have to go through a more obscure opening. Then we have to hope dat we get up dere, zigzagging at an angle, before de sun drops and dey get even stronger." He glanced at Damali, and then at Shabazz and Marlene. "Unless…"
Tilting her head, Damali came near Kamal. "Brother, no disrespect, but time is of the essence."
"I know. But you gotta be strong. You gwan hafta speak out loud some tings to dis team to guide 'em… dat's gwan be hard."