RACE AMAZON: False Dawn (James Pace novels Book 1)

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RACE AMAZON: False Dawn (James Pace novels Book 1) Page 23

by Andy Lucas


  ‘I don’t know why, just that it isn’t,’ Pace replied evenly. 'But we can’t stay here and sort it out now. We have to move on. If it stays down, we can still get help when we get to the river checkpoint, I’m sure.’ Just like any military training or exercise he’d ever been on, things invariably fouled up and you had to use your initiative.

  ‘When they don’t hear from us a few hours past the time they expect, McEntire will send in helicopters anyway,’ Hammond reasoned. ‘As long as we stick to the road, they’re bound to spot us. I’m sure we’re just in a dead spot with the transmitter. Perhaps we should stay here and have a look at it, you know, in case there’s a loose wire or something. We don’t need to press on, do we? We’re miles away from whoever killed the doctor.’

  ‘Apart from the fact that the transmitter should be able to both send and receive, anywhere in the world, whatever the weather,’ Pace snapped brusquely, ‘time may be something we don’t have much of. It depends on who killed Prassal and if one death is enough.’

  ‘It was a dart from a blowpipe,’ bristled Hammond, not liking Pace’s tone. ‘A disgruntled native taking pot shots at foreign meddlers, that’s all it could be, come on.’

  ‘What if it isn’t just one person,’ Pace spoke coldly. 'We are in an area of the world notorious for dealing native populations a raw deal for hundreds of years. There could be an entire tribe waiting to pick us all off, for a dozen reasons. Publicity for a cause, international recognition of a problem, who knows.’

  ‘Anything’s possible,’ Ruby agreed, ‘but we have to deal with the probable.’ She had recovered some of her composure and was making a concerted effort to think clearly. ‘And pray Team Three have better luck than us when they pass the same spot.’

  ‘There is no sign of anything befalling Tim’s team,’ remarked Cosmos, an ever-present sense of strength emanating from his towering frame. ‘They passed the spot where Attia died before our transmitter failed. We would have heard something from them wouldn’t we?’

  ‘That’s right.’ Light sparked at the end of the tunnel for Ruby. ‘If they ran into trouble, we would have heard about it.’

  ‘We don’t know when our transmitter stopped working? Pace disagreed. ‘It might be a temporary glitch, or it could have been dead for external communications for several hours.’

  ‘A cheery thought,’ spat Hammond.

  ‘Enough talking anyway,’ Pace commanded, much to everyone’s surprise, although Cosmos was hard pushed to hide a knowing smile that twitched at the corners of his mouth. ‘I’ll keep trying to raise Manaus while we ride. I’d rather offer a moving target.’

  The next few hours gripped everyone with fear and doubt. After an hour the road plunged back into the swamp but rose back up quickly before dropping once again. It went on that way, like a demented water ride in a theme park, but at least the rain stayed off as evening fell.

  Their speed had to change with the road conditions but they managed to put another twelve miles more between themselves and Attia’s killer before the cloud-shrouded sun set below the tree line.

  As darkness thickened around them, they literally collapsed with exhaustion; chests and lungs heaving amidst rivers of sweat.

  With all thoughts of legitimate racing abandoned, they all breathed heavily and rubbed the pain from burning leg muscles. The others pushed their microphones away from their lips so they could speak normally together; Pace kept his in place and tried to send a Mayday again, as he had now done a couple of dozen times. Static hissed a mocking response.

  While the others broke out some energy bars and bottled water, he took the chance of a rainless sky to examine the transmitter properly. Once fully out of the protective casing in the base of his pack, all appeared normal. The charge was high and the test circuitry looked fine. Everything was as it should have been except he couldn’t get a signal out.

  Ruby and Cosmos did their best to look unconcerned but their heads twitched regularly across to the intimidating walls of jungle hedging them in on both sides. What was hiding in there? Was death about to strike again? The others slipped on their night visors as Pace waved away the offer of food and drink. A veteran of several military exercises, he knew that survival depended upon concentrating on the job in hand. Hammond remained very cool and calm about their situation.

  Pace’s hands flew across the obvious circuitry of the transmitter box once more and it still looked the same. He took a tiny screwdriver from his pack and unscrewed the back cover. Pace manhandled one of the bike frames so that the front light could be switched on again and directed into the transmitter’s innards. He couldn’t use his own visor because he needed to be able to distinguish between different coloured wires and circuit boards.

  The electrical charge was definitely reaching the right places, all the necessary lights were lit, and nothing was loose, broken or chipped on either the circuit boards or amongst the mass of tiny, interlocking multi-coloured wires.

  He changed the back-up batteries and the three main internal leads for good measure but still the set refused to transmit anything over the angry static. The entire process took less than a quarter of an hour, after which time he remained stumped.

  Why did it work between themselves but not externally? If it was broken, team communications should have packed up as well, shouldn’t they?

  He carefully packed the transmitter back into his pack and checked the internal communications again, which still worked fine. What to do now? More certain than ever that they were in real danger, he switched off the bike lamp and finally accepted a much needed bottle of water, which he drained. He put on his own visor as he drank.

  ‘Behind us is a major city, with soldiers, policemen and the world’s media,’ panted Ruby, slowly recovering her breath as she tackled her second bottle of water. ‘Ahead lies a short run of nothing. We just get deeper and deeper into the Amazon basin until we reach the staging post, with the hovercraft. There aren’t any people there, just another machine and some more supplies. I feel like a sitting duck.’

  ‘The killer is behind us,’ reminded Cosmos. They all now stood in a tight group in the centre of the slippery brown road.

  ‘The killer,’ Hammond said softly, ‘could be right here with us. How do we know he hasn’t kept up with us and is just waiting for the right moment to strike again?’

  ‘Don’t be so melodramatic,’ snapped Ruby.

  ‘Melodramatic but possible,’ Pace cut in. ‘If we turn back we will be heading straight into danger. Ahead is the only option, and as fast as we can manage. We’re all very tired I know but there can’t be far left to go. We can ride on and take no breaks.’

  ‘It doesn’t matter who killed Prassal,’ decided Pace. ‘All these things will come out in time and Cosmos is right on one thing. If there’s an organised plan to get us, if it’s not just some lone nut, we don’t stand a chance anyway. So we’re leaving, right now. Agreed?’ It was rhetorical because he wasn’t about to take ‘no’ as an answer from anyone. Ruby looked a little miffed but didn’t object. He was talking perfect sense, which pissed her off all the more.

  ‘Whatever is back down the road can stay there. The set isn’t working and there’s no reason for it not to.’

  ‘Okay, so we should just start riding,’ offered Hammond icily.

  Thirty seconds later, they were riding as fast as possible through the darkness. The short spell of dry weather chose that moment to ditch them, emptying torrents of warm rain upon their heads.

  With all their attention firmly fixed on the rapidly flooding road in front of their knobbly tyres, the rain and pressing darkness were the best cover they could hope for.

  Epilogue

  Rain hammered down onto the corpse, still laying in the middle of the road where it had been left. Darkness had fallen in the hours since its companions had ridden away, fearing for their own lives, and a storm had come. Alone, the body should have just waited to rot.

  But, instead, it twitched; almost imperce
ptibly, then again more strongly. Terrifyingly, it trembled and shuddered for a few minutes, then one arm slowly rose from the muddy road and pushed the pack off to one side. With zombie-like deliberation, the body pulled itself upright into a sitting position.

  Eyelids flickered and snapped open.

  Attia came to, as he knew he would, and felt as if he’d been run over by a tank. His chest screamed in agony and he struggled for breath. Leaning a shaky hand inside his top he pulled off the reinforced brace that was secreted beneath it; designed to protect his ribs from the CPR that was bound to be attempted by his companions, and also keep his chest perfectly still.

  Next he pulled away slivers of fake skin from each wrist and from around his neck. The clammy, rubberised material gave the perfect impression of cold skin and was designed to shield the living pulse beneath. With a switch of the contents in the adrenaline injectors too, death had been fairly easy to fake.

  He’d secretly swallowed a fast-acting tranquiliser pill to make sure the ruse looked as believable as possible, which it obviously had. It took him a few minutes to recover fully but after a few deep breathing exercises and some light stretching, he felt pretty much himself again. He didn’t like having to deceive people but he had needed to die in this place and he had done so convincingly. Having a second spy in the team also helped.

  From his pack he pulled a hand-held GPS unit and checked his location. Nodding to himself that he was in the right place, he headed into the solid wall of forest to his left, slipping on a night visor as he did so and cursing as his boots sank into deep mud at the forest edge. A very large machete appeared from another hidden sleeve inside his pack and easily slashed a path through the greenery.

  Within minutes his presence was a faded memory, his footprints washed away, leaving no sign that the dead had arisen. The maelstrom awaited him.

  Continue the adventure!

  RACE AMAZON: Maelstrom, available now.

  For more information about the author, including impending new releases, please visit www.andylucasbooks.

 

 

 


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