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The Lost Hearts

Page 26

by Maya Wood


  “I’ll be right behind you,” he repeated softly.

  Alexis inhaled for what seemed like an eternity, summoning the courage to not only expose herself to this shapeless danger, but to leave her friend behind. Every atom in her body rebelled against his order. She took his hand, wagging her head. Lewis fixed her, and she felt his breath as he leaned into her and rest his mouth against her forehead. His lips brushed her skin. “Now go,” he whispered.

  Alexis’ chin quivered. “Okay,” she said, viciously suppressing a sob.

  “Good. Keep as low to the ground as you can,” he advised her. “But be quick.”

  The soil of the jungle floor sank beneath the heels of her boots as she swiveled to face the clearing. Her horse was farthest from them, but if her adrenaline carried her, she thought she might make it in a matter of seconds. Alexis sprang forward into a low sprint. When she reached the horse, she climbed atop, and as she lifted her boots to dig her heels into the horse’s hindquarters, she saw them. They sprang in clusters from the wide, splayed leaves of banana trees. They were long, thin men with dark eyes. Long stripes of white paint ran from shoulder to hand, with streaks ripping across their chests. They were tearing through swaths of jungle, their faces locked on the spot where she had left Lewis.

  Her throat closed instantly when she saw him. His face split with agony, his eyes frozen on her. He opened his mouth to call out to her, but only the sound of a gurgle escaped his lips. His hands were soaked in dark red blood. They clutched a spear which protruded grotesquely from his lower abdomen.

  Alexis shook her head. “No, no, no, no,” she heard herself screaming. There were more men than she could count. All painted in white stripes. The horse began to spook, and it spun in circles as Alexis tried to steady the swirl of panic in her mind. In an instant, she knew she could not leave Lewis behind. She was alone now. She would be hunted either way. She would rather die by his side than try to flee this inexplicable end.

  She slammed her heels against the hindquarters of the horse and it shot forward. She saw the men’s menacing glares shift into confusion, then apparent amusement as she charged them. She saw one raise his spear, his long muscled arm winding back. Just as the long wooden pole tipped with an arrowhead peeled through the air, Alexis tumbled from the horse’s back. She fell hard against the earth and her elbow screamed with pain. She scrambled to Lewis. He gasped at her, his eyes clouding over. She held his face and pressed herself against him. “Lewis!” It was a shredded cry that filled the forest.

  Lewis’ eyes fell back in their sockets. She shook him. “Please!” she begged. She cupped his face. “Lewis!” she called again, desperately wishing her voice were a rope he could hang onto. When she pulled backed, she saw his eyes straining to refocus. He opened his mouth and a stream of blood trickled from his mouth.

  “Alexis,” he rasped. It was too much. He fixed his eyes on her and with them told her that he loved her. He could feel death pulling at him, and he spent his last living wish on her.

  Alexis disintegrated. “No,” she howled. But he was gone. Twigs snapped all around. When she looked up, they were above her. A circle of sneering faces.

  “Just what the hell are you doing here?” she heard from behind. The circle parted slightly and she saw a round pink face appear. A thrush of yellow poured from cheeks and chin into a wiry beard. He looked around at the men, all of them studying a sobbing, red-haired woman. He shrugged his shoulders and smirked at her as though it were a big joke to find her there. She hardly saw him raise his hand and smash the butt of a pistol against her skull.

  ***

  “What are we gonna do with her, then?” The pink-faced man folded his arms impatiently as he leaned back on the hind legs of a wooden chair. The air in the shack was moist and heavy. It smelled like soiled linens and poorly-bathed men. Two lanterns glowed faintly in the corners, casting a warm light on an otherwise foreboding scene. Another man sat quietly on a stool, and he thumbed a paper stuffed with course shredded tobacco leaves. He rolled it quickly and put its tapered end between his thin lips. From his pocket he retrieved a box. He struck a match and the sharp, angular lines of his face divided into long pointed shadows.

  “Well?” demanded the yellow-bearded man from the jungle.

  “Have you forgotten yourself, Duval? I ask the questions. I call the shots.” He pinched the butt of his cigarette and inhaled deeply, watching his companion with contempt. Duval sniffed in indignation and scratched his head.

  “Okay, but all I’m saying is we gotta do something with her quick. We were on a war raid today, for Christ’s sake. Just a kilometer east of obliterating that village. Then comes along this lady and her Guinean friend.” Duval paused, waiting for agreement. “I mean, dammit Solomon, if a villager was around, we’ve lost our advantage. They could know what we’ve got in store for them. They might be rallying their own war party now. What are we doing hanging onto this woman for?”

  Solomon exhaled a stream of opaque smoke through his nose. He said nothing. Duval threw up his hands in exasperation. “Do you get me, boss? Everything we’ve worked for might have been royally screwed up. And instead of rushing that village like we’ve planned for months now, months, we’re sitting around eyeballing this pretty young thing.”

  Solomon stood from his wooden stool. It scraped against the dirt floor. He brought the cigarette to his mouth and towered above the pile of odorous cloth which had served as their bedding the last months. Now against the filth and stink there was a small, beautiful creature curled in involuntary slumber. He knelt down, took out the cigarette from between his lips, and blew the smoke around her. His fingers fell to the crown of her head and he stroked the bloody gash where Duval had pistol-whipped her.

  “I get it boss,” said Duval, leaning forward now. “You wanna go to bed with her. Fine. But have some sense. She’s dead weight.”

  Solomon flicked the cigarette to the floor. He crushed the heel of his boot against it and ground it into the dirt. “Shut up, Duval. Can you manage that for a bloody minute? I’ve spent the last three months listening to that hole you call a mouth. I can’t believe no one’s ever taught you a lesson. Don’t make me be the one.” Solomon didn’t bother to face Duval. His gaze was locked on the shallow rise of his prisoner’s breathing. The voluptuous slope of her hips.

  “I’m a business man at heart, Duval. You know that. You have any idea what price a beautiful white woman would fetch? At the very least, she might be leverage in a sticky situation.” Solomon combed his greasy locks with his long, bony fingers. “I don’t know what we’ll do with her. But hands off her for now. Got it?” Solomon speared his partner with his eyes. “In the meantime, send two scouts to the village. Make sure they’re still oblivious to the fact we mean to decimate them.”

  Duval stood up stiffly from the chair and cast a pointed glance at Alexis. “You keep your head on, boss. I’ve got a bad feeling about this one.”

  “That’ll be all, Duval,” Solomon said with a dismissive flick of his hand. Duval moved to the shack door, and before it creaked shut behind him Solomon called, “Oh, and Duval? Sleep outside tonight.”

  ***

  There was nothing but blackness. And then a ripping agony that seemed to tear the very surface of her brain. She could feel herself trembling beneath its torturous waves. She could feel her heart now. The acrid filth of the bed linens registered in her nostrils and her stomach turned. Still there was nothing but black. And then she heard it. The unmistakable pull of phosphorous against a matchbox. Her eyes moved frantically beneath her lids as though scanning the dark depths of her brain for clues. She couldn’t put it together. Her senses were shredded, and dimensions apart.

  An amorphous voice of caution warned her to keep her eyes closed, that once she opened them, she would be forced to participate in a nightmare. But before the ominous whisper coalesced into lucid thought, her lids began to lift and shards of light cut at her eyes. Shapes and shadows wavered in her vision. She blinked them
into focus.

  She could make out a wooden structure, daylight squeezing through the shoddily-constructed window and open door. She was level with the ground, bare and black. Her stomach lurched when she inhaled, and her eyes focused on the layers of soiled linens beneath her head. She heaved, and all the blood in her body seemed to push upward like a tide against the walls of her skull.

  “Welcome back.”

  Alexis wasn’t sure she’d really heard it. The sound was almost laced with laughter, with mocking. She raised her head and lifted her eyes. At the back of the room, a long-limbed man with a pointed face watched her through silver beady eyes. He took a drag casually from his cigarette, and he let its smoke filter slowly through his nostrils.

  Alexis swallowed hard. There was no moisture in her body, and her tongue scraped against the roof of her mouth. “What’s going on?” Alexis croaked. She felt the crown of her head rip, as though the length of a sword stripped her mind into pieces. She couldn’t think past it. She couldn’t imagine anything that came before this room, this man. She blinked at him, still adjusting her focus. She saw that his eyes didn’t leave her, that his thin lips curled into a curious smile.

  He took another drag of his cigarette and leaned back on the stool. “You got hurt out there in the jungle. We found you,” he said shortly, and his brow folded in saccharine concern. “And now you’re here. Safe and sound.”

  Alexis felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand in animal-like response. Even if her mind failed to produce answers, every atom of her being shuddered at his chilling demeanor. He leaned forward now, his arms folding over a knee. “You want to tell me what a pretty young thing like yourself is doing in the middle of the New Guinea Highlands?”

  Alexis frowned, and she curled her arms around her ribcage tightly. She shook her head softly. “I….I don’t really understand what’s going on.” Suddenly her mind burst with fragmented images. She remembered they had left the village. They had ridden all day. Lewis. “Where’s Lewis?” she ejaculated almost involuntarily.

  The man lifted a brow in exaggerated distress. “I’m afraid your friend was badly injured, too.” He waved the cigarette in his long, skeletal fingers. “He didn’t make it.”

  “No,” Alexis choked. Her face gathered tightly in grief, and hot tears pooled at the corners of her eyes. She heaved again, this time from the anguish of her loss. She closed her eyes and buried her face in the stinking bed clothes. In a flash she remembered him on the forest floor, convulsing in her arms, blood everywhere. But she did not want to remember this. She could not believe a single moment could rip up the roots of her entire world. She was positively lunatic.

  “There, there,” said the man. His voice was the quiet whisper of a snake. He stood tall and moved to her, looming. Alexis recoiled in alarm.

  “Who are you?” she whimpered.

  That smile again. He flicked the cigarette to the ground and his hand vanished into the deep pocket of his grimy trousers. She saw a coil of rope appear. “My name’s Solomon.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Binda’s hooves raged against the earth in rapid strikes, and chunks of moist soil spit violently outward in their wake. Trevor leaned forward in the saddle to minimize his body’s resistance against the wind. He was just minutes from the place he saw her last. His eyes blinked out beads of sweat that poured from the crown of his head. Trevor jabbed the horse’s hindquarters, willing her to exceed her limits.

  Two days now they had raced through the web of the jungle, stopping for rest only when he thought Binda would falter. His blood pumped furiously with adrenaline, his mind as singularly focused as an animal with only an instinct to survive. He must find Alexis. He had not shaken the awful twisting of his gut since the morning he woke with the chill of death that seeped into his dreams. He couldn’t name the terror in his heart, but he felt it as keenly as a blade shredding his own skin.

  Trevor gulped, fighting the urge to vomit. He couldn’t afford to let the sweeping panic carry him now. He couldn’t afford to let himself imagine what would happen if he found her harmed, or worse, gone from this world. He shuddered as the thought ricocheted uncontrollably through his mind. How would he ever forgive himself for leaving her? He barreled toward the village, the familiar image of the huts rising shallowly along the valley floor coming into view. He knew he was not merely rescuing Alexis from danger. He was obeying his heart’s command. He knew now, with the very lining of his heart, that he belonged to her.

  ***

  “You shouldn’t a been hangin’ around the jungle like that.” Duval sat back in his chair, his thumb grazing the blade of a hunting knife. His eyes were an inbred blue, and they chastised her from the unruly mane of yellow hair and beard.

  Alexis lay crumpled against the floor and tufts of rotting cloth. She made no effort to cry. The tears simply spilled from her eyes as her mind reeled with images of Lewis clutching his side where the spear had penetrated his rib cage. She heard the man who called himself Duval, but she did not respond. She knew nothing good awaited her, and she resigned herself to it. She was dead already. Lewis was gone. Trevor was gone. She was nothing but a speck on a map, worlds away from anything or anyone beloved. She would die here.

  “You don’t say much,” Duval remarked, spinning the knife handle meditatively in his hand. He stared at her a moment. “That’s better, though. Wouldn’t do to have you hollering.” A woman’s voice called from outside, and Duval shot up from his spot in the corner. “Be quiet,” he warned, pressing the blade of the knife against his mouth as a warning before he slipped out the door.

  Moments later, the door creaked open and Duval appeared with two tin bowls. He set one on a shoddily constructed table beneath the shack window and turned to face Alexis. “You’re probably getting hungry,” he laughed. Alexis stared blankly at the ground. Duval set the bowl on the floor, and his large chubby fingers grasped her around the arms and lifted her to sit against the splintered wall. Alexis squirmed uncomfortably, the flesh on her wrists beginning to rip beneath the tightly knotted rope.

  “You sure are pretty,” Duval said, his eyes creeping along her body. Alexis flinched in disgust. Duval chuckled. “Well, it don’t matter. I’m not the one with my hands all tied up. I’d be careful, if I were you.” He took the spoon and stirred at the gluey white sludge.

  “Ain’t much to look at, but it’ll keep you full.” Duval lifted the spoon to Alexis’ mouth. Alexis turned her head, her jaw clenched tight.

  “Now that isn’t very grateful behavior, miss. I could let you starve,” Duval said, his voice rising with self-importance.

  Alexis looked at him squarely. “Then let me starve.” Her voice was raspy, but dead set.

  Duval threw the spoon into the porridge and his hand snapped to her chin. He grabbed her hard. “Don’t think I won’t,” he growled.

  A shadow passed by the window and the door flew open. Solomon towered in its frame. “What the hell are you doing?”

  Duval drew back and shot upward. “I’m just trying to feed the young woman, is all. She’s being difficult.”

  Solomon pulled his hat off and tossed it onto the table. His hair was long and greasy, streaked with blonde and the beginnings of gray. He lifted his brow at Alexis, like a parent investigating the culprit in a sibling quarrel. “Is this true?”

  Alexis cocked her head defiantly.

  Solomon shook his head in exasperation. “We don’t have time for this,” he hissed at Duval. “Just got word from our scout. He says he’s been watching the village and there are no signs they knew we were anywhere close by. Our guys are ready to go. I’m thinking we should launch our attack early morning, go in from the west this time.”

  Duval stroked his beard thoughtfully.

  “Are you ready for this?” Solomon asked.

  Duval cleared his throat, a little indignant. The question seemed improperly directed. “You know I’ve been ready, boss.” He nodded at Alexis. “Have you decided what we’re goin
g to do with this one?”

  Solomon squatted down to his captive. His corpse-like fingers brushed her chin which glowed pink where Duval had grabbed her. “We’re about to be very rich men with no need for stinking shacks and porridge. What do you think about that?”

  Alexis felt sick and then fire in her stomach. From nowhere the energy to rebel flared in her gut. She spit on his face. Solomon didn’t even flinch. He wiped her saliva from his cheek and brushed his hand against his pant leg. He turned slowly to Duval, a sly smile spreading over his face. Before Alexis could see, he’d cocked his hand and she felt the flat of his palm connect with her face with savage force. He sank forward, bringing his eyes just inches from her.

  “Be real careful, woman,” he snarled, his caustic breath filling her nose.

  Alexis writhed against the wall, and the binding cut fresh into the flaming welts on her wrists. Solomon snickered. He brought his hand to her throat and let his fingers encircle the soft skin. It was like holding the velvet petals of a beautiful flower in his palm. That he could simply crush her if he wanted excited him. He traced his fingers along the delicate fabric of her cotton button-up shirt which splayed open over her chest. “I have a good mind to teach you a lesson, woman,” Solomon unleashed his heavy breath in her ear. Alexis gagged.

  It had been too long since he felt the firm flesh of a woman beneath him. And even then the prostitutes whom had opened their legs for him could never look him in the eye without recoiling in disgust. Solomon eyed her for moment, his gaze intensifying as he breathed her in, felt the silkiness of her skin beneath his fingers. She was a burden, a liability. But he could not bring himself to dispose of her. Not just yet.

  Duval cleared his throat again. “We should get ready boss.”

  Solomon rose to face his partner, hunger still swirling his eyes.

  “What are you going to do?” said Alexis.

 

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