Primitive Nights

by Candi Wall

  It had taken longer than he had hoped and traveling the river at night made him nervous. Now that Myla and sickness had bridged a tentative peace with the Hountas, there was little more than the rapids to concern him. Before the next section of hard water, he planned to stop and camp for the night.

  He glanced across to Seiret’s canoe. His mother slept as well. At her advanced years, the traveling would be difficult. Mindful of her weakness, he tried to keep the pace slower than he would have liked, and still her exhaustion showed less than midway through the day.

  Seiret called out quietly. “Will we stop or travel on with the moon?”

  Damon pointed to a small inlet ahead. “There.”

  The other canoe sliced across the water and slid into the small cove. Seiret jumped from his boat and walked over when Damon came close. “The women are tired. Your mother did well.”

  “Yes, they both showed great resilience today.” He clapped Seiret on the shoulder. “But you must be worn as well. Sleep first. I will watch over us for now.”

  The other man’s exhaustion was evident in the slow drag of his feet through the water. He collapsed on the rocky shore and pillowed his arms under his head. Within moments, Damon could see the slow rise and fall of his chest.

  After securing the canoes, he let the women remain sleeping and sat down on a large boulder. There was nowhere better for them to rest, and in case they had to make a quick departure, they would already be prepared to go.

  Leaning back, he looked up at the sky. Millions of small stars shone down around the moon. Bright flashes arced across the sky to disappear over the trees, and he wondered where those stars went. Did they fizzle out, or find a new place to rest?

  Like his tribe. His people would start the journey to their new home as soon as those remaining were well enough to travel. Seiret and his mother had returned from the Hountas with devastating news of innumerable deaths there as well. He hoped Bajluk Hounta would agree to move. Enemy or not, the Hountas would die if they remained.

  With the loss of so many in each of their tribes, Damon hoped for a new alliance.

  “What are you doing, Damon?”

  Damon hurried over to where Myla called out to him. “Sleep. We have stopped for the night.”

  She sat up in the canoe and looked around. “How far do we have left to travel?”

  “Several hours still.”

  “Damon, that won’t work.” She grabbed his hand. “If you insist that I can’t go alone, then we have to arrive while it’s dark. That’s the only way I will be able to get you to my home without attracting too much attention.”

  “We will wait.” Her concern was valid. Not enough to alter his choice. “Decisions can be made when we arrive.”

  If there were more men waiting to harm Myla, he would take every precaution to keep her safe.

  “Aren’t you tired?” She stifled a yawn with the back of her hand.

  Brushing her hair back from her face, he ran his knuckles over her cheek. “I will rest later while Seiret watches over us. Sleep now. The waters will be rough tomorrow. You will need your strength again.”

  “I’m not the one who does all the work.” Her lips turned up in a small smile as she pushed up from the canoe. “Come over here and sit. I want to do something for you.”

  He walked over and sat where she indicated. The rocky shore was hard beneath him and he shifted for a moment to find a comfortable position. When her hands moved over the tight muscles in his shoulders, he leaned back against the rock behind him.

  Her soft voice whispered over his ear. “This is a massage. It will loosen the muscles that have been strained by the physical exertions you put them through today.”

  With the way her fingers worked over the lines of his neck, shoulders and arms, he did not care what it was called, so long as she kept doing it. “It feels very good.”

  The pressure of her fingers working over each tight, sore muscle relaxed him. Silence ensued around them. There was nothing but the rushing of the water. “Why did you tell me that story, Damon?”

  He reached up to stall her hands and pulled her around before him. “Come sit with me.”

  She knelt down, and he brought her into his lap. “You do not see anything past what your world has taught you. The way you live has jaded you to the possibilities that come from making your own choices and believing in something higher than yourself.”

  “I believe in God and the path that is laid out for me. If it is meant to be, then it will be.”

  “And do you believe that we were put together, to feel what we feel, and share what we have shared, for this short time only? Or is it possible, we must find a way to be together?”

  She shrugged before nestling into his arms. “I don’t know. My heart says it is possible, but my head—when I think of what each of us would have to sacrifice. It seems like too much. I only know that I will miss you.”

  He pulled her closer, burying his nose in her soft hair. “Sleep, Myla. We will see where our paths take us.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Myla ducked low behind the hedge bordering the small house. It was nearly dark, and if she didn’t hurry, Damon would come crashing out of the trees to find her.

  The old lady finally made her way back inside, and Myla reached up to snatch a pair of jeans and a shirt from the clothesline. They looked close to Damon’s size. Even if they weren’t, they would have to do for now. A blue dress hung closer to the house. Perfect for Michelle.

  Stealing clothes from the elderly. She’d sunk to an all-time low. Ignoring the pangs of guilt, she grabbed the clothes and ran for the cover of the trees.

  She made a fair thief. At least physically. The mental guilt police would force her to pay the people back somehow.

  Damon chuckled when she dropped the garments at his feet a few minutes later. “You did well, Myla.”

  She smiled, trying to slow her breathing. “Get dressed.” After scooping up the dress, she walked over to Michelle. “Here. I hope it will fit relatively well.”

  Michelle took the dress. “Go help Damon. He’ll be an hour if left to his own. I’ll change over there.”

  Myla turned back to find Damon holding the jeans up, eyebrows furrowed. It was difficult not to laugh at his confusion. “Put your legs through these holes, then button the top like mine.”

  Seiret chuckled and slapped him on the shoulder before walking away. Damon slipped his sarong free and held the jeans out. He stood perfectly naked, without embarrassment, his expression doubtful. “Is this necessary?”

  “I’m afraid so.” She moved closer, unable to keep her eyes off him. “Put them on, then I’ll help you with your shirt.”

  He did, cringing as the coarse fabric slid higher on his legs. “I do not like this.”

  This time, she couldn’t control a little laugh. “No, I don’t suppose you do.”

  When he finally pulled them up to his hips, she laughed. The jeans sagged around his trim waist by four inches. She slipped the button into place for him. “You only have to wear them until we can find a place to stay for the night. As soon as we have a room, you can strip down to nothing again.”

  She picked the shirt up and held it open. He eyed the garment with disdain but held out his arms so she could slip it on for him. “This is not as bad as the leg coverings.”

  She moved to stand in front of him and buttoned the shirt, hoping he didn’t notice the way her fingers shook. In a few moments, they would leave the safety of the jungle. The thought jarred her. When had his world become the safe place? Smoothing her fingers over the fabric, she forced a smile. “You look very handsome. Let’s see if your mother is ready.”

  He walked awkwardly for the first few minutes and stopped several times to adjust himself. Michelle met them a moment later, and with modern clothing, she looked very much the everyday woman.

  Myla glanced at both of them. “You have to do exactly as I say, no matter what.”

  Damon smiled. “You are the
boss?”

  With a quick wave to Seiret, who would stay with the canoes, she nodded. “That’s right. Now let’s go.”

  Damon paced.

  First her cramped apartment, now the small room Myla said they needed to stay in until they could meet with her council. Too much information and new knowledge jumbled around inside his head. He had names and actual objects to all the descriptions his mother had given him over the years. Nothing felt right, nothing felt safe or normal. His nerves were on alert.

  He closed his eyes and lay back on the bed. There was too much to see. Too much to learn and discover. If he was not careful, this bed would swallow him. He had never encountered anything so soft.

  Mother had left to find food, and Myla was in a smaller room where water sprayed from the wall. A shower, if he recalled correctly. Inside that same room, was the toilet, which Myla had explained was used when he needed to relieve himself. The sound and disappearance of the water had intrigued him, but Myla had not shared his enthusiasm with the odd contraption.

  She had yet to become frustrated with him or his constant inquiries. He tried to quell his excitement and asked his mother numerous questions as well, hoping not to bother Myla. The strain of worry was beginning to show in the dark circles beneath her eyes and the scored furrow at her brow.

  He looked around the room again. Myla’s computer sat on a table near the window. A long, black rope attached it to the wall, and the contraption kept making strange noises. Along the other wall was a large box with numerous buttons. Myla had said it was the TV, and he was highly curious.

  He sat up. She had said to push the button. He crossed the room—but which one? There were too many. He pushed several. Nothing happened. The box clicked after numerous tries, then a bright blue light appeared across the front.

  He was about to press another when the water in the other room shut off. He sat on the edge of the bed and waited, running his hands over the cloth covering his legs. Since it would be necessary to wear clothing for several days, he had decided not to take them off yet. It would help his discomfort to try to get used to them.

  Though he found it hard to imagine ever enjoying the clothes.

  Myla stepped into the room. “Hey. What are you doing?”

  He shrugged. “I was going to see the TV, but it took forever for me to produce this blue light.”

  She had a towel wrapped around her head and another around her body. The end of the towel barely covered the curve of her bottom as she walked to the TV, presenting a much better view than anything he might see on the box.

  “I’m not sure what will be on.” She chuckled then and turned to smile back at him. “Not that you will care anyway.”

  “Come here, Myla.”

  Color rose in her cheeks and she shook her head. “I—I don’t think that is a good idea.”

  His body responded to her too quickly and he had to shift. It was a problem he would need to control. Especially while his body was trapped with cloth. “Why not?”

  “Because you look ready to attack me.”

  He stood and crossed the room to her, wrapping his arms around her back to pull her close. The towel tucked between her breasts slipped free with a slight tug. “I am.”

  “No, no, no you’re not.” She turned out of his arms and moved to the far side of the room, pointing her finger at him while she held the towel in front of her naked body. “You stay back. Your mother will be back anytime, and I don’t want to be caught—well—doing the things you’re thinking about doing.”

  Her scowl was endearing. “She is a woman who had a child. Do you not think she knows how these things are done?”

  “It doesn’t matter. Now, let me get dressed and we can talk about what will happen in the morning.”

  “I still think what I wanted to do would be more fun.”

  Hundreds of e-mails.

  How was it possible to have so many unimportant e-mails filling her inbox, when she’d only been gone for two weeks? How the hell was she supposed to find any information when she had to sift through every single one to make sure she didn’t delete anything important?

  Myla leaned back against her chair. Damon and Michelle slept peacefully. While Michelle had opted to sleep on the bed, Damon had refused, fearing he would sink into the mattress. Instead, he’d spread out on the floor.

  His long body took up a good portion of the floor. He’d removed his clothes and only the bottom half of his body was covered by the thin sheet draped over his hips. Strands of his dark hair curled over his muscled arms where they served as a pillow. The urge to crawl under the sheet with him nearly brought her to her feet.

  No. There was no time for that. Turning back to the computer, she pressed her fingers to her eyes. Concentrate. After a long, deep breath, she refocused on the e-mails. There had to be something here, and she was going to find it.

  Seventy-two e-mails from InterCorp. She stared at the list of files she’d separated into another folder. Any one of them might be something she’d forwarded to herself. The addresses were different ones, though, all from InterCorp since she’d often had to use any computer she could find to send herself documents.

  The proof was there somewhere. Clicking them open, she scanned the subjects, closing the ones she hadn’t sent and minimizing the ones she had. She included the e-mails that contained encrypted files or had odd addresses she didn’t recognize. By the time she’d categorized seventy-two of them into what she hoped was level of importance, the sun cast the first pale ribbons across the horizon. An hour, maybe two before daylight.

  She wasn’t looking forward to the day ahead. So much hung in the balance. A simple humanitarian mission had cost her more than she’d ever expected, starting with John’s death and now ending with her loss of Damon.

  At least Damon and his people would be safe. That was her only concern. To go on with the knowledge that the tribe would be protected from further atrocities, that they would have medical care and still maintain their way of life was more than she had ever hoped. If the Hountas agreed to move as well, it would be even better.

  Then what would she do? E.I. had agencies all over the world. She could choose any location. They were always looking for more help. Clicking through the e-mails again, she sighed. Or maybe her stint as a humanitarian had run its course. Maybe it was time to go home. Her heart couldn’t take this kind of blow ever again. Not that she’d ever meet someone like Damon again.

  The young girl she’d been when she left had disappeared under the harsh realities of the world outside her little hometown. Would she be able to handle the hustle and bustle, the gossip and weekend barbeques? The ever-present memories of her father’s hatefulness?

  Somehow, she didn’t think so. She’d become accustomed to the quiet serenity of this country. She didn’t know where she fit right now.

  Rubbing at her eyes, she moved the cursor down the page and tried to concentrate. What she needed was a huge chocolate bar and a soda. Both would ruin her diet, but after her trek in the jungle, she could spoil herself a little. She smiled at the thought and sent another e-mail to the junk folder. This was getting ridiculous.

  Thirteen e-mails later, tossing the computer out the window looked like the best solution. She opened one of the encrypted files and typed in her code. “Finally.”

  She clapped a hand over her mouth. She hadn’t meant to say that so loud. Both Damon and Michelle remained sleeping, and she leaned her elbows against the table to read the file. It was one of the last ones she’d sent herself. Ironic, since the computer she’d used to send it belonged to the vice president of InterCorp Oil.

  He was one of the only people in the entire company who seemed concerned with the impact oil drilling and scouting the land had on the natives. In his time, Albert Harrison had butted heads continuously with the president and board members of InterCorp over their drilling practices. Unfortunately, it hadn’t done much good.

  She’d liked the man instantly, and after using his co
mputer to send herself proof of the illegal activities of his company, she’d felt guilty. Now, she was damn glad she hadn’t let her conscience get in the way.

  This was what she needed.

  The adrenaline rush produced the energy she needed, and twenty minutes later, four more files were recovered and saved. After sending a detailed report to Emily Smith, the one woman inside E.I. she knew could be trusted, she closed the computer and sat back with a smile. It was all ready. As soon as Emily got back to her, she would take Damon and Michelle to Endurance’s main office.

  She’d also requested Emily to contact the proper officials in the government and attached a copy of the files so Emily would know what they were dealing with. But Myla had every intention of being present. She, along with Damon and his mother, would be able to give their own testimony.

  Pushing up from the chair, she crossed her arms and stared out the window. There was only a little time before she would need to wake Damon. Once their day started in earnest, there would be no time for them. And when the day was done, it was entirely possible he would be leaving.

  “Have you found what you were looking for?”

  The soft baritone of his voice didn’t startle her. His voice belonged near her. She nodded. “I did.”

  He moved behind her, the strong warmth of his arms wrapping around her to pull her back against his solid chest. Everything about him screamed safety. “When must we leave?”

  She swallowed hard to alleviate the tightness in her throat. Oh, how she wanted to say never… “As soon as I hear back from my friend at E.I.”

  They stood in silence for a while. The sun moved close enough to the horizon to turn the sky a mottled gray. Crimson and burnt sienna streaked up from the edge of the land, changing into brilliant shades of gold and amber. It filtered through the trees, casting long shadows out over the land.