Darkness: Captain Riley II (The Captain Riley Adventures Book 2)

by Fernando Gamboa

  The two sailors immediately swam in that direction until they reached the bank. They used a network of roots and trunks sprouting from sticky mud to get a firm grip and scramble up.

  Afraid of being seen, neither of them said a word and instead just relied on the sound of the other’s breathing to keep track of one another as they entered the foliage.

  They hadn’t gotten even ten yards in when the sound of oars hitting the water came from the place they’d been a minute earlier.

  “Don’t move,” Riley whispered so quietly he barely heard it himself.

  Both of them stood completely still, clinging to their respective trunks like petrified chameleons.

  The sound of the oars stopped, some strange voices seemed to argue, and then there was the sound of a canoe hitting the roots on the shore.

  Riley couldn’t see anything in that impenetrable darkness, but his ear told him Jack was a short distance away to his right, still panting, and that several men had just gotten out of the canoe.

  One of the Mangbetu lit a small flame that went out as soon as several voices angrily urged him to put it out.

  It lasted only a moment, but it was enough for Riley to make out six ghostly shadows peering between the trees into the darkness. Two occupied the canoe and four walked on the ground, moving slowly and cautiously toward where he and Jack were.

  For a second he thought about running in the opposite direction, putting some distance between himself and the natives that had somehow followed their tracks in the water. But then he remembered Jack was with him too, and he would never abandon him.

  Moving would mean certain death for both of them, so he did the only thing he could and stayed completely still, avoiding making the slightest noise, while praying hard.

  As soon as that ephemeral flame went out, the darkness was absolute again. The white silhouettes dissolved into shadow as if they’d never been there. The sensation only became stronger when the natives stopped whispering or making any sound at all.

  It was then that Riley realized they weren’t pursuing. They were hunting.

  Since his sense of sight was useless, he strained his ears, trying to locate them by hearing, but all he could make out was Jack’s breathing and his own, like a hurricane whipping a window.

  A few yards ahead and to his left, he heard a slight whoosh like the sound a leaf would make as it fell and rubbed the bark of a tree.

  Then, silence.

  Then, to the right, not far from where Jack should be, a slight footstep sounded that very well could have come from an insect.

  These bastards are really sneaky, Riley thought.

  Then a nearly inaudible whisper on the edge of his perception, like the sigh of a mouse, came from somewhere right in front of him.

  Riley felt his heart pounding in his chest like cannon blasts. He was sure the hunters coming for them could hear it and were just playing with him to make their hunt more interesting.

  Saliva slowly accumulated in his throat, but any attempt to swallow it, however discreet, would be to risk revealing their position.

  Then he felt something start to climb his right leg—hundreds of small legs clinging to his bare skin.

  Riley clenched his teeth in a fight against the irresistible urge to swat the bug, which had quickly worked its way up his back and continued on toward his neck.

  He was so concentrated on it that the next sound he heard took him by surprise and almost made him jump.

  This time there was no doubt that it was a footstep. A footstep on the rotting leaves that covered the ground, but this time very close—maybe just over three feet away. Riley was sure if he reached out his arm, he’d be able to touch someone.

  The shadows were so dense that he decided to close his eyes to concentrate on the sounds more, since his sense of sight was useless.

  Saliva gathered in his throat a little more, causing a growing feeling of suffocation.

  The animal that climbed his back had reached his shoulders and was exploring the hairline along his neck, maliciously rummaging with its long, thin antennae. Riley’s need to scratch himself was almost unbearable.

  Then someone exhaled less than a foot from his face, and a puff of breath brushed his cheek.

  Riley held his breath.

  He slowly opened his eyes, imagining that he was going to see one of the natives staring at him from a few inches away.

  But no. It seemed impossible, but he would have seen the same thing if he were blindfolded.

  He remembered that it’d been nearly two weeks since he’d washed himself, and he probably smelled like a wet dog. At that distance he was sure the smell would give him away as much as if he’d started clapping his hands.

  Must be the mud, he thought. The mud he’d been forced to crawl through was apparently covering his scent. But he wondered if that would be enough.

  Then the breath turned into a series of quick inhalations through the nose.

  He was sniffing.

  The insect walked up his neck, digging its sharp legs into his skin and feeling with its antennae until it finally reached the top and dove into his hair as if feeling it’d found a good place to nest.

  Every second that Riley held his breath, the urge to breathe again became more pressing, and he knew that in a few seconds the moment would come when he couldn’t take it anymore.

  Suddenly, one of the natives who’d stayed in the canoe shouted something in Lingala.

  A powerful voice replied with the same tone, less than a foot from Riley’s ear, causing him to wince and strain not to cover his ears.

  The one in the canoe insisted, impatiently urging him on. The man next to Riley answered grumpily and sighed, then finally turned and seemed to order the others to do the same and stay close on their way back to the river.

  One of them, no more than three yards to the left, lit what appeared to be a lighter in order to reveal the path, which inadvertently exposed Riley still hugging the tree like a drunk on payday.

  If any of the cannibals, who now had their backs to them, had turned around, neither he nor Jack would have had the slightest chance of escape.

  When the Mangbetu were far enough away, Riley panted, spat, and tore that centipede that reeked of bitter almonds off his head. When the men got in the canoe and disappeared downriver, Riley even let himself cough outrageously out of spite.

  “What the hell are you doing?” Jack asked.

  “None of your business,” Riley answered.

  They walked toward the bank. “We barely made it out of that,” Jack said with fear in his voice. “One of the bastards was two yards away. You can’t imagine how horrible it was having him so close without being able to see him.”

  “I have an idea,” Riley murmured, searching his head for more bugs.

  Jack was going to ask what Riley meant, when he heard splashing a few yards away and getting closer. “Fuck,” he cursed. “Here they are again.”

  “Wait,” Riley said, holding him back. “Those are branches. It sounds like someone swimming.”

  They cautiously remained hidden until they realized it was a man swimming right in front of them.

  A blond man with light skin.

  49

  A few dozen yards ahead, they found a small clearing in the forest near the bank, where they could watch the river without being seen.

  “You look awful,” Jack said to Hudgens, who had blood running over his face onto what was left of his shirt.

  The commander glanced at Jack and Riley, each of them covered in mud from head to toe. “Yeah,” he said, “well, you should take a look in the mirror yourselves.”

  “How’d you manage to escape?” Riley asked.

  “Same as you. Jumping overboard,” he said. “As soon as I emptied the revolver, the natives jumped me before I could reload and gave me this.” He touched his forehead. “Luckily, I didn’t lose consciousness and managed to jump in the river shortly after you did.”

  “Did Verhoeven manage to
escape too?” Jack asked.

  Hudgens shook his head. “I heard him shout near the stairs. But then . . .” He tutted in annoyance. “And Carmen?” he asked Riley. “Is she . . . ?”

  “I don’t know,” Riley admitted, feeling a knot form in his stomach. “They hit her head and took her away. I haven’t seen her since.”

  “She must be alive,” Jack said, putting his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “If they wanted to kill her they would have done it then, they wouldn’t have kidnapped her.”

  “Maybe,” Riley admitted. “But don’t forget that they’re apparently cannibals.”

  “I doubt they’d hurt her,” Jack insisted. “I saw how Klein was looking at her during the dinner.”

  “Klein?” Hudgens asked, surprised. “You think Klein had something to do with what happened?”

  “Something?” Riley answered in a similar tone. “Everything is more like it. I have no doubt he was responsible.”

  “But why do something like that?” His voice was full of disbelief. “We gave him an unbelievable offer.”

  “Maybe the Germans’ was even better.”

  “I doubt it.”

  “He has no problem killing ninety percent of humanity,” Riley said. “Don’t expect him to follow the same logic as you.”

  “Also,” Jack added, “there’s Carmen. If he gets us out of the way nothing’s stopping him from keeping her.”

  That thought, which should have given Riley relief to know she was still alive, made him grimace.

  “Don’t make that face,” Jack said. “She’s a survivor, and smarter than you and I combined. If I had to bet who would make it out alive after all this, I’d put all my money on her.”

  Riley knew his second was right, but imagining her in the hands of that madman and his horde of cannibals was something he could hardly stand.

  “So,” Hudgens said pensively, “if this is Klein’s response to my proposal, we’ll have to make him come with us.”

  “You have to be joking,” Jack replied.

  “Not at all. The mission continues.”

  “Well, if you haven’t realized, he just kicked us the hell out. The mission’s over.”

  “I admit it’s a setback,” Hudgens said matter-of-factly, “but our priority is still to take Klein and all the data from his research we can.”

  “No, Commander,” Riley said. “That’s your priority. Mine is to get Carmen back. Are you with me, Jack?”

  The Galician sighed tiredly. “I knew you were going to say that.”

  “Then you already have an answer,” Riley countered.

  “Shit, of course. I can’t believe you’re even asking me.”

  “Thanks, friend.”

  “Yeah, yeah, you’re welcome. Do you have any idea how to do it?”

  “Not yet,” Riley admitted. “But I’m sure we’ll think of something.”

  “Wonderful. What could go wrong?”

  “Hold on,” Hudgens interrupted. “You’re not going to help with a mission that could save millions of lives but you will to save a . . . a . . .”

  “Watch it,” Riley warned.

  “Fuck!” the commander exploded. “Taking Klein could change the course of the war. Doesn’t that matter to you?”

  “Of course it does,” Riley said gravely. “That’s why, after saving Carmen, I’ll kill the bastard.”

  “Kill him?” Hudgens asked as if he didn’t understand the word. “Klein?” He paused to breathe. “But don’t you understand? We need him alive, damn it. He’s no good to us dead.”

  “No good to who?” Riley replied. “He’ll do a lot of good to me dead. How about you, Jack?”

  “With a bow? Wonderful gift,” Jack agreed.

  “Good God, I’m arguing with morons,” Hudgens muttered, desperate. “How can I make you understand that the national interest is more important than your juvenile desire for vengeance?”

  “We understand that perfectly well, don’t we, Jack?” Riley said. “But you’re terribly mistaken if you think I want to kill Klein for vengeance or because he’s a fucking psychopath. That’s not the reason. Or at least, not the most important one.”

  Hudgens waited a moment for an explanation, but seeing it wasn’t coming, he asked, “What is the reason then?”

  In the darkness Riley moved his face a few inches from Hudgens’s. “Because I don’t trust,” he whispered like it was a secret.

  Hudgens grew uneasy, partially because of how close Riley was and partly because of his words. “Who don’t you trust?” he asked.

  “I don’t trust anyone besides my friends,” he clarified. “But in particular I don’t trust any secret service, intelligence agency, or military branch.”

  “Not even your own country’s?” Hudgens asked, surprised.

  “Especially my own country’s,” he said coldly. “But above all I don’t trust you.”

  “So it’s that . . . ,” the commander murmured as if it explained everything. “It’s a personal matter between you and me.”

  “For the record,” Jack said, “I don’t like you too much either.”

  “Wrong again, Commander,” Riley said. “It’s that from the beginning you hid information from us and took us this far on half-lies and half-truths. You used me and my crew to carry out your plans. And above all,” he added, “I don’t want to put Klein under your care or that of any of the generals in Washington. I don’t trust anyone who’s thinking about trying what the Nazis did.”

  “Are you implying . . .” Hudgens was nearly stuttering in disbelief. “You think the government of the United States wants to use that virus on the population?”

  “It’s not a question of what I think,” he said, “but whether or not I want to give them that chance, however unlikely it may be.”

  “But that’s not your decision to make.”

  “Maybe not,” he admitted, “but we’re still going to make it.” He turned to Jack. “Isn’t that right?”

  “At least we’ll try,” he confirmed.

  “There you have it,” Riley said. “We’re the majority. Now we just need to know whose side you’re on, Commander.”

  “What you’re doing,” he hissed through clenched teeth, “is an act of treason.” Hudgens’s voice was a plea and a threat. “If you get back to the US, you’ll be judged in a court-martial and hanged. They’ll hang you. Both of you.”

  “We’ll take that risk,” Riley said as if it were unimportant. “But tell me, Commander, what are you going to do? Are you going to help us rescue Carmen and kill Klein?”

  “Do I have a choice?”

  “Of course. You can stay sitting here and watch them make sausage out of me and Jack and then go talk to Klein and try to convince him while they riddle you with spears.”

  Hudgens took some time before he answered. “Give me your word that we’ll destroy Klein’s laboratory so it doesn’t fall into anyone else’s hands.”

  “That’s third on the list,” Riley agreed.

  “Do you have any idea how we’re going to do it? We’re completely disarmed, and I don’t even have shoes.”

  “What about your gun?” Jack asked. “Do you still have it?”

  “It’s here,” Hudgens replied, patting the hilt. “But the problem is ammo. All the bullets are wet.”

  “How many do you have left?”

  “Eight,” he said, “though with wet gunpowder it’s like having none. They won’t work unless they’re dry, and even then, probably only half.”

  “We could shoot them and then ask them to give them back,” Jack suggested.

  “Very funny.”

  “Well, we’ll have to make do with what we have,” Riley said. “In any case, four bullets more or less aren’t going to make a difference.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean that whatever we do,” he explained, “it should be without a direct confrontation. Go in, get Carmen, kill Klein, destroy his laboratory, and leave before anyone realizes what happe
ned.”

  “Get in and get out,” Jack summarized with a resigned smile. “Piece of cake.”

  Hudgens shook his head in disbelief. “You guys aren’t right in the head.”

  “Fortune favors the bold,” Riley said.

  “That’s not boldness,” Hudgens objected. “It’s stupidity. Klein knows we escaped and will be waiting for us with a bunch of natives around him. His house must be better guarded than Fort Knox.”

  “Well, that’s why we can surprise him.”

  “What?”

  “Think about it, Commander. He knows we know he’s waiting for us, so he won’t expect us to do what we shouldn’t do.”

  “What?” he repeated, raising his eyebrows.

  “Let me explain it another way,” Jack said. “The three of us trying to attack a house guarded by a bunch of cannibals unarmed is stupid, right?”

  “Completely,” Hudgens said.

  “Well, that’s why we’ll do it,” he concluded. “Because they wouldn’t expect us to be so stupid.”

  Hudgens looked at them without saying anything. “So that’s the plan. Do the stupidest thing we can think of?”

  “More or less,” Riley admitted.

  “I can’t believe it.”

  “He won’t either. That’s the funny thing.”

  Hudgens was so bewildered he didn’t know what to say. “It won’t work,” he said finally. “You know that, right? I can think of a dozen ways it could all go wrong.”

  “I agree,” Riley admitted, suddenly serious, “and I’m sure all my reasons are different. But we still have to do it.” He paused and added solemnly, “Can we count on you, Commander?”

  Hudgens took a moment to think about it and finally nodded. A few seconds later he realized they couldn’t see it. “I’m with you.” He sighed unenthusiastically. “In any case, whatever we do, I don’t think we’ll survive the night.”

  “Speaking of the night,” Riley said. “There’s less than three hours till dawn. We should get moving.”

  Hudgens looked at his dark outline, not understanding. “You’re not implying that we act now.”

  “That’s exactly what I mean,” he said, standing up.