Into the Darkness

by Margaret Daley

  Before going inside, she reached to take back her machete.

  He pulled it away from her grasp. “I think I’d better keep this. I wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself before we even leave.”

  She frowned. “Protecting your investment?”

  Hard eyes without an ounce of humor in them bored into her. “Right. I’m glad we understand each other.”

  She straightened, squaring her shoulders and tilting up her chin. “Mr. Slader, we will never understand each other.”

  “Good night, lady.”

  As she closed her door, she realized any easing of the tension between them had vanished.

  Lord, I’m going to need a lot of patience to make it through the next few weeks, and You know patience isn’t one of my strengths.

  * * *

  The sun barely peeked over the trees on the horizon and already, rivulets of perspiration streamed down Kate’s face—her entire body. She glanced down at the khaki pants and white, long-sleeved cotton shirt she wore and wondered how long they would last before they were stained, dirty and smelly. Maybe an hour if she was lucky.

  Kate hurried to keep up with Mr. Slader as he threaded his way through the throng at the docks along the Zingu River. Where had all these people come from? She supposed they did their trading and whatever else they needed to do before noon and the real heat set in. Mandras was really the last bit of civilization before a vast wilderness of jungle.

  Three men coming out of nowhere separated her and Mr. Slader. The nearest one leered at her, and she quickened her pace to get around the group and find Mr. Slader. As she took a step to the side, the man did, too, now smiling at her in a way that made her skin crawl. He reeked of alcohol and sweat, and he hadn’t shaved in days. In fact, from the deep circles under his eyes, she didn’t think he had slept the night before. Kate tried sidling the other way. He mirrored her movements, his smile growing. One of his buddies came up behind her, trapping her between them. Then the other companion joined them.

  The men towered over her, blocking her view of her surroundings, of Mr. Slader. Where was her knight in shining armor? He was neglecting his investment—her, she thought with dread nibbling at the edges of her mind.

  Adjusting the heavy blue backpack she carried, she drew up as tall as possible, which sadly wasn’t very tall, and said in her toughest voice, “Excuse me. I’m late.” She winced at the squeak on the end of the last word, totally wiping away the effect she wanted to present to these bullies.

  The man in front of her laughed, a gleam appearing in his eyes as though he had spotted a prey and was deciding how best to dispatch it.

  Just because they were at the ends of the earth didn’t mean men couldn’t be gentlemen! Bristling now, she thought about shoving her way through the unwelcome admirers, but she didn’t dare touch one. She cringed at the thought of all the germs on their clothes, which didn’t seem to have been washed in months. One of the ruffians chewed on something then spit it out—right at her feet! She shook with fear and anger. Her stomach rolled at the sight of brown juice dribbling down his chin.

  “Mr. Slader,” she finally decided to shout. She swallowed the word help, hoping he heard her cry and came without calling any more attention to herself.

  One man went flying to the side. The other two turned toward the threat. Mr. Slader appeared, and relief skimmed up her spine for all of a second before she realized the ruffians were bigger and meaner looking than Mr. Slader, which she hadn’t thought possible. Even she knew two against one was not good odds.

  Mr. Slader said something to the first man who had approached her. Kate tensed, expecting fists to fly. Instead, the man roared with laughter, glancing her way. Shaking his head, he strolled away with his two buddies.

  Her jaw dropped.

  Mr. Slader came up to her and tapped her under her chin to close her mouth. “This place is teeming with insects, most of them not very tasty unless you’re really desperate and hungry.”

  She blushed, the heat of embarrassment scorching her worse than the sun’s rays. “Friends, Mr. Slader?”

  “As a matter of fact, yes.”

  “Do all your friends accost women when they meet them?”

  “You have to admit, it’s rare to have a woman like you here in Mandras.”

  “A woman like me?” The second the question was out of her mouth she wished she could take it back. She already knew his opinion of the type of woman she was.

  He leaned close, only a few inches away, and inhaled a deep breath. “One who smells of roses with skin so white it’s a shame it’ll be blistered from the sun in less than a day.”

  “I’ve brought sunscreen with fifty SPF, which, thankfully, wasn’t ruined by the intruder the other night. Perhaps in these backwaters you haven’t heard of sunscreen.”

  She stepped around him, to head for their boat and put an end to the conversation. But with the crowd and all the different vessels docked at the pier, she didn’t know which one hers was. She had to stop and wait for Mr. Slader. Patience, Kate.

  He ambled by her, winked, and made his way toward a craft at the far end of the floating dock. “Where’s your truckload of sunscreen? Because, lady, that’s what you’re gonna need with that fair skin of yours.”

  She thought about her three-bottle supply that she’d tried to cram into her blue backpack. She had finally sacrificed a third set of clothing in order to bring them along on the trip. “I did the calculations. Three bottles should last me a month.”

  He chuckled, tossing her a glance over his shoulder. “Have you calculated in all the sweating you’ll do? You’ll have to reapply at best about once an hour.”

  “Well?” She frowned. Had she? Not really. “I’ll worry about that when I run out. Besides, I read the rainforest is often dark with little sun.”

  “True, but our first couple of days will be on the river. All sun. And as you can see,” he waved his hand toward the ten-foot boat, open with no cover, “there isn’t a lot of shade for you to hide under.”

  She stiffened. “I don’t hide.”

  “I’ll remember that the first time you see a snake.”

  Lord, I know there are a lot of snakes in the jungle. Please protect me from them and help me with my patience. Mr. Slader has already tested it several times today, and we haven’t even left the pier.

  Bolstered by her faith, she lifted her chin and walked past Mr. Slader. “I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me. Worry about yourself.”

  “Myself? I know I’m gonna regret asking why.”

  “The Lord is with me. Is He with you?”

  “Lady, He abandoned me a long time ago.” A scowl accompanied his words.

  “I beg to differ. God never abandons someone. You abandoned Him.”

  With as much dignity as she could muster in one-hundred-percent humidity and heat nearing eighty, she shrugged off her backpack, gripped a post and lowered herself into their craft, a large canoe that would accommodate four people and their supplies—barely. The boat rocked, and she quickly clasped the edge of the pier.

  “Please hand me my pack, Mr. Slader.”

  When she said the word mister, his brows slashed downward, and his mouth thinned into a hard line.

  Before she had a chance to sit, he tossed her backpack to her. Her arms automatically came up to trap it against her chest, but its twenty-pound weight threw her off balance, the air whooshing from her lungs. She teetered, her hands clutching the pack so she couldn’t catch herself. The brown water loomed before her as she tilted sideways.

  A strong grasp locked about one arm and steadied her. For the few seconds Mr. Slader touched her, the brand of his fingers wiped the sounds and smells of her surroundings from her mind. When he released her, she sank down onto the bench, her whole body quavering. She wanted to attribute her reaction to her near dunking in the dirty brown river to her reaction, but she couldn’t.

  She didn’t dare look at him. She didn’t want to see his smirk, or the “I told you so�
�� look in his eyes. Instead, she busied herself securing her backpack next to her while he and the two porters loaded the rest of what they were going to take.

  Digging into her pack, Kate withdrew a bottle of sunscreen and a white hat with a wide brim, the only shade she would have on the long journey. She plopped the hat onto her head and slathered the lotion on every exposed part of her body. When she finished, she put the bottle back in her bag and pulled out a handkerchief, then zipped up the backpack.

  She was ready to go. With a sigh she folded her hands in her lap, clutching the cloth, and looked up. The amused expression in Mr. Slader’s eyes pushed her anger button.

  “I suppose you’re all set now?” he asked, positioning himself in front of her on a bench with one porter at the back and the other at the front.

  “Yes, as a matter of fact, I am.”

  Grasping a paddle, Mr. Slader said something to the Indian porters, who each untied the large canoe from the dock and pushed off. The craft headed out into the middle of the river. Kate glanced back at the last bit of civilization she would see for a while. A man emerged from a group of men, his focus trained on her. Tingles of fear shimmied down her when she recognized him—Slick! And he was way too close for her peace of mind. Even from a distance she could feel the waves of animosity coming off him, all directed at her.

  She quickly twisted forward and was greeted with Mr. Slader’s broad back, his muscles rippling beneath the white cotton of his shirt as he stroked the water with his paddle. While she wasn’t in top physical shape, it was evident he was. This was the view she would have to endure the whole trip on the river. A groan escaped her lips.

  Slader peered over his shoulder. “Already having second thoughts?”

  “No.” She sat up as straight as possible on the bench. “Did you see Slick back at the dock looking at us?”

  He nodded and resumed his position, facing forward.

  Of course, Mr. Slader had seen Slick. He was aware of everything going on around him. That thought comforted her as she settled in for the long trip.

  She dabbed at her face and neck with her handkerchief and stared at the green line of foliage along the riverbank, in stark contrast to the milky brown of the water and the whitish blue of the sky. A bright-colored macaw perched in the upper branch of an unfamiliar tree. The bird’s red and yellow markings drew her attention. It lifted off and took flight, its squawking heard above all the other sounds. Then she saw a black monkey with a long tail and long arms swing from one limb to another, its movement graceful. There was beauty here. Kate decided it might not be so bad after all, especially if she could ignore Mr. Slader as much as possible and look upon this as an adventure that she could tell everyone when she got back to Red Creek.

  Removing her pieced-together Bible from her backpack, she opened it to the beginning of the book of Acts and began to read to help pass the time. If she was lucky, she would have a lot of time to study the Lord’s word while on this adventure—a bonus she hadn’t thought about before they’d set off.

  Kate had read through a third of the book of Acts when Mr. Slader turned and handed her a paddle. “What’s this for?” she asked.

  “It helps move the boat from one point to another, and because the current is strong here, we need everyone to help and that includes you, lady.”

  His emphasis on the word lady, accompanied by a scowl, scattered any calm she’d gathered while reading her Bible. Gripping the book, she unzipped her backpack and carefully tucked it away to read later.

  “Remember when we were buying the supplies, you bought your own machete. You said you would do everything I did, that you would carry your own weight. Well, I’m calling you on it.” Mr. Slader turned back to paddling.

  The sound of his oar slicing through the water competed with the noises from the jungle on both sides of Kate—the different calls of birds, the chirping of insects. While reading she’d managed to block the sounds from her mind, but now she heard above the birds and insects a distant rumble. “What’s that?”

  “The waterfall up ahead.”

  Clasping the paddle, Kate dipped it into the brownish murk floating by them. The force of the current almost snatched it from her grasp. She tightened her hold and put all her strength behind it, which she was discovering wasn’t much. “Waterfall? Are there many on this river?”

  “A few.”

  The porter in front, named Pedro, said something to Mr. Slader. The other behind Kate, called Miguel, made a comment, too. Mr. Slader chuckled.

  “Why do I get the feeling I am being discussed?” Kate strengthened her hold on the oar, the muscles in her arms quivering from her efforts. Now more than ever, she regretted her inability to pick up foreign languages fast.

  “Because you are. Pedro wondered how long you would last paddling, and Miguel said, from the looks of your grip, not long.”

  “What’s wrong with my grip?”

  “Don’t fight the water. Go with the flow as much as possible.”

  “But we’re going upstream. That’s kind of hard to do, especially right now.”

  “Still, you’re wasting a lot of energy gripping the paddle too tightly. Ease up.”

  “But what if I lose it?”

  “Then you can dive in and get it.”

  The humor in his voice irked her, especially since she’d only recently learned to swim. She would somehow manage to paddle and retain her hold for as long as needed. She’d put a positive spin on this. She’d think of all the pounds she would lose on this trip. She’d been wanting to go on a diet before the holidays because she knew she would eat a lot more between Thanksgiving and Christmas, so this would work out great. There! She felt so much better.

  The euphoria lasted ten measly minutes. That was when Kate barely managed to lift the oar out of the water, let alone paddle. With a shallow gasp, she pulled it into the boat and laid it across her lap.

  Slader glanced back at her.

  “I’m not quitting, just resting for a few minutes,” she said.

  “We’re nearly to the waterfall so wait until we go around it, then you can pick up paddling again. The current is strong in this part of the river.”

  She heard the amusement in his voice and almost took up her paddle for something far worse—something a good Christian shouldn’t even consider. She was trying to do the right thing, but he wasn’t making it easy. She needed that dose of patience—and fast.

  The roar of the waterfall completely obliterated the other sounds of the jungle as they neared it. The water became rougher and for once she saw the wisdom in doing as Mr. Slader said. Watching him struggle to paddle underscored how difficult it really was, because she had to acknowledge that the man was in good physical condition. He had been laboring for two hours and hadn’t taken a break once. The only indication the heat was even bothering him was that his white cotton shirt was soaked across his broad back, which only emphasized his muscular shoulders and upper torso.

  Kate found her clothes totally drenched with her perspiration. She might as well go into the river as wet as she was. But then she remembered all the animals that lurked beneath the water’s surface, and she shuddered.

  Pedro shouted something, pointing at a spot in front of the canoe.

  Mr. Slader immediately paddled hard to the left. With hers in her hand, Kate lifted herself up a few inches to see what the problem was. Her actions sent the craft rocking and the churning water lifted and dropped the canoe. Her gaze glued to several massive tree trunks in the river, she became paralyzed for a few seconds.

  But doing nothing was an even bigger mistake. The sudden change of course coupled with the rough water threw her balance off. She started to fall forward toward Mr. Slader. Quickly, she tried to catch herself, forgetting that she grasped the paddle. It dropped into the water. She lurched for it, her fingers almost clasping onto it. But with her body too far over the edge of the canoe, Kate tumbled into the river, plunging headfirst into its warm, murky depths. She opened her
mouth to scream and swallowed a mouthful of the dirty water.

  Chapter Five

  Slader heard the splash behind him. Even before Miguel said anything, Slader knew that Kate had managed to go overboard. Now he would have to get wet to rescue her. And it wasn’t even noon yet.

  Shouting a few orders to Pedro and Miguel, he threw his paddle down onto the bottom of the canoe then slipped his tennis shoes and ball cap off while twisting about to see where Kate was. When he didn’t see her emerge, worry began to knot his stomach muscles.

  He dove into the river where he thought she had gone under, barely missing one of the tree trunks that floated by. Searching the cloudy water, he couldn’t see or feel her. He shot up to the surface to look around, hoping that Kate had managed to come up.

  * * *

  The water swirled about Kate. With a hard kick, she tried to swim upward.

  Something snagged her shirt. She couldn’t tell what it was. She couldn’t see past a few inches in front of her. She tugged on her shirt in an attempt to free herself. It wouldn’t budge!

  Panic seized her as tightly as whatever had hold of her. Her lungs burned. Water roared in her ears. Yanking again, she clasped the cotton material where it was caught and tried to rip it loose. She couldn’t!

  Trapped in a world of dark, muddy water, its taste making her stomach roil, Kate fought not to surrender to the black hole waiting to swallow her.

  Lord, help.

  * * *

  For the third time after checking to see if Kate had emerged from the river’s hold, Slader plunged back down into its depths, making a sweep with his arms as he searched the area. He had started back toward the surface when he felt his foot touch something soft. Even though there was little oxygen left in his lungs, he didn’t dare go up for air then come back down.