Into the Darkness

by Margaret Daley

  Fighting the current to keep from being whisked away from the spot, he felt around for what his foot had connected with. Then when he didn’t think he could hold his breath a second longer, he grasped Kate’s arm. He pulled on it. She didn’t move.

  Going deeper, he found where she was ensnared on a submerged log. Prying with all the strength he had left and then some, he freed her and dragged her upward, his chest on fire. Fear took hold of him. Kate was limp in his grasp, not fighting him.

  He broke the surface, hauling her up into the fresh air. Peering at her closed eyes, he realized he had to get her to shore and try to revive her. If he had a breath left in him, he was not going to bury another woman out here in the jungle.

  Securing her to him, he swam toward the riverbank, tiring with each stroke. Another large log raced toward him. He increased his speed, desperate to avoid it. His limbs burned and quivered with the effort. The shore loomed before him. Ten yards. Five.

  Finally, after what seemed an eternity, his feet touched the bottom, and he pulled himself up, the water flowing rapidly around his waist. With his limbs still trembling, he bent and heaved Kate up into his arms and trudged toward a small opening in the sea of green flora along the bank. Every muscle in his body protested.

  Dropping to his knees, depleted of all energy, he collapsed with Kate to the jungle floor. The jolt caused water to spew from her mouth, and she began to cough. Her eyes popped open. She turned to her side and continued to cough up the river.

  Slader lay on the ground next to her, staring up at the ceiling of green and blue, listening to her. The remnant of his fear mingled with his weariness, and for the life of him he couldn’t move an inch. Sucking in deep breaths, he replenished his oxygen-deprived lungs.

  Pedro and Miguel brought the canoe to the shore and tied it to a protruding log a few feet away. They stayed in the boat because the small opening in the jungle was only big enough for him and Kate. He finally assessed his surroundings as her coughing calmed. On three sides, the rainforest hemmed them in. He knew of the many possible dangers that could be behind that wall of green. They needed to get out of there.

  Shoving himself to a sitting position, Slader looked at her—nothing of the Miss Prim and Proper evident at the moment. She lay curled into a ball, her chin resting on her chest, her arms hugging herself. Her pale skin held an ashen cast to it, almost obliterating a strip of pink across the top of her cheeks and nose.

  “We’re going back,” he said, his voice raw.

  * * *

  Through the pure exhaustion and pain, Kate heard Mr. Slader’s words and squeezed her eyes closed for a few seconds while she gathered what strength she had left to answer him. Unfolding her body, she pushed up, her back flat against a tangle of green vines. She didn’t feel tough at the moment, but she had to be in order to convince Mr. Slader to continue up the river.

  “No. The only place I’m going is forward.” She met his pinpoint look with all the determination she could muster.

  “We haven’t been gone from Mandras even three hours and already we have run into a problem, or rather, you have run into a problem. This does not bode well for the trip.”

  The steel in his voice drilled his decisiveness into her. She automatically backed up, but the brush stopped her.

  “You could have died out there in that river. I was lucky I found you.”

  “But you did find me. It was God’s will. I’m not going to die until it’s my time. Then nothing I do or do not do will stop it from happening.”

  “So with that kind of thinking, you could jump off a cliff with no second thoughts because you wouldn’t die unless you were meant to?”

  “I’m not stupid or suicidal.”

  He arched a brow. “You aren’t?”

  Anger boiled to the surface. “No, I am not, but I can’t sit around worrying about everything. If that were the case, I wouldn’t even get on a plane, or worse yet, drive my car. Have you seen the statistics on car accidents?” Her voice rose with each word in spite of the fact that her throat ached, the taste of the river still in her mouth.

  He glared at her.

  “Are you going to threaten turning around every time something happens to go wrong?”

  His glare evolved into a frightening look that took her breath away. Her tongue shot out to lick her dry lips.

  “I am committed to finding my brother no matter what. Do you have a sibling?”

  His mouth hardened a bit more around the edges which she hadn’t thought was possible. “Yes, a sister.”

  For a brief moment she wondered about Mr. Slader’s childhood and his family, before she replied, “Then you must understand that I won’t believe Zach died until I see his dead body.”

  “You could wander around this jungle a long time and never find him or his dead body.” Mr. Slader peered over his shoulder toward Pedro and Miguel, then back at her. “Okay, we’ll go forward for the time being. Any more foolhardy tricks like the last one and you won’t be able to talk me out of returning. And we will be back in Mandras when the rainy season starts. I don’t have a long time to wander around this jungle. One month, lady. That’s as long as you’ll have my services.”

  “Oh, then you have some other pressing business to attend to?” she asked to keep from thinking she didn’t want to be stuck with him more than a week—let alone a whole month—thirty long days.

  He grumbled something under his breath and rose, turning his back on her to speak to the two porters.

  Kate attempted to stand and fell back on her bottom, her legs so weak they refused to support her. She wouldn’t ask Mr. Slader for help if he were the last man standing. She scanned her surroundings, every shade of green represented, and found a limb above her head to the right that appeared sturdy. Grasping it, she used it to yank herself to her feet. Halfway up she came eye to eye with two black, beady ones. A tongue flicked out, and she screamed.

  Mr. Slader spun around.

  Kate jumped back against him, and if he hadn’t held her by her upper arms, they would have both ended up in the river again.

  She stared at the spot where she had seen those two beady eyes and flicking tongue and pointed her finger. “A snake!”

  Releasing his hold and coming forward, Slader examined the area she indicated. “Which you have obviously scared away with your scream.”

  Glancing at him, she saw him stick his finger in his ear. “Good.”

  “Lady, I don’t know if anyone has told you, but you have a very effective voice.”

  “I sing in the choir at my church. Soprano.”

  “That must explain the high pitch. Next time, however, warn me first, so I can step back a few feet and cover my ears.”

  Pedro made a comment from the canoe, and Slader responded to him, then laughed. She really was going to have to learn Portuguese. Or, maybe ignorance was truly bliss.

  “We need to get going. We won’t stop until we have to portage around the falls. We have about a half a mile to go before we reach the waterfall.”

  “It sounds like it’s just around the bend.”

  As she passed him to step into the canoe—very carefully—he said, “It’s very big.”

  Not too much later, Kate discovered for herself just how big.

  Mr. Slader used hand signals to indicate what to do, because of the noise from the water crashing down sixty feet into the river, a fine mist shrouding the surrounding jungle. She craned her neck to stare at the top of the cliff. They had to climb up the side of the falls with the ten-foot-long canoe and their supplies. The enormity of the task hit her like the water tumbling down and striking the river ahead.

  Despite the sun beating down relentlessly, her clothes were still damp, making her shiver. The worst part of her topple into the river earlier was that she’d lost her one and only hat. Even though she had reapplied the sunscreen with a generous coating on her now-exposed face, her worry intensified that Mr. Slader was right—three bottles wouldn’t be nearly enough.


  Pedro hopped off onto some boulders, gripping the front of the canoe to hold it in place while Mr. Slader crawled forward. The craft bounced about on the churning water. The porter struggled to keep the boat anchored.

  After Mr. Slader made it to the rocks and helped Pedro, he motioned for her to make her way to him. She blocked the rocking motion and the roiling water from her mind and instead concentrated on staying low in the canoe and creeping forward one inch at a time. Going over in this part of the river could prove fatal with the rushing water and large boulders all about, especially when she’d only had a handful of swimming lessons, and those had been only two weeks ago. When she neared him, Mr. Slader grasped her arm and assisted her to the rocks.

  Close to her ear, he said, “Make your way over there.” He pointed behind him where there was a small opening in the dense brush.

  She nodded and began picking her way toward the area indicated. On the wet, slick rocks, one foot went out from under her. She fell, scraping her shin, the cotton material of her pants ripping. Glimpsing Mr. Slader, she was glad he hadn’t seen her mishap. Carefully, she stood again and continued forward, all her attention focused on where she needed to place her next step.

  She still had one boulder to go when Pedro and Miguel, barefoot, passed her, carrying the canoe over their heads. She sensed Mr. Slader right behind her. Even though she couldn’t hear his approach, she felt his stare. She threw him a look over her shoulder, glad the waterfall’s roar kept them from carrying on any kind of conversation. Impatience stamped his features. She wasn’t going to hurry the last few steps. Already her shin hurt from her last encounter with the rocks.

  When she ascended to firm, level ground, she sent up a silent prayer of thanks to God for getting her through the past few hours relatively unharmed. Mr. Slader took her arm and prodded her forward. No rest for the weary, she thought, but wouldn’t say a thing to him.

  He led them up the side of the waterfall, carrying the extra supplies while Pedro and Miguel transported the canoe. Kate felt guilty for only managing her twenty-pound backpack until she was a third of the way up the falls and could barely put one foot in front of her. And they weren’t even at the steepest part of the climb.

  Gritting her teeth, she trudged behind Mr. Slader with a pack slung over each arm and the paddles in his hands. Pain from the tense set of her jaw shot down her neck as she marveled at the physical shape the man was in. She’d assumed he usually sat in the Blue Dolphin Bar most of the day and night, downing one drink after another. So how did he do it?

  Her wet clothes, coupled with her hiking boots, felt as though they added an extra fifteen pounds. Yet she was determined to do this if it was the last thing she did.

  Slader paused and turned to check on them. One look at her face and he frowned. “Do you need me to carry your backpack?” he shouted over the noise of the falls.

  The worried way he phrased the question ruffled her feathers, and she straightened as tall as she could with the twenty-pound pack on her back and shouted, “I can handle it.”

  Doubt curved one corner of his mouth up and lifted both eyebrows.

  Somehow, she managed to raise her hand to gesture toward the path ahead. “Look, we’re almost there. Worry about yourself.”

  With a shrug, he pivoted and started up the trail.

  Pride goeth before the fall—those words taunted her each step she labored to take. Okay, she was wrong. She should have accepted his assistance even though it would have come with a smirk and a comment that. She didn’t belong anywhere near a jungle. He was right. She should be home right now, going about her daily routine. But Zach was out there. She couldn’t sit back and do nothing.

  As she prayed, she forgot about the exhaustion that cleaved to every inch of her and that her body ached in places she hadn’t realized could ache. She began to look about her and noticed the primitive beauty that graced the rainforest. A yellow-and-green bird took flight from above her and soared across the river. Following its escape, she tripped. With quick reaction she saw the tree root in the path and caught herself before falling.

  Stay focused on the trail, she told herself, realizing yet again what a novice she was when it came to the jungle; actually, to anything having to do with the outdoors. She didn’t like to go camping, whereas Zach had, and had gone many times while they had been growing up. She liked her indoor bathrooms and a nice soft bed without all the insects and animals, especially the snake variety. And thinking of the comforts of civilization, she missed air-conditioning the most.

  At the end of their forced march to the top of the cliff, Mr. Slader stopped at a small clearing, shrugging off the backpacks and dropping the paddles at his feet. His labored breathing and sweat-drenched clothing were the only indication that he had been bothered by the climb.

  Kate, with her pack still on her back, wilted to the jungle floor. Her dry mouth and throat screamed for water while her head throbbed, the beating of her heart pulsating in her ears. It was so hot that if she had been alone, she would have removed some of her damp clothing. Then she remembered why she wore long sleeves and long pants—to protect her skin from the sun and insects.

  Mr. Slader tilted back his head and drank deeply of the water in his canteen. She watched, too exhausted even to get hers out of her bag. His gaze riveted to hers. Walking the few feet to her, he gave her his canteen. With trembling hands. she latched on to it and brought it to her mouth, not caring that his had been on the same place only seconds before. She had never tasted something so delicious as this water.

  Mr. Slader said something to Pedro and Miguel, who had come into the clearing. They placed the canoe in the calmer water and tied it to a tree trunk.

  “We’ll rest for a few minutes,” Mr. Slader said to Kate, taking out his machete. “I’ll be back.”

  He disappeared into the brush, and for a long moment Kate fought to keep her panic from erupting. What if he didn’t come back? What if something got him? Zach had disappeared in the jungle. What if Mr. Slader did, too? She looked at the two porters by the canoe and remembered she couldn’t speak their language, which didn’t help her panicky feeling.

  Closing her eyes, she bowed her head and whispered, “Lord, I can’t get frightened every time something new happens. I’ll live in a constant state of fright. Please help me to see the wonder and beauty in this new experience and to trust in Your guidance. In the name of Jesus Christ, Your Son, amen.”

  “You really think those prayers are gonna help you?”

  Mr. Slader’s voice behind her made her cringe. She looked heavenward for inspiration in dealing with the man. “Yes, I do, or I wouldn’t do it. But I’m sure you wouldn’t understand.”

  He handed her several bananas, then gave the porters some, too. “Not understand what? That you’re frightened? If you weren’t, I would be worried.”

  She finally released the straps of the pack from her shoulders. “I’m not—” She bit down hard. “Okay, I admit, I’m scared. I almost drowned, and I saw a snake in the first few hours. Both experiences I’d just as soon not repeat.”

  “The first sensible thing you’ve said.” He sat across from her and peeled one of his bananas. “We can always go back at any time. Just say the word.”

  Kate popped a piece of the fruit into her mouth, its taste delicious. “Where did you find these?” she asked.

  No doubt knowing she would pester him with questions if he didn’t respond, he said, “Coming up the trail, I saw them nearby and knew we wouldn’t always get an opportunity so close to us. A lot of the time you have to search for food.”

  She nodded toward the wall of trees to her side, the sound of the waterfall downriver a reminder of the difficulty in the task before her. “I thought there would be tons of food out here in the jungle. Look at all the vegetation.”

  “Some are edible. Some are poisonous, so don’t go eating anything unless I say you can.”

  Kate’s grip on her banana strengthened until she ended up squashi
ng it. She looked down at it between her fingers and sighed.

  “You don’t like taking orders, do you?”

  Patience, Kate. “No.” She began eating the now softened fruit. “Do you?”

  He stabbed her with his dark eyes. “No.”

  “Ah, so there is something we have in common.”

  “But in your case, you’d better learn quickly to take orders. There might not always be time for your arguments. Remember our deal.”

  “Mr. Slader, I haven’t forgotten our deal.”

  He frowned and resumed eating his banana in silence, which was fine with Kate. Talking to him brought to the surface emotions she didn’t allow in Red Creek. She didn’t lose her temper or shout at people back home. Her life was orderly and calm. She had a routine that suited her, and when this was all over with, she would be able to get back to it.

  * * *

  A flock of parrots flew overhead and landed in the tree canopy on the far side of the river. Their insistent squawking filled the air and drowned out all other sounds for a few moments. The sun began its descent toward the horizon. Slader told Pedro and Miguel to head for the sandy beach a hundred yards up ahead.

  “Why are we going to shore?” Kate asked.

  He made the mistake of glancing back at her. Her red face and neck prodded thoughts of his first time in the tropics. He hadn’t really known how strong the sun was near the equator. But he’d learned really fast, having suffered second-degree burns. Without her hat, she was totally exposed to the sun’s rays, even with the sunscreen on, and her alabaster skin was quickly turning red.

  He removed his ball cap and tossed it into her lap. “Put that on.”

  She picked it up. “But it’s sweaty.”

  Her huge eyes were glued to what he knew was the wet, dirty band inside the hat. “It’s the tropics. Sweating is a permanent condition down here. Put the hat on, lady.”

  She huffed. “Why are we going to shore now? It isn’t dusk yet.”

  Her glare drilled into his back. He didn’t have to look over his shoulder to know that. He counted to ten, but with her, counting to a thousand wouldn’t be enough.