The throng of bats flew into the sky perhaps startled by the impatience in her voice. Suddenly she stopped.
“Hey, where’s Manuel?”
* * *
Mercedes stood by a buttressed tree and bit into the life-saving fruit mixed with seeds. “Good thing these trees are plentiful. I’ve got a real love for it.”
His tongue felt glued to his teeth. She rubbed his shoulder trying to change his mood.
“We’re alive, Diego. Be grateful. How did you get those bats to come?”
“I did not call them.”
Their lone torch sputtered. He paced, unable to deal with the sacrifice she had made.
“Stop carrying on. You’re stronger, aren’t you?”
“Yes.” Mercedes tossed a piece of the fruit into the jungle. The remains would soon be gone. Nothing lasted on the jungle floor.
“Going to punish yourself forever?” she asked.
“I want to.”
“Lie down. I need rest. So do you.”
“I sleep in the daytime.”
“Not lately.” She stepped in front of him. “You haven’t undone centuries of self-improvement. I gave you love in the form of my blood. It won’t happen again.” She poked him in the arm. “I’m not a restaurant.”
He gathered wood and used the faltering torch to start a fire. It would keep some of the insects away from her. “Go to sleep.”
“Not unless you sit against the tree with me.”
He did as she wished, but her words had done nothing to ease the contempt he felt for himself. His beloved had again seen him at his most abysmal, fangs displayed, eyes bestial.
Yet he still had to satisfy himself. He pointed to the jungle and she nodded.
He chose rodents, large, noisy ones. They were lower than man on the evolutionary scale. Exactly where he placed himself. Before he returned, he doubled back along their trail until he found the soil he needed. Mercedes did not need to know. Why remind her of the demands of his nature?
The jaguar that hunted nearby left them unmolested.
Sunlight failed to wake his beloved. However the dappled rays stung like pinpricks on his skin. Today more yellow than green filtered through the leaves. Perhaps they were closer to civilization.
A drop of water landed on Mercedes’ wrist followed by its clone. Water did what the sun had not. She awoke and stood near him. The emergent trees parted in a gust of wind as darkness swept over the sky-starved lower foliage. They stood next to a hearty ficcus and used the rain to wash.
On another trail, the soil turned to mud. Their boots sank past the soles and when they lifted their feet a sucking sound accompanied their movements.
Mercedes laughed. “It’s not all bad. This muck is disgusting, but look at that butterfly.”
“A blue Morpho.”
“Prettier than jewelry.”
“How do you feel?”
“Ready for a hot bath.”
He grasped her hand. “Listen, flowing water.” They followed the sound to a stream about six inches deep and a foot wide. She drank then washed her hands and face. On his skin the water felt warm. He thought of the evenings they had had in his pool.
“Do you know where we are?” she asked.
“No.”
“What’s your plan, captain?”
“We follow the stream to a river and the river to a village.”
“What’ll we do then? Our clothes are in shreds.”
He ran his fingers over the welts showing through gaps in the sleeves and bodice of her shirt. “You are in pain.”
“The closer I get to Long Island the less I hurt.”
“Then we will hurry.”
She examined his body. “You’ve healed. Nothing for me to kiss and make better.”
“There’s always room for improvement, but that can take place on Long Island.”
Mercedes talked for miles. He pointed to a sloth climbing down a tree. “We have company.”
“He’s more tired than I am.”
“Look higher.”
“Orchids!” She clasped his hand. “They remind me of your garden.”
At dusk he stationed her by a ceiba tree. She recognized heliconia nearby as she paused to gather palm leaves for their bedding. He built a fire using a bow drill. Over the centuries he had lost the skill, but it returned before he sacrificed a second piece of shoelace or broke the spindle.
She stretched on her side. “Are you going to feed tonight?”
“Yes.” He placed several branches near her. “You know what to do.”
“Keep the fire high.”
He entered the jungle, with life humming around him. The rainforest felt less mysterious. The sensation had happened other times in his living-dead life, but never because he felt at home. Always the reason had been because he pretended to belong. He acted the part of the new farmer or the landowner or the kindly civil servant. The difference now was that Mercedes had humanized him.
Since he was a vampire, the statement seemed a contradiction, but the explanation rang true in his heart. He knew what he felt. When he again sat near the fire, Mercedes put her leg over his and gave him the look of a courtesan.
“Is there a masseuse in the house?” she asked.
“I do not have a great deal of experience.”
“I really need your help. My calves are killing me. I was unprepared for the jungle.”
“Where should I begin?”
“You choose.”
Diego overdid the gentleness. Not every part of her skin had welts. “You can rub harder. I just look soft.”
When he finished kneading her calves, his hands massaged the small of her back.
“I’m melting. You’re better than a spa.”
“I will take that comment as encouragement.”
He massaged her shoulders and neck, careful to lift her hair. The orange light of the fire created a homey atmosphere something she never thought would happen in the jungle. She inhaled the mingled elemental scents of musk and earth, woman and man.
Never had she felt so relaxed. She closed her eyes for a moment and when she awakened, he held a tiny white flower that he placed behind her ear.
She hoped her smile would be enough of a response. He kissed her shoulder and hugged her to his chest until the jungle awoke. Only then did he stretch out next to her. On his chest he had spread soil.
* * *
Mercedes had handled the miles of loose trail bordered by occasional jacaranda trees better than many explorers. They stopped to rest near a clearing. “Look.”
“A shed. Maybe somebody’s inside with soap.”
He laughed. “You are obsessed.” He looked in the window. Some of the mud bricks had caved in along the upper sections. Birds nested in the waning thatched roof. He opened the reed door and scanned the floor. “Nothing but a candy wrapper.”
“Which reminds me, I’m hungry.”
Among the din of the birds he caught a man-made sound and signaled for quiet.
“What is it?” she asked.
“Civilization.”
“What’re we going to do?”
“We will make contact.”
She grabbed a rock. “I’m not going to get beaten ever again.”
He had heard chopping, but that ceased. They followed a freshly packed trail lined with whitewashed stones that emptied into a clearing.
A young man with a wilted straw hat spotted them and froze in front of a green canvas tent. He jerked back. “Whoa. I wasn’t expecting anyone today.”
Several muscled workers, perhaps members of a nearby tribe, carried planks and hammers. Their presence or their appearance startled the men who stumbled cartoon-like into one another.
“Where are we?” Mercedes asked.
The young man extended his hand. “I’m Charlie. I’m in charge of construction. You’re at the newest eco-lodge in this province.” He looked at their clothes. “What happened?”
Mercedes tried to smooth her hair. “We r
an into unfriendly guys who took our stuff.” She shrugged. “Not much else to tell.”
“Looks like you could use some help.”
Her face brightened. “Soap?”
“You bet. We just set up the shower area thanks to a few rainfalls and a stream. I have an extra tee-shirt. Be loose on you, but you need it more’n I do.”
“We’ll be your first customers.”
He shook his head. “Our third set.”
“You have other guests?” Mercedes asked.
“Yep. They’ve been here two days.”
“Do you have a phone?”
“Nope. And neither do they.”
Her shoulders drooped. “Well, soap will go a long way to make me feel better. Can’t have everything.”
Diego glanced around hoping to see a general store. Many tribes wove beautiful cloth and made leather goods. “Can we buy a change of clothes here?”
“Not yet.”
“Any rooms available?”
“As you can see, we’re under construction, but we won’t turn you away. We got folks here now who’ve been everywhere including Timbuktu. Looks like you guys might have a few good survival stories of your own. It should be a good mix.”
“Do you accept plastic?”
“Sure.” He pointed to the lodge farthest from his tent. “I can only offer that building. The men’re working on it. It still won’t have a roof by tonight.”
“It will be fine.”
“We got a generator to run the refrigerator and a few machines. That’s as modern as we’re gonna get.”
“Where’s the nearest town?” Mercedes asked.
“Downriver. But getting to the water’s a hike. Two miles that-a-way.”
“South?”
“Yeah. Tomorrow’s market day so it’ll be easier to hitch a boat ride.”
“You mentioned a shower with soap?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
She marched off with the eco-agent. He joined the carpenters as they prepared to finish a floor. They had no languages in common, but they worked together. The frame for the roof came next. Diego lifted bundles of thatch that would have taken five of the laborers. They found their rhythm and the roof formed over their heads.
When he and the men shook hands at a job well done, Charlie re-appeared carrying a pile of clothes and a brown plastic bag. He gaped when he saw the finished building.
“How’d you do that?”
“Lots of elbow grease.”
He handed Diego toiletries and a comb. “The guests chipped in.”
“Thank you.”
“They understand the jungle can be hell. Could’ve had the same thing happen to them.” Charlie tossed him a blue tee shirt that advertised a café in Santa Barbara. “Wear it in good health.”
He wanted to repay Charlie for making them welcome. “Do you have another job? I am volunteering. And then I will shower.”
“The community room’s unfinished. The men’re having a break, but that’s next on the list.” He regarded the newly thatched quarters. “That’s a real nice job.”
“Not much daylight left. I will see if the men need me.”
“English isn’t your native language is it?”
“No.” They walked to the building-in-progress. “Will it have walls?”
Charlie laughed. “If you and the guys feel up to it.”
“Where is Mercedes?”
“Here and I feel terrific.” She tossed him a fresh towel. Charlie’s shirt hid all but the cuts on her lower arms and hands. “Your turn. It’s heaven.”
Diego shook his head. “Later. We have our sights on the community room. Then I will shower and join you in the lodge.”
“Sorry. Doris, Marcie and I are making rice and beans.” She kissed him on the cheek. “Jim’s doing a salad.”
“Marcie, Doris, Jim?”
Charlie explained. “My guests. Jim and Doris have climbed Annapurna.”
Mercedes patted Diego’s cheek. “You’ll meet them at dinner.”
It was easy for her to be comfortable with people. Even as a human he had been more reserved. “Enjoy yourself.”
“I’ve got paperwork,” Charlie announced. “See you in an hour.” He left for his tent.
Diego walked into the jungle and found fruit for Mercedes. How many times had he passed the antidote while Teodoro watched?
At dinner he and Mercedes sat on a bench that he and a worker had hammered together in falling darkness instead of working on walls. The wood still smelled of life. Doris swallowed water she’d purified in a camping flask.
“So, Diego, what brought you to the jungle?”
“Return visit. I traveled here a long time ago. It is still beautiful and very exciting.”
Mercedes nodded. “I loved Ciud’Ak. A lot of tourists, but the beauty of the colonial buildings surrounding the plaza drew me right in.”
Marcie raised her lemonade in a toast. “Here’s to the next time. I think you’ll do better if you hire an official, state approved guide.”
At eight o’clock he and Mercedes retreated to their lodge. She stretched out on a narrow hammock and Diego on the other. Charlie had dropped the netting earlier so insects had not been lying in wait.
She rolled from side to side making the hammock swing. “We’ll have to be at the river early. Charlie said I could take a sandwich from the fridge.” She yawned.
“Eat this first.”
She slipped her hand out of the netting for the fruit. “My favorite. I’ve decided to call them Dámelas.”
“You remember that from language class.”
“That’s right, señor. ‘Give them to me.’ It sounds pretty in Spanish and I like giving you a command.”
“And the name does not sound like an antidote.” He emptied the pockets of his battered slacks—they were heaped in a corner--and spilled soil on the floor. He undid the hammock and laid the woven material over the dirt.
She licked her fingers. “I’m beginning to think we might get out of the rainforest alive.”
He had his doubts. Everything had gone too easily. Even the other guests seemed too obliging. When his beloved and the others slept, he hunted.
Chapter 19
One of the laborers escorted them to the river. His presence made the trip easier and they arrived in attire suitable for jungle travelers thanks to the kindness of strangers. They climbed aboard the first motorized launch. The breeze as they navigated downstream alleviated some of the heat. Along the way they saw sections of shore collapse into the creamy waters of the river. On the banks tee-shirted children wearing shorts waved and Mercedes returned the greeting. A small dugout canoe, fish hanging from a pole, pulled into the first outpost of thatched huts and the children raced to the edge of the water. He sat next to Mercedes and pointed to the caimanes that hugged the shallows and lurked in low-lying vegetation.
“They aren’t going to climb aboard, are they?” Mercedes asked.
“Not unless they are really hungry.”
She poked him in the ribs then finished a second sandwich courtesy of Charlie’s kitchen with a seed for dessert. “Hot tea with sugar would be good now.”
“When we reach the village you can indulge.”
The boat had a bow-to-stern wooden canopy, but the sides were open. They sat toward the front with their legs and arms catching the rays depending upon the bends in the river. Finding complete shade was out of the question. Vendors selling decorative gourds and woven baskets filled the other seats. Most of the handicrafts were tied to the roof.
The pilot steered the craft to the middle of the river where the current sped faster and the motor worked less.
“Why are you so quiet?” she asked. “Shouldn’t you be relieved?”
“There is still time for a surprise. I am on guard.”
“How far do you think Remy’s gotten?” she asked.
“If he used a helicopter, he could be loading the artifacts at one of the coastal ports.”
“I hope we find a phone at the village. We’ve got to report the theft. Then I’ll call Annie.” Another worry surfaced. “How’re we getting out of the country without ID?”
“We will find a way.”
“I’ve got my driver’s license.”
“Where?”
“Left boot. Real New York plastic.” She’d expected him to smile. When he didn’t, she pursued. “What’s wrong?”
“I sense a threat, but I cannot identify the source. The danger feels. . .organic.”
“A premonition?”
“Yes, a bad one.”
She suppressed a shiver. “Maybe it’s stress.”
“Perhaps.”
She dug in the sack Charlie had given her as they left the lodge. “Look! Bug spray! Sun block!” She passed him the tube. “These are two battles we can win.”
He covered exposed parts. It would not do to have his skin flake and steam. A sheet of parrots burst across the river.
Mercedes smiled. “This is corny,” she said, “but they look like flowers.”
“You have been poisoned, coerced, beaten and bled and you still find beauty. More reasons for me to love you.”
She squeezed his hand. “I feel safe. But I’m not about to relax. What if we run into more bat people? What if Remy hunts us?”
Shouts from shore cut her off. Diego concentrated on the village. “Good. The settlement is larger than I thought.”
A mix of boats, including two double-decker tourist crafts, lined the plank dock. With only a plastic bag of supplies for luggage, they were the first to disembark.
Mercedes grabbed his hand “I’ll mingle with the tourists. You eat. I can handle myself.”
“Yeah, right.”
Mercedes burst out laughing. “I’m corrupting your speech. Now watch me make friends.” She smiled at several female tourists who were ogling woven baskets. They smiled back. “See? I’m not alone.”
* * *
Diego fed on a large pig that had drunk its fill from a stream. He retraced his steps into the village on a narrow path. The only dwelling offering a room, a feeble structure roofed with sheets of tin would be the best they could do. Moisture had attacked the wooden door. A hairy millipede darted under a spent banana leaf as he sensed Diego’s approach.
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