“Laura.”
He looked at her, eyes narrowed, confused.
“My name, it’s Lau-ra.” She pointed again at herself. “Lau-ra.” She pointed at him. “What’s your name?”
He was still confused, pointing at his own chest. “La-wa.”
She smiled, shaking her head, then pointing at herself. “Lau-ra.” She then pointed at him, using her best “tell me your name” expression, trying to convey that she was asking him something.
His jaw dropped and his head bobbed rapidly as he seemed to get it.
What sounded almost like a popping sound followed by a hard ‘k’ emerged from his mouth as he pointed at his own chest. He repeated it several times.
“Tuk?” she repeated.
He grinned, revealing his barbarous teeth as he slapped his chest, repeating his name.
She smiled. “Your name is Tuk.” She pointed at her chest. “Laura.”
“Lawa.”
“Lowr-raa.”
“Lowr-raa,” he mimicked almost perfectly.
“Laura.”
“Lau-ra!”
She smiled, giving him the thumbs up. “Perfect. You’re Tuk, I’m Laura.”
He smacked his chest. “Tuk,” he said, then pointed toward her. “Lau-ra.”
This seemed to excite him greatly, and after a few more repetitions, he sat down and pulled some dried food out of his bag, offering her some. He said a word with it, then pointed at it then his mouth.
“Food,” she said. She took some and tried it. It wasn’t bad, though she could imagine what Reading would say.
Like dried bloody oats!
But it was food and she didn’t know when she’d get fed again. Besides, she wanted to establish a bond, and he was already repeating “food” over and over, handing her more. After several minutes of him feeding her, she was indeed full, having eaten a good sized meal earlier in the evening, so she begged off any more. He seemed to understand and pointed at her bed, saying something along with her name.
She nodded. “Laura sleep.”
She lay down and he jumped forward, startling her slightly but she kept her control. He repositioned the leaves to cover her again, then jumped back, turning his back on her in what appeared to be an attempt to give her privacy.
She closed her eyes, her mind slowly settling as she tried to figure out the best way to handle things in the morning. It appeared at this point he meant her no harm, but that could turn in an instant should she not cooperate with him. There didn’t appear to be any sexual component to the abduction, at least not yet, and they still weren’t that far from the campsite.
She would have to figure out some way to delay their travel and continue to lay her trail.
If she didn’t, she might very well be lost to her world forever.
Professor James Acton knew he was in deep shit. He had stumbled upon what appeared to be a hunting party camping for the night. The spear pressed against his throat felt ready to pierce the skin. He slid his hand with the phone into his pocket, pressing the button to turn it off when inside so they wouldn’t see the display flash. He slowly raised his hands, keeping his expression as neutral as possible, and not exposing his teeth. He knew very well that in some cultures, the baring of teeth was considered hostile, and the fact they seemed to be showing him their own teeth had him clamping his jaw shut.
He had no idea how primitive these half dozen men were, whether or not they had ever seen a white man before, technology like his phone or his gun, or even if they had heard a modern language.
Staying quiet and cooperating seemed the best option at the moment.
Four spears were held on him as two men stepped forward, patting him down as thoroughly as any cop, his gun, magazines, phone and other supplies all tossed in a pile on the ground.
And as he eyed the phone, he realized what an idiot he had been. It contained a GPS locator in it, which meant it could be tracked.
But only if it was turned on.
His hands were bound along with his ankles and he was pushed to the ground, his back against a tree. Two of his captors crouched nearby, their spears aimed in his direction as the others returned to sleep. And with nothing else he could possibly do, he soon found his own exhaustion overtaking him as the adrenaline that had fueled him for the past couple of hours wore off.
God, please take care of my wife.
Rio Negro River, Northern Amazon, Brazil
Two days before the attack
Dawn broke suddenly, at least for Reading, he having fallen asleep at some point through the night. He glanced over at Milton who was awake, the satellite phone still gripped in his hand, the iPad on his lap. The sound of the motor and the motion of the boat had Reading on his feet.
“Where are we going?”
“Just upriver a bit, apparently there’s a tribe there that might be able to help,” replied Milton. He held up the iPad. “Do you realize we’re only a couple of miles from the Venezuelan border?”
Reading shook his head. “No.” He frowned. “If she’s taken across the border, we’re going to have bigger problems getting her back. The local searchers probably won’t cross and the Venezuelans won’t exactly be cooperative.”
“We can’t be sure of that.”
Reading nodded, sitting down again. “No, you’re right. But look at that map. Almost their entire population is concentrated in the north along the coast. For them to mount a search and rescue operation, even if they were willing, would take days at least.”
“I got an email from Terrence a few minutes ago.”
Reading’s eyebrows climbed a little at the mention of Laura’s star grad student. “And?”
“And he’s contacted the head of her security team, Lt. Colonel Leather. Leather says the security team at the Peru dig site where Jim’s students are is too far away. It would take them a few days to get here—it’s a day just to get to Lima from that dig. He’s bringing in a half-dozen men who will arrive in-country tomorrow. They’re apparently going to try and charter a small plane and parachute in. We could have boots on the ground as early as tomorrow night.”
Reading frowned. “Two full days after. And that assumes they can make the jump. This is dense jungle.”
Milton glanced over his shoulder at the thick forest to their right. It was tall, dense, and unforgiving. And he was sure any clearings large enough to be seen from the air and targeted by a paratrooper were manmade and potentially occupied. “Could they land in the water?” he asked.
Reading looked at the river, fairly swift but from what he could tell, free of rocks. “Perhaps. How they’d get to shore though would be the challenge. They could be swept quite a distance, and their equipment would be pretty damned heavy. I doubt they’d be able to swim.”
“These guys are pros. I’m sure they know what they’re doing.”
Reading nodded. “Anything else happen while I was asleep? Any word from Jim?”
Milton shook his head, closing his eyes for a moment. “No. He’s missed all his check-ins since that voice mail. I’m really worried.”
“Me too.” It was almost a murmur, Reading not wanting to acknowledge exactly how worried he was that two of his best friends were missing. He barely knew Milton, but knew Milton was extremely close to Acton so was certainly taking this even harder. And he also knew what helplessness could feel like. He had no doubt Milton wanted to dive into that jungle and find his friends, just like he did, but Milton was hampered by his handicap, and he by his age.
To be twenty-five again.
He sighed.
Hell, to be forty-five again!
“Penny for your thoughts.”
“Huh?”
Milton chuckled. “It’s an American—”
“I know what it means,” interrupted Reading. He shook his head, looking at Milton. “Just cursing old age.”
Milton slapped his stomach. It had grown significantly when he was first injured, but was much more respectable now, though not where h
e wanted it to be. “Tell me about it.”
“You’ve got an excuse.”
“Bah, don’t let the wheelchair fool you. I had packed on an extra twenty before I got shot. Working behind a desk kills you slowly. First your fitness, then your spirit.”
“Thinking of a change?”
Milton shook his head. “Even if I fully recover, I’ll never truly be fully recovered. My days of running marathons and chasing after Jim are over. Besides, I love the kids. Don’t get me wrong, the job is great for the most part, but pushing paper isn’t what I thought I’d end up doing.”
Reading grunted. “You shouldn’t have taken the promotion,” he said, knowing exactly what Milton was talking about. “Leaving Scotland Yard is one of my big regrets. This INTERPOL job has me staring at computer screens more than anything else. At least in my old job I was visiting crime scenes, looking for clues, interrogating people, catching bad guys.”
“You loved it.”
“I bloody well did!” He chuckled. “You know, if it weren’t for Jim and Laura, my life would be pretty dull. But between having to either bail them out or being dragged along for the ride, I’ve seen more action in the past few years than in my entire military career.”
“You were in the military?”
“Early eighties. Falklands War. I was—”
“We are here!” called Fabricio, pointing to the shore.
Reading and Milton rose, both staring at the shore. A small village of what Reading couldn’t help but think of as savages could just be seen through the trees. If you didn’t know to look for them, you could just as easily miss them. As the Captain guided the boat around the bend, he sailed them into an inlet that bent out of sight from the Rio Negro. The calm, isolated waters were filled with several dozen natives swimming, washing, and performing various other tasks. Several small boats, perhaps better described as canoes, were pulled up onto the shore. Farther inland were several large communal buildings, a large central fire pit and various other smaller structures where it looked like they were stretching animal skins, curing meat and fish, and fashioning tools and weapons.
“Aren’t they all supposed to be naked?” asked Reading, a small part of him a little disappointed as he spotted some gorgeous women nearby, waving at them.
Then he noticed their breasts were only covered by long hair.
He smiled.
“Not if they’ve had contact with the outside world. The tribes that haven’t usually go completely naked, some with merely a loincloth to cover their most private of bits.”
“I see.”
“You sound disappointed.”
Reading looked at Milton. “And you aren’t?”
Milton grinned. “Devastated, I’m sure.”
The Captain positioned the boat beside a perfectly serviceable dock, these natives clearly set up to trade with the outside world. Captain Fabricio waved at an approaching elder, shouting something in Portuguese, a response offered in the same. Fabricio turned to Reading and Milton.
“You wait here. I will see if they are willing to help.” He lowered his voice. “And whatever you do, don’t show your teeth!”
Reading’s smile at the bouncing bounty quickly filling the shoreline was instantly wiped away. “Why not?”
“Teeth mean you challenge them.”
“Good to know,” said Milton, his own face slackening.
Reading found himself scanning the shore for tooth-filled smiles, but only found what to him appeared to be nice, non-threatening smiles of the closed-mouth variety.
Fabricio then looked to Milton. “And don’t let them see wheelchair.”
“Now wait a minute!” exclaimed Reading, jumping to Milton’s defense.
Fabricio shook his head rapidly, raising his hands. “It is a sign of weakness. They must see only strength. It best you stay here.”
Reading was about to open his mouth when Milton held out his hand. “No, it’s perfectly fine. These cultures respect strength and vitality. Seeing a man my age restricted to a wheelchair, or weak, would make them think we’re all weak, unwilling to put me out of the tribe.”
“Huh?”
“In their society I’d be considered a burden. Only elders are permitted that privilege. Someone like me, who couldn’t walk on his own, would leave the tribe of his own accord, never to be seen again.”
“You’re kidding.”
Milton sat down, clearly fatigued. “Not at all. It’s really quite common. When a member of the tribe feels he’s a burden and can no longer contribute in some meaningful way, it is his duty to do the right thing and leave. That way the tribe, usually few in number, don’t have to provide for the non-contributing member.”
Fabricio’s head bobbed in emphatic agreement. “This is right. What he say is right.”
“Sounds bloody barbaric to me.” Reading looked down at Milton. “Are you going to be okay?”
He nodded. “It’s for the best anyway. Someone needs to mind the phone.”
Reading had to agree with that one. Who knew how a ringing phone might appear to these people? Though they clearly weren’t afraid of the new arrivals, how much technology they had been exposed to was questionable.
“We should go, they will think it rude to keep them waiting,” said Fabricio, motioning for Reading to join him on the ramp. Reading put a smile on his face, careful to not show any teeth, and walked down the ramp after Fabricio. Bows and awkward handshakes were exchanged with the elders, there now almost one hundred people gathered, many with their hands extended to try and touch the strangers, especially Reading, his English skin probably some of the most pale they would have ever seen.
Reading kept the pleasant expression on his face despite his not being a fan of being touched, especially pet as if an animal. A few squeezes had him feeling like he was being sized up for dinner.
Someone squeezed his balls.
His head dropped quickly to see who did it, the culprit apparently a giggling beauty he had seen earlier on the shore. She let go, saying something, the response laughter, leaving his manhood to feel like it would shrink from embarrassment. Then one of the men grabbed it and squeezed. He swatted away the hand.
The man jumped back, shaking his spear then laughed when the woman who had begun squeezing the fruit in his grocery aisle said something.
He had to know. Talking under his breath while trying to not move his mouth, he asked Fabricio, “Any idea why they’re laughing?”
Fabricio began to laugh himself, looking up at the imposing Reading. “They want to know if all of you was as big as you look.”
I had to ask.
He didn’t know if his ego could take the answer so he didn’t bother asking.
“Apparently the woman and the man disagree.”
Interesting.
He looked at the woman who was nearby, keeping pace with the procession as it moved into the building. She seemed to be eyeing him like a piece of meat. Visions of the chief gifting this gorgeous creature to him as some sort of custom that could not be refused breathed a little life down below, making Hugh, Jr. wish for another squeeze.
“Apparently she think you are no bigger than anyone else, but the man disagree. I think he like you.”
“Huh?”
“He gay, you know, he like boys.”
Reading looked over the man, he too sizing him up like the main course at dinner. “I got that.” Reading’s fantasy suddenly turned into a nightmare vision of being offered the man, refusing an insult that would get them all killed.
Suddenly everything stopped, a hush spreading across the entire village as everyone turned to Reading’s right. Several men emerged from the forest, spears raised over their heads, shouting in triumph, their face paint a little more menacing looking than the simple reddish-purple and white most of the villagers were covered with.
But that wasn’t what caused Reading to gasp in shock.
It was the two men behind the lead group carrying a long branch between them on
their shoulders, their prey tied to it by the hands and feet. Human prey. Reading’s heart slammed against his chest as the realization of what he was seeing was finally comprehended.
His friend, in agony, strung like a piece of meat between the two hunters.
“Jim!”
One day from the Rio Negro, Northern Amazon, Brazil
Tuk held Lau-ra by the wrist, gently now, there no longer any need to worry she might run away. From the shouts of the hunters last night it seemed clear the Spirit People looking for her had been captured, which confirmed what he suspected.
They lost their power the farther from the mighty river they went.
Which must mean that Lau-ra had no powers anymore. He had to admit he was slightly disappointed, but then he had always wanted a human for a mate, not a spirit, so the fact she had become fully human thrilled him.
Almost fully human.
She was still a ghastly pale, as unhealthy looking as anyone he had ever seen. In the morning light he had thought it might be paint, like the red clay much of his own body was covered in, the white markings on his cheeks and forehead identifying his clan and tribe. Several rubs of her arm, even licks, failed to remove it though, leaving him to fear his intended mate might not be long for this world.
Could that be the curse?
Doomed to live on the river, never to set foot on land again lest they die all over again?
It would seem to make sense. The Mother was infinite in Her wisdom, and if the Spirit People were free to roam the land at will, life would be intolerable for Her children that dwelled there. It would be a terrifying existence for his people to see their ancestors roaming freely about. Though the medicine man sometimes claimed, with the help of certain plants, to communicate with the Spirit World, Tuk had always had his doubts. He had tried some of the herbs with Pol once and they both heard voices and saw a lot of strange things, but it had been gibberish.
But fun.
His heart again sank at the thought of his friend, dead, and wondered if he were on the mysterious craft that plied the mighty river. Was he on that very boat, or another one? Would Tuk even recognize him if he saw him? Tuk looked over at Lau-ra and wondered what she had looked like in her previous life, when she was alive? Would she have been beautiful like TikTik, or plain? It was hard to tell, her features so completely different from anything he had ever seen before, she was almost a creature unto herself.
Amazon Burning (A James Acton Thriller, #10) Page 6