Jenny nodded.
“That’s exactly where the professors were going, at least from a Brazilian standpoint. Any farther up and you’re in Colombia and Venezuela.”
Jenny’s eyes widened. “Do you think we should warn them?”
Mitchell nodded. “When they call we’ll let them know what we know. I doubt it’s anything but you never know.” The shower turned off and he lowered his voice. “For now let’s humor him and see what additional info we can get.”
Jenny nodded, suddenly not looking as comfortable with their decision to help this stranger.
Two Day’s Travel from Rio Negro, Northern Amazon
Day of the attack
Laura lay curled into a ball, shivering, the nights of the jungle cold, especially on hard earth ten feet down. And the sounds were terrifying. What was beautiful from the safety of the boat, or even the camp with James beside her, took on a sinister quality in which everything was closer, everything had an agenda.
She tried to block the sounds out mentally, then physically covered her exposed ear, but it was of no use. Instead she began doing math in her head, a trick James had said worked for him, just simple factors of two, easy at first, more difficult when you got into the five and six figures. And it worked.
Her mind occupied, she slowly gave in to sleep, awaking to find a cool, steady rain falling. She shivered in the cold, but immediately jumped to her feet to take advantage of this fresh source of water. She held her head back, catching as much as she could in her mouth while cupping her hands to act as a spout to deliver even more. She continued to drink as much as she could, even beyond what she needed, not knowing when she’d get another chance, and preferring a belly full of water than nothing. The rain suddenly stopped and she returned to her now muddy corner, deciding instead to leave it be and sit against what she was thinking was the western wall where the sun would hit first, and fortunately had been left almost untouched by the rain, it coming in slightly from the west.
She shook almost uncontrollably from the cold, her legs drawn up, her hands clasped around her shins as she tried to warm up. Still shaking, she closed her eyes and lowered her chin into her knees and began to count, deciding sleep was better than this, and within minutes she once again felt herself begin to pass out, exhaustion taking over from the cold.
Tuk woke at the crack of dawn and left TikTik’s village, having said his goodbyes the night before. He hadn’t mentioned the Woman of Light to anyone, though they had grilled him for answers, his demeanor so happy they knew something was up, he usually so shy and demure. He simply kept repeating that he was excited for TikTik’s wedding, which was usually enough to change the conversation, TikTik a very popular girl within the village.
“Bruk is a lucky man!” they kept repeating, and Tuk would agree. But so am I! He wanted to scream it, but he wouldn’t dare. Couldn’t. If she didn’t survive the Cleansing Ritual, there would be no mating ceremony, no future, no hope.
He sighed as he took one last look at the village of several hundred, a much more thriving and exciting place than his own. It was amazing how much damage could be done in a single day to a village. The boys who had died from the boar incident would have fathered at least a dozen children by now, and the more of those that were boys the more their village might grow. But they were gone, and one of the few left of mating age was him.
A great disappointment to the elders he was sure.
They never said anything to him, but he knew there was talk. His mother would be gloomy sometimes, cussing under her breath about one or more of the elders, and when he’d ask her why, she’d simply say they were going crazy and it was past their time to join the Spirit World.
But he knew. He knew she had been forced to defend him once again.
Too often he cried himself to sleep on those days, the long communal lodges they slept in difficult to hide emotions in. Sometimes when he would be crying in his sleep he would wake to find Pol shaking him by the shoulder and they would leave the village, out of earshot so they could talk. Usually so he could talk and Pol listen. Pol was great that way, offering advice when needed, and an ear when not.
I miss you!
His journey home was a mix of melancholy and joy. He would think of his lost friend and his difficult life, then of Lau-ra-pal-mer, the Woman of Light from the Spirit World who the Mother had given him, a gift of beauty and wonder that would change his life forever, and make him if not the envy of the other males, at least an equal to them when it came to having a suitable mate.
I wonder how many children we’ll have?
He hoped they would all be boys. And one daughter. He always loved little girls, but he couldn’t imagine the heartbreak their parents would endure when they took a mate and left.
Six boys and one girl. That’s what he wanted. Six boys was a good number. And if half survived until mating age, they just might be able to help the village recover and survive another generation.
Entering the village he saw his mother just waking. She waved, a look of relief on her face as she held out her arms and rushed up to him, hugging him tight.
“Where were you?” she cried, holding him at arm’s length. “You left without saying anything!”
“I just needed some time,” he mumbled, feeling guilty now for having left so abruptly.
She took his hands, squeezing them knowingly. “Pol?”
He nodded.
“I still can’t believe he’s gone.” She sighed then motioned toward the other side of the village. “TikTik was asking of you.” She gave him a look that he knew meant she knew exactly how he felt about her.
Why are you torturing me?
“I’m sorry for not telling you I was leaving.”
She hit him lightly on the arm. “Don’t you dare do that again.” She led him to the village center where several of the women were preparing breakfast. TikTik was brushing the hair of her future mate’s grandmother. He stared at her, her beauty overwhelming, her smile intoxicating, her laughter like music from the most beautiful bird the Mother had created.
She was perfection.
He pictured the Woman of Light, and how different she was. Beautiful in her own way, impossibly unique, but not TikTik. He knew who he truly wanted, and the Woman of Light would be settling, but at least she was a close second.
They would be happy together.
And he knew his mother would be delighted he had found a mate. She was desperate for grandchildren, and her chances were few, he her only son, the other children all dead before their first cycle. And then his father had been killed, ending her hopes of further children.
He stared at TikTik, her beauty once again overpowering him. He knew if he was strong like Bruk there was a good chance she would be with him instead. But that wasn’t to be.
TikTik caught him staring and smiled. He quickly moved his head, pretending to stare at a nonexistent bird, and wondered how he’d survive the next six days, waiting for the Cleansing Ritual to end.
Bruk grabbed TikTik from behind, Grandmother scolding them.
He couldn’t take it any longer.
I’ve got to get out of here.
Retired Lt. Colonel Cameron Leather looked at the GPS and motioned in the direction they were to follow. Two villagers were accompanying them, one of whom spoke broken Portuguese, two of his men fluent, handpicked for that very reason. The two villagers could prove useful as guides and trackers, but more importantly they could smooth out any ruffled feathers should other natives be encountered.
He didn’t want to be trussed up like Professor Acton had evidently been.
They had left Reading and Milton back on the boat along with his injured man who would survive, but his bruised thigh and mild concussion would simply slow them down on their journey, of which speed was the essence. They had Acton’s coordinates from where he had apparently found a trail, and without having to actually look for the trail, they were making extremely good time, able to jog for most of the way. Th
ey anticipated reaching the Professor before nightfall, giving them a large search party with plenty of firepower should things turn ugly in trying to retrieve his client, Professor Palmer.
He hoped it didn’t end with a firefight.
She had been kidnapped, of that there was no doubt. It was a hostile act, of that there could be some doubt. Who knew what these natives were thinking. He was one to never underestimate his enemy, and he made few assumptions about them either, except that they were probably smarter than most gave them credit for.
But smarts wasn’t the issue this time.
Motivation was.
What was the motivation of her kidnapper? The fact that she was still leaving a trail behind said she was walking on her own two feet, which meant alive and conscious. The fact she seemed to be going voluntarily also seemed to suggest she didn’t feel any immediate fear. He would have assumed she would have made much more of a struggle than she had if she thought death was the end game.
Then again she could just be playing for time, hoping she would be found before that moment.
And he was trained to assume the worst.
He had to assume that whenever she reached their destination, she was going to be killed.
He just prayed they could reach her before that.
“What the hell is that?”
Acton pointed to a large tree at the base of which was the largest dead snake he had ever seen. It was massive, at least ten yards long and the thickness of a man. His immediate instinct was to run, and he almost had before he noticed it was gutted. The natives quickly surrounded it, poking it with their spears, then Sandro and the Portuguese speaking guide Skip rapid fired a series of questions and answers back and forth.
Sandro turned to Acton. “They say it killed probably one day ago. They also say it probably one person, maybe two.”
“How do they know that?”
“If it was organized hunt, nothing would have been wasted.”
Acton nodded as he circled the beast, it already crawling with the smallest denizens of the forest. “Makes sense. And the trail leads here, doesn’t it?”
Sandro pointed to a heel print. “Yes.”
Skip pointed up in the tree, saying something to Sandro.
“He says someone slept up there.” Skip jumped up the tree, climbing it with startling speed, then shouted down to Sandro. “He say two people eat there and sleep there.”
“I can’t believe he would hunt a snake that big!”
Sandro shook his head. “No one hunt Anaconda that big. It probably attack, they defend.”
Acton felt his stomach tie itself into a knot at the thought of this creature attacking. He dropped to one knee, his eyes closed as he felt faint, images of this creature devouring his beloved Laura too much. Sandro’s voice sounded distant and he felt his face breakout into a cold sweat as he began to sway.
“Senhor!”
He felt a hand on his shoulder, shaking him, and he opened his eyes, the massive head of the snake staring back at him. He turned his head, too quickly, a wave of dizziness almost overwhelming him as his mouth filled with bile. He shoved his thumb into the pressure point just above his wrist and began to massage the bundle of nerves, his nausea slowly going away as the world came back into focus.
“Senhor, are you okay?”
Acton nodded, holding his hand out. Sandro pulled him to his feet and Acton steadied himself, making a point not to look at the now dead predator. “We’re wasting time,” he finally said. “Let’s get back to the trail.”
Sandro shouted the order and they were soon moving forward, and with each step, Acton felt his strength return. He took a swig of water from his canteen and nodded his appreciation to Sandro, who seemed relieved the episode had passed.
Skip pointed out several heel prints and a flush of relief washed over Acton as it was now confirmed Laura was alive and not in the belly of the dead beast’s partner.
Mentally shoving the visuals of what he had just seen aside, he focused all of his attention on the trail and his wife that had left it.
Reading lay in his hammock, Kinti splayed across him, her head snuggled on his shoulder as she gently slept. But sleep eluded Reading, his mind filled with horrible visions of what could have happened to Laura. Acton had just checked in with the news they had found where Laura and her captor had slept two nights ago, and that there had been a battle with an Anaconda.
He shivered.
Kinti moaned, waking slightly and kissing him on the neck as she snuggled closer, falling asleep again within moments. Milton was resting in his bed, Kinti having brought a large amount of very soft furs for him to lie on once she understood his back was sore. She had also delivered a massage that Reading was sure had helped Milton understand part of the attraction he felt for Kinti.
The more time he spent with her, the stronger the connection became, and he wasn’t sure what to do. He knew he had to end it, but it had been so long since he had not only a physical connection with someone, but an emotional one, that he missed it dearly. It wasn’t just the sex, which was unlike anything he could have imagined before, it was the companionship, the knowledge that someone cared for you, liked you and wanted to spend time with you. It made him realize how much of a void he had been living with all these years. He didn’t regret leaving his wife, that was the right decision otherwise they would have killed each other, but he was now regretting the decision to swear off another relationship. He had his dalliances when he was younger, but it had been a long time since he’d “blown off some steam”.
And he felt great.
He felt wonderful.
Sexual satisfaction was one thing, emotional satisfaction was an entirely different beast, a beast he hadn’t realized had been preying on him for decades. His heart cried out at the time he had lost feeling this way, and it ached at the knowledge that what it had found would be gone in a matter of days, if not sooner.
There was no future for him and Kinti.
And it broke his inexperienced heart.
He looked down at her and kissed the top of her head. She wriggled happily, and returned to her slumber, content.
It made him wonder what she was thinking.
She must realize the same thing he did, that this would soon be over, but she didn’t seem to be letting it bother her.
She’s got the right attitude.
Enjoy the moment, don’t think about the future.
And if that was what she was thinking, it was the right choice.
“Help!”
Reading bolted upright in his hammock, almost spilling the two of them to the deck, as he looked for the source of the desperate cry. Kinti immediately woke, grabbing onto him as he swung his legs to the floor, helping her out.
“Help me!”
The voice was desperate and coming from the entrance of the small inlet they were docked in. Kinti pointed to the shoreline near the mouth where the river was and Reading gasped.
A man, clothed, was wading through the water along the river’s edge, waving at them with one arm.
The other limp at his side, covered in blood.
Three Day’s Travel from Rio Negro, Northern Amazon
Day of the attack
TikTik hummed as she pulled the brush through the hair of her future mate’s grandmother Trin, it a chore she was happy to do, the old woman so pleased with the result. She looked out of the corner of her eye and saw Tuk staring at her again. She liked Tuk. They had grown up together, her village and his always on friendly terms and so close that the children would often accompany their parents when visiting.
They had become friends, and when she was younger, had even declared to her mother that she wanted to be mated to Tuk when the time came. Her mother had dismissed the idea, even discouraged it, saying he was too weak to be a husband, too small to be a good provider. She had thrown something at her mother, what she couldn’t remember, and stormed out of their village and hid in the forest, her father and several others
having to come search for her.
She had cried in her father’s arms as he carried her home, refusing to tell him why she was so upset, her mother apparently too ashamed to share her revelation. He hadn’t been mad at her, it was clear to him she had been upset by something, and that night she had cried herself to sleep, her dreams of living in Tuk’s village and having children with him destroyed.
She knew Tuk still longed after her, but he had no idea how much she longed after him. Bruk was wonderful, of that there was no doubt. He was a prize mate, strong, handsome, and a good provider, but he wasn’t the intellectual that Tuk was. Tuk was so smart that she could listen to him for hours talk about the various creatures in the forest, the sounds they made, their habits, their tracks. If you needed something or someone found, Tuk was the man to go to.
He’ll amount to nothing, he’s too weak!
Her mother’s words still cut her like a blade. Tuk’s village seemed to accept him as an equal, and TikTik knew Tuk’s mother was desperate for grandchildren, and TikTik would love to be the one to give them to her. But Tuk had never asked. No matter how many hints she had dropped, no matter how many bashful glances she had returned with a smile, he had never had the courage to ask.
Because he too was convinced he would amount to nothing.
Of that she was certain.
She had heard the jokes made about him at her village, even within earshot of her poor friend. She had cried herself to sleep on many of those nights, sometimes even shouting at those making the comments to shut up, to leave Tuk alone, and she had simply been teased and taunted.
It wasn’t fair. Just because he was smaller and weaker than the others didn’t mean he couldn’t provide for her and a family. His tracking was legendary, and he often led his tribe on hunts, he quickly picking the signs of their prey from the uncooperative forest floor. He could organize groups to build things like none she had ever met, his leadership skills second to none that she had seen.
Amazon Burning (A James Acton Thriller, #10) Page 12