Buried in the Sky

by Ryan Mullaney

  When he departed to a different seat, Simone leaned back and shut her eyes.

  The British crew seemed to have no idea what the American crew had done, and likewise, no hint was given of what expeditions the British trio had been on in the past.

  She pictured Vincent and his crew out in the wild somewhere, uncovering mystical artifacts of unexplainable origin. Just how many were there, crews as well as artifacts, if that was indeed the case?

  Trying to wrap her head around the nature of the inexplicable seemed as daunting as trying to answer questions about the universe that scholars and philosophers had been grappling with since the dawn of time. And it was just as hard to answer those questions as it was to reconcile the fact that many would likely never be answered.

  Simone plugged ear buds into her ears as she silently hoped and prayed that wondering who James Smith was and where he might be was not one of the unanswerable questions.

  _____

  Chachapoyas, Peru

  Simone slept through most of the seven-hour flight.

  Ever since she got herself clean and sober, and got better at managing the thoughts and feelings constantly jockeying for position at the forefront of her mind, she was able to find sleep easier than ever before. Even as a child floating between foster families, or as a world-class collegiate athlete on her way to the Olympic tryouts with her whole life ahead of her and the world at her fingertips, she had never slept so well.

  Darkness had fallen on the small town of Chachapoyas and the old Spanish mission that would be their residence for that evening. Built in the 1800s, the mission had been modernized in recent years and converted into a hotel. Simone carried her bags up to the old building, wondering what stories the walls could tell her if they could talk.

  Their unit split in two, with the three men occupying one room and the three women taking the other. On her way into the room, April held the door open for Simone.

  Simone squeezed by, trying not to let her luggage bump into April as she entered. The last thing she wanted to do was give the false impression of animosity between them.

  "Thanks," Simone said, her eyes meeting April's.

  "No problem." April shut the door and set her own luggage down.

  Iris was already inside, the largest of her bags resting on one of the beds.

  One of the two beds.

  "Either two of us get to know each other very well for the night, or someone has to sleep on the floor," she said in a straightforward manner that reminded Simone of an old schoolteacher she had in the third grade.

  The beds were twin size, just large enough for one person, and Simone recalled a clerk at the front desk commenting on the lack of vacancies. This was all that was available.

  "I'll sleep on the floor," Simone said, and shifted toward the nearest wall with enough space to unroll her sleeping bag.

  "No, you take the bed." April stepped away from the bed and set her things on the floor.

  "It's fine, really – "

  "Please," April said, almost pleading with Simone. "I want you to have it."

  "Okay," Simone said, hoping to avoid any conflict between them. It was already weird enough, and she didn't want it to get any weirder. She set her bags on the bed.

  Iris opened the door to the bathroom. "Anyone need to use the wash before I get in?"

  Simone shook her head. "No, thanks."

  "It's all yours," April said.

  Iris started running water for a bath and shut the door behind her, leaving Simone and April alone.

  Even the briefest moment of silence between them sounded like thunder to Simone, a deafening sound that stretched on and on and on.

  "I'm glad you're back," April said at last.

  Simone couldn't think quickly enough on her feet to formulate a proper reply. Thanks? You too? Nothing seemed to fit.

  Instead, she just said, "I'm happy to be here."

  April stepped away from her pile of luggage on the floor, closer to where Simone stood next to one of the tiny beds. "Hey, look ... I'm sorry about last time. I overreacted, and I said some things I shouldn't have said. I hope there's no hard feelings between us."

  "No, it's cool," Simone said, relieved that their encounter was going smoother than she anticipated.

  "We have to watch each other's backs," April said in a lower volume as the sound of running water filled the tub beyond the bathroom door. "We can't trust anyone else to."

  The running water stopped. April held a look on Simone as she nodded toward the bathroom door. It was a look that indicated April did not consider Iris to be trustworthy.

  Simone swallowed, knowing that April had spent time with the British trio, far more than anyone else in their own outfit.

  Simone opened her mouth to ask what April had seen, but April had already turned away and was busy unpacking her sleeping bag, perhaps not wishing to continue the discussion while the water was no longer running and Iris could potentially hear what they were saying.

  Likewise, Simone busied herself with unpacking the essentials for that evening, wondering if April's suspicions rang true or if they were a mere product of her inherent distrust of ... everyone. She always saw others outside their own party of three as a source of danger, a possible threat, someone who either had valuable information or was looking to get it.

  As Simone turned down the covers and sat on the edge of the bed to take off her shoes, she tried giving Iris and Vincent and Warren the benefit of the doubt. Why would they feel threatened by Simone? Or perhaps, she reluctantly thought, maybe the whole thing was some sick game April was playing to somehow get back at Simone for their conflict in Nigeria.

  Simone didn't want to believe that, nor did she wish to believe that what April said could be true. She thought about dragging April out into the hallway, marching her outside and far away from the mission where she could ask exactly what was going on, but just as the thought arose, April zipped herself into her sleeping bag and turned over, nestling her head into her pillow.

  Iris emerged from the bath a short time later. Simone looked up from the map she was studying and smiled a friendly smile. Iris returned it, then went about getting herself ready for bed.

  "The lamp won't keep you up, will it?" Simone asked.

  "Not in the least. I sleep soundly, like a vampire."

  Simone nodded and her eyes went back to the map of the territory they were set to cross in the morning -- a treacherous jungle valley leading up into a mountainous region every bit as dense and unforgiving. There was a tablet packed away somewhere in her bags, but it wasn't worth digging it out and making a ruckus so late. Plus, she liked the tactile feel of holding a real map in her hands and tracing her finger across it, memorizing the movements. It made the whole thing feel more real in some way she couldn't define.

  The challenge before them excited her, but the clawing notion that either April, Iris, or both of them were not completely on Simone's side left a sour taste in Simone's mouth. April was right when she said they had to watch each other's backs. Simone likely knew that better than any of them.

  Soon after Iris called it a night, Simone folded the map and set it aside as she shut off the bedside lamp and lowered her head onto the pillow.

  Simone stared up at the plain white ceiling watching moonlight play in the shadows. She knew she wasn't going to find sleep so easily that night.

  8.

  Utcubamba River, Peru

  The region was considered a tropical savanna – something between a desert and a tropical rainforest.

  Simone adjusted the large hiking pack slung over her shoulders and continued forward, deeper into the jungle. The five others followed.

  The deeper the crew pressed into the jungle, the less sunlight came through the thick canopy overhead and the cooler the temperature became. A shiver ran across Simone's shoulders even as beads of sweat dripped from the band of her boonie hat.

  Iris Pike stepped up next to Simone and kept pace. She had a tablet in hand which d
isplayed a rudimentary outline of the area they were in. "According to the map, we're just a few kilometers from the path to the river," she said, pointing ahead.

  "About four," Simone said.

  Iris threw a sideways glance to Simone. "You're good."

  "Just prepared."

  It was more of a ritual than a habit. Before every expedition, Simone liked to devour as much information as she could about where she was going and what to expect when she got there. Everything from the humidity and chance of precipitation to the nearest settlements and villages and what natural predators to look out for.

  The biggest threat at that moment was snakes. Venomous snakes. And the further they traveled away from the old Spanish mission, the less likely they were to survive a snakebite. She had a kit on hand just in case, but the time it would take to get back to a village meant its effectiveness was limited.

  She kept her eyes down, watching where her boots trampled the carpet of twigs and fallen leaves into the soft dirt of the jungle floor, all the while thinking about how quickly she could grab the machete from the right side of her pack if she needed to with no warning. Would it be quick enough to live to tell about whatever threat presented itself?

  She hoped so.

  Warren Robinson took a more direct approach, electing to haul his automatic assault rifle at his hip. Simone wondered if he was smart for doing so, or just plain scared.

  They came upon the Utcubamba River in good time. The sun was high and the air blessedly dry.

  Simone halted to lower her pack and sip from her canteen. She suited back up, eyeing Warren's assault weapon.

  "We have to lose the guns," she said.

  "What?" Warren looked as dumbstruck as if he had been told he couldn't eat or drink any more that day, like the weapon was of vital, life-sustaining importance.

  "There are uncontacted tribes along this stretch. If we stroll through their territory with guns, they'll see us as a threat."

  "You are saying guns are no match for a few thrown spears?"

  Simone took a step toward Warren, not as a threat or a means of provocation, but to bring them closer together, so they could speak in a normal tone of voice and discuss the problem from the same side. "I'm saying if we give them a reason to attack, we can't legally defend ourselves."

  Warren glanced about from face to face, looking for the punchline that wasn't there. He spun to Lincoln. "Is she serious right now?"

  Lincoln simply scratched his chin and shrugged, letting Simone speak for herself.

  "These are protected peoples," Simone continued. "If we start shooting them, the Peruvian government will be all over us, and we're already here on false pretenses. The last thing we want to do is cause a very loud and very violent problem that could easily be avoided."

  Warren looked to Vincent for some backup, not yet removing his assault rifle from his grip.

  "I'm afraid she's right," Vincent said. "Best bet is to pass through peacefully."

  Setting his jaw, Warren shrugged off his pack and put his weapon away with great reluctance. "There are all sorts of threats in this jungle," he said, the words souring on his tongue. "And they won't all care that we're looking to simply pass through in peace."

  In one smooth motion, Simone reached back with one arm, and when it came forward with a swift and sure movement, the handle of the machete was gripped tightly in her fingers.

  She didn't have to say anything else to make the point clear.

  The path ran parallel to the river, taking the group further west than if they had gone straight up and over the hills and through the untouched chaos of jungle vines. The longer path was the quicker route.

  Parts of the path had been neglected for some time and the jungle allowed to encroach on it, consuming giant sections of the path, with trees and roots and branches reaching straight down into the water in the areas of heaviest overgrowth.

  Simone hacked away with Vincent and April, while Lincoln and Warren cleared away the severed branches and Iris tried to keep the tablet working.

  "What's wrong?" Lincoln asked when he saw her looking from the tablet to the sky and back again.

  "Something with the signal. It should work, even out here. I'm not sure why..." she trailed off as her thoughts focused solely on getting the device to function properly.

  Simone took a breather, lifting her boonie hat to wipe away the sweat dripping down her face.

  "Might be easier to go around," Vincent said. "Quicker, too."

  Simone cast her eyes down to the murky brown water, opaque, impossible to see through. Anything at all could be living in there. When she lifted her head to lock eyes with Lincoln, she saw on his face the same hesitation she felt in her heart. She knew just then that his thoughts also centered on the encounter with crocodiles in Mexico nearly three years back.

  "What do you say?" she asked Lincoln, the man tasked to lead. Even though she was at the vanguard of the party's advancement through the jungle, it wasn't her decision to make.

  He wrestled with the idea for a moment before saying, "We can't waste daylight if we're not making progress."

  "Aye," Vincent said in agreement.

  "Let's make it quick," Lincoln said as he stepped through the group and waded into the water.

  The river at that depth near the bank alternated between knee and waist level. All parties lifted their packs higher on their backs to avoid soaking them in the waters of the Utcubamba.

  With her heart in her throat, Simone trudged slowly through the river, careful about not causing too much of a disturbance, although some was inevitable when a party of half a dozen were on the move.

  The path was blocked for a long stretch, so long that she glanced back at one point and could no longer see the point they had entered the water. Looking ahead, she couldn't see a point to exit. All of a sudden it didn't seem that being in the river was the best idea.

  No sooner did the thought cross her mind than a break in the thick growth was spotted up ahead.

  The team took a moment to collect themselves on the riverbank. Simone watched the water, wondering if it posed as great a danger as she had thought. As she stood there adjusting the pack on her back and readying her machete once more, she remembered what had allowed her to remain alive for so long in areas of the world just as treacherous, and that was being careful.

  With a deep breath, she moved to the front, ready to make the most of the remaining daylight.

  As she passed through the gathering of others, she noticed Warren consulting with Iris over the display on the tablet.

  "Exactly how much further?" he asked.

  Nine kilometers, Simone said to herself.

  Iris studied the display, her face scrunched in confusion. "Blasted thing only works half the time." After another moment of frustration over the device, Iris's eyes lit up. "There," she said. "About ten more miles around the river. We'll be at the mountain pass by nightfall."

  Simone continued onward, dwelling only on their mission to keep her head clear. According to Clark's satellite imaging, the most likely spot the meteorite would be found was on top of a mountain precipice further along the river. It was not a sure thing, but nothing Simone had ever located had been a sure thing. All she needed was to be pointed in the right direction, and if it truly lay ahead, she'd find it.

  Back on solid ground, hacking through the jungle growth, Simone made quick work with the machete, clearing the path that obviously had not been used in quite a long time.

  The sun had begun to descend, heralding the inevitable nightfall. Simone's best guess was that they still had a few hours to work with before they'd have to stop to make camp for the night.

  The pack was growing heavy on her back, and the effort to clear the path of stubborn vines and thick branches proved to be an obstacle that might best be avoided.

  Pausing to wipe sweat from her face once again, Simone took the opportunity to sip from her canteen and take a quick breather.

  Vincent took a few more
swings with his machete before halting. “Stubborn, she is. Mother nature.”

  Simone wiped her mouth and screwed the lid on her canteen. “It's times like these when you realize who's really in control.”

  “This meteorite couldn't have fallen in a more accessible area?” he joked. “She's making us work for it. And we have to climb a mountain, still.”

  “If it was easy, anyone could do it,” Simone said. “So, consider us lucky that no one could just walk right up to it and take it.”

  “Suppose we get up there and it isn't there,” Vincent said. “What then?”

  “Then we better get there before anyone else.” With that, Simone looked to the group at large. “It's too thick here. We'll be hacking away until dark.”

  Lincoln threw her a glance. “We'll go around.”

  The team waded into the river again, careful of their footing, of the blessedly gentle current, of getting their gear wet.

  Iris was still fiddling with the tablet. “We must be pretty deep into the jungle because I can't get anything to work on this blasted thing.”

  Vincent peered over his shoulder at Iris. “And we're only going deeper,” he said as the river water was now up to his chest.

  April turned a furrowed brow to Vincent, who made his way alongside her. “Did you feel that?” she asked in a low voice as if to maintain a sense of calm in the others.

  Simone froze in place. “Feel what?” As badly as she wanted to move, the thought of agitating whatever may or may not have been passing through under the river's surface prevented her from chancing one more step.

  “What's wrong?” Lincoln asked when he caught up to Simone.

  “I thought I felt something move under my foot,” April said to him. “Could have been nothing.”

  Simone cursed mentally, hoping this was all a sick joke on April's part.

  Perhaps it was a continuation of the perceived mind games she’d been playing the night before, insinuating that Iris and possibly the entire British crew were not working toward the same goal.