Simone swallowed the lump in her throat and slowly continued on, gripping the machete a little bit tighter as she went.
“I've about given up,” Iris said. “Might as well chuck the damn thing in the river.”
“We don't need it,” Simone said. “I know where we have to go.”
“Done your research, aye?” Vincent asked, wading alongside Simone, matching her pace.
Her eyes shifted toward his with a look that silently asked if he had not done the same.
Simone detected a hint of inexperience, and an unsettling feeling grew in the pit of her stomach.
She wanted to ask him directly, but if there was indeed a charade going on, she knew she wouldn't get a direct answer.
“I couldn't sleep,” she said instead. “Historically, I don't sleep well before expeditions. Had to pass the time somehow.”
“Good use of it, I'd say.” Vincent looked ahead, watching the river for the next spot they could exit.
“What about you?” she asked Vincent, but her gaze went past him, onto April who had stopped moving. She stood still, staring into the water with limbs defensively rigid.
“Me?” Vincent said. “I slept like the dead.”
He caught Simone looking over his shoulder. He turned to see what she was staring at.
“April,” Simone said in the most casual voice she could muster as she wrestled with her own paralyzing fear.
April did not respond. But she took another step – only one step – cautious about where her foot was going and what might be under it.
“April,” Simone said through clenched teeth.
April turned to her.
With a nod of her head in the direction of the riverbank, Simone said, “Let's go.”
April gave a nod and drew a reassuring breath, and continued toward the riverbank with great apprehension.
“What's with her?” Vincent asked as they started onward.
Simone wasn't sure how to answer. It had to be a trick. April never showed signs of fear before Simone. It was possible something spooked her for real, but Simone couldn't say for sure one way or another.
“It's probably nothing,” Simone said. Nothing but a twisted game.
The gradually dying light made seeing below the water's murky surface even more impossible than before. If April was playing a trick on Simone, there was no better time to do it.
Simone exhaled a frustrated sigh. It felt as if nothing had changed since they'd last seen each other – her and April. Nothing except the fact that April was less keen on telling her exactly how she felt.
“Up ahead,” Lincoln called and pointed toward the nearest spot to exit the river. “We should make camp before we lose any more daylight.”
“Agreed,” Vincent added.
Iris came up beside him. “I'll see if I can get word back to Florida,” she said. “Best to stay in contact if we still can.”
“Agreed,” Vincent added again.
Iris held out the tablet. “This must be waterlogged or –”
Before she could utter another word, she disappeared, dragged under the water's surface by a tremendous force.
“Iris!”
Vincent felt under the water but she was no longer there. The tablet surfaced, bobbing in the water, but no Iris.
Simone shrugged off her pack and hurried over to where Iris went under. “What happened?” she called.
The group was thrown instantly on high alert. Lincoln doubled back as quickly as he could. Warren fumbled in his pack for his gun.
Without wasting another moment, Simone dove under the waters.
“Simone, wait!” Lincoln's protest echoed over the river but it was no use. Simone was already under.
She came up for air after what felt like minutes.
“Simone!” Vincent said. “What happened? Where is she?”
Spitting out muddy river water, Simone brushed her hair back and caught her breath. “I don't know. I can't see anything. Not a damn thing.”
A thrashing disturbance in the water drew all attention.
“There!” someone shouted over the chaos.
A hand, reaching up from below, grasping in desperation for anything at all.
Simone swam toward the movement, machete in hand.
Just before she was within reach, Iris emerged. Head above the water, arm sticking out as if crawling from a grave.
Her eyes were wide and terror-stricken. Something held her down by one shoulder.
She coughed, gagged, and finally choked out the words, “Help! Please help me!”
Before she could take another breath, the slithering mass coiled around her neck and pulled her down below, silencing her desperate pleas.
9.
Utcubamba River, Peru
"Iris!"
Simone dove under the water again, reaching desperately for the creature that held Iris under the surface.
That creature, Simone knew as soon as she saw it, was a Green Anaconda.
The largest, heaviest, and longest snake in South America, the monster snake would drown Iris if Simone didn't act fast.
She reached her hand all over but could not locate the snake or its prey.
Springing up to the surface, Simone gasped for breath and instantly heard the commotion among the crew.
"Do you see it?" The urgency in Simone's voice cut through all others. "Do you see her?"
A silence fell over still water. There was no voice, no movement.
Until --
Iris broke through the surface again, desperate for breath. The snake was wrapped around her chest. She tried to scream but dropped below before her panic could be heard.
Simone dove under yet again, kicking and swimming blindly toward the spot where Iris was last seen.
The snake was all muscle. There was no chance Iris would get free unless the snake wanted her free. Or unless Simone did something.
She stopped suddenly, feeling the tail end of the anaconda brush past. Thinking quickly, she grabbed for it with her free hand, readying the machete in the other.
Simone was working blind, unable to see through the murky water. She kept her eyes shut, focusing instead on her other senses. She listened for movement, grasping with her hand after the anaconda.
Finally, she took hold. Before the creature could shake out of Simone's grip, she brought the machete's blade down on the snake's skin.
She tasted blood in the water.
A struggle grew just ahead. Thrashing and shouting were heard above. Others rushed to the source of the chaos.
Simone sprang up, gulping for air. The river in that spot was too deep to stand. She spun to where Vincent and April were pulling Iris toward shore.
She was free.
Simone swam after them, but her foot was caught. She tugged, but the more she fought, the tighter the grasp became.
With one last huge effort, Simone kicked with her free foot, breaking loose from the grip of whatever was holding her down. She didn't have to look back to see what it was. She knew.
As she swam, she spotted Lincoln waiting for her ahead, halfway between her and the shore.
"Go!" she yelled.
But he didn't budge.
"Go--"
River water rushed down her throat and a muffled darkness consumed her.
Simone coughed up the muddy water but more flooded in. She had little breath. Her lungs begged for air. The tight grasp around her leg slithered up to her waist and then to her chest and neck, tightening even more like a vice she couldn't stop.
The arm with the machete was pinned to her side, unable to swing in defense. In a desperate attempt, Simone dropped the blade and groped for it with her free hand, still unable to see. She hoped and prayed it landed in her hand...
She tightened her fist as soon as the metal hit her fingers. A sharp pain tore through her hand, but she held the machete. The risk of grabbing the blade outweighed the risk of losing it.
Boots trod water around her, multiple pairs. T
he anaconda's constriction tightened more as both she and the snake were jostled back and forth.
With her teeth clenched tightly against the desire to gasp for a breath, Simone raised the machete in the direction she thought was up. The kicking of boots guided her. She raised the machete out of the water and held it there.
Less than one second passed until it was taken from her grip. She heard the thudding of the hacking blade against the meat of the anaconda.
The snake must have been in agony because the strangling hold it had on Simone slipped, if only for the briefest of moments, but that minuscule opportunity was just enough for Simone to struggle free.
She freed her leg first, then her arm. But the constriction still held across her stomach and chest, and it grew tighter as the snake fought for its own life.
Simone couldn't breathe if she wanted to. Her lungs burned from oxygen deprivation. She could feel her lower ribs bending inward, pressing against her internal organs.
Her toes brushed bottom. Simone pushed as much as she could, just enough to raise the crown of her head out of the water.
Pushing the snake away from her body as the others pulled, Simone was almost free.
A hand grasped hers. She tightened her fingers and, inch by inch, was pulled upward.
Her mouth was still not free of the water. She reached her head up as much as she could until her nose was sticking out of the water, and she drew a life-saving breath of air.
The moment her lungs found that vital breath, she was plunged into the water once again.
The anaconda tumbled in a chaotic roll, desperate to live, desperate to hold on to Simone.
Flashes of Dubai filled her thoughts in a cloudy vision of mortality. She swore she could hear the glass aquarium wall shattering all over again, and the water rushing around her just then only served to solidify that terrifying vision into an imminent promise.
Simone knew what it felt like to drown. She was feeling it all over again.
Try as they might, no one from the crew could release her from the anaconda's vice-like grasp.
Tumbling still, the side of her foot slammed into the bottom of the river. With her heart beating wildly, she pushed again off the bottom, sending both her and the snake up to the surface.
She gasped for air before she was even out of the water. Choking down another gulp of the Utcubamba, Simone fought through it until she could breathe another breath.
"Watch out!" someone shouted, and the ear-splitting report of automatic gunfire thundered at close range.
Through hazy vision and ringing ears, Simone saw the river run red all around her.
A lightness came over her, as if her limbs weighed nothing. She could breathe again, but couldn't sense the water flowing all around.
Have I been shot?
She wondered as her senses returned to her. The ringing in her ears faded, and the blood pumped freely from a heart no longer constricted. She had not been shot, but she had been closer to death than she liked to consider.
She wiped the water from her eyes and blinked until she could see Warren standing in front of her, holding a smoking assault rifle.
"I'll be keeping this out," he said with a stone-cold seriousness that was reflected in the stare he held on Simone.
Chest heaving, Simone turned to where Lincoln stood, holding out the machete for her to take.
"Thanks." She grabbed the handle of the weapon in the hand that wasn't bleeding from having grabbed the blade.
The group in the water gathered where Vincent and April were tending to Iris on the bank of the river. Simone sat down beside Iris, dripping wet and still bleeding.
"I owe you," Iris said to her.
"Don't mention it." Simone turned her hand up to see how bad the laceration on her palm was. The gash was long, running from the base of her index finger down to her wrist in a diagonal line. It bled worse than it felt.
Vincent brought her a clean bandage from his med kit. "You've got guts," he said.
"Some would say too many," she joked.
"You feeling all right? You nearly drowned." He poured some clean water over the wound.
As Simone dried and dressed her hand, she wondered what would have happened if she hadn't spent so much time getting over her fear of water, of drowning again. All the breathing and holding of breath she had practiced might have just saved her life.
She drew a deep breath. The sensation of her lungs filling with air felt sweeter than ever. "I'll live," she said, fumbling with the bandages.
Vincent took over, finishing the bandaging. "Good as new," he said with a smile.
Simone flexed her fingers into a fist and straightened them out again. Adrenaline was wearing off and she could feel a mild pain settling in, but it was a small price to pay for living another day.
April stepped up to Iris, holding the dripping-wet tablet between them. "Don't know if you wanted this."
Iris grimaced as she took the ruined device. "Only worked half the time, anyway."
Simone looked to her. "Don't worry. We'll get there."
"You trust old maps?" Iris asked with a skepticism impossible to hide. "Maps that haven't likely been updated in ages, based on outdated technology?"
"More than I trust that." Simone indicated the waterlogged electronic device in Iris's hand. "Besides, we saw the satellite readout on the flight."
Iris held up the tablet. "This device would give us real-time updates with specific details of our surroundings that weren't available on the satellite imaging. Without it, we're left to guess at where the meteorite might have landed, which could lead us a dozen kilometers off course, if not more."
"We have to work with what we have," Simone said matter-of-factly. She saw no value in dwelling on what was out of their control.
With her disappointment evident, Iris let the tablet fall into the dirt. She pushed herself up to her feet and marched away.
_____
The party pressed on for another kilometer until the fading light of day forced them to stop and make camp as the thick shadows of the jungle deepened around them.
A fire was started even though the temperature had hardly changed from earlier that day. It was partly to give the party some light, and partly to ward off larger predators.
Humidity hung in the air, damp and oppressive. Sweat dripped down Simone's legs, down her arms, down her cheeks. Her hair was saturated not from her spill in the river but from sheer perspiration. A part of her wished to jump back into the river for a quick, cleansing bath. Another part of her thought of the sensation she felt as the Green Anaconda tightened around her chest.
Staring into the fire, she drew a deep breath out of sheer reflex. Her hand went to her side, fingers running along her ribs. She considered it a miracle that she made it out of the constriction relatively unharmed. If she had broken a rib, she wasn't sure she'd manage the expedition up the mountain and back down again.
The orange glow of sparks danced in the green of her eyes. The campsite grew quiet as the others called it a night. Tomorrow would bring another early start, another grueling stretch of terrain to cross, and no more certainty that they were on the right track than they had at the moment.
Simone's eyelids grew heavy. She considered sleep.
Before she could turn away from the entrancing glow of the burning fire, Vincent came around to stare at the same flames.
"Amazing, isn't it?" He tilted his head to follow the trail of burning sparks into the darkness above. "They remind me of little stars, burning out as we once did."
Simone shifted a confused gaze to Vincent.
Staring up, he continued, "Our bodies are made of the same elements as the stars. We came from the sky, and we'll return there once again." He turned then to Simone. "In time."
Simone stared into the hot coals of the fire and considered Vincent's words. The heavens seemed so far away. She felt like one of the sparks dancing upward in the night breeze before fading into nothingness. Hardly a blip in the
grand scheme. Born from a great fire but extinguished before it could become anything greater – like her squashed Olympic dreams.
She turned her eyes upward, gazing at the stars, at celestial bodies of such unfathomable might and power, too far away to ever reach, like the dying spark racing up from the flames. It, too, would never make it.
She drew another long breath, acutely aware of her own mortality, a mortality she had faced head-on in Dubai. If only for a fleeting moment, she had been on her way back to the stars.
There was something about the incident with the snake that unnerved her in a way she couldn't define. It had dislodged some hidden fear, some primal survival instinct that lived deep inside. She'd taken so many risks in her past, even her recent past, that could have killed her. That should have killed her. The Green Anaconda was but one of those many instances.
Maybe Michaela was right, she thought to herself. I have to be more careful.
"Ancient civilizations would navigate by the stars," Vincent said. "They would orient their temples by the stars, their religions, their way of life. The same ones we're looking at tonight." He turned his gaze upward once again and shook his head in sheer wonder. "The stars, guiding their own ancestors – our own ancestors. Truly amazing to think about."
"It really is." Simone kept her reply brief. She still wasn't sure if this guy could be trusted -- if any of the British trio could be trusted. "I'm going to sleep."
"Very well," said Vincent. "I might as well do the same. Before you know it, it'll be morning."
"In not much time at all," she said. "It's probably best to make the most of it."
Simone got up and turned away from the fire's glow, stepping into the night.
10.
Chachapoyas, Amazonas, Peru
The group trekked up the mountainside in the first light of day.
Another hot day greeted them as they hiked further onward and upward. A winding path lay before them, blessedly flat in parts, perilously steep in others. With each switchback, Simone could feel a palpable tension as the team held its collective breath, waiting to see what terrain greeted them on the other side.
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