Angel of Death - Debt Collector 5 (A Jack Winchester Thriller)

by Jon Mills

After another half an hour of hacking their way through jungle that looked as if it had been untouched and unvisited by anyone, they came out onto a trail. They could see bamboo lodges between the trees and they could hear voices.

  “Where’s this trail go?”

  “Back to the river.”

  Jack frowned. “Are you telling me we could have avoided the dense area of jungle we came through?”

  “Of course but it would have added another hour onto our time. We took the shortcut.”

  “The shortcut. Right,” Jack said, shaking his head. In their journey together, Jack had made it clear as to why he was there and what the situation was. He’d given Jose the option of taking him near the camp and then turning back but he refused. He said it was better that he remained at Jack’s side. If he did manage to get the girl out, they would need someone to guide them back out of the jungle.

  “Last chance, Jose.”

  “Enough, Jack Winchester. I’ve made my choice.”

  As they came up to where the lodge was, there was no wall around the camp, which might have struck others as odd because if someone was being held there and they wanted to escape, why not run? Jose said that no camp needed walls. The jungle in itself was a wall full of danger. But it wasn’t just that. The wall existed in the mind of the individual. Jack knew what it was like to be part of a group but wanting to break away. It was as much a struggle of the mind as it was physical.

  John Dalton broke it down over the phone before he left for Peru. Jack’s mind drifted back to that conversation.

  “It’s easy to condition the mind, Jack. From an early age we are instructed on what to do, say and how to think about the world around us by our parents. We are then conditioned by our teachers in school in preparation to listen to those who we will eventually work for. It doesn’t take much to form false beliefs about oneself, others and the world around. We are a product of our upbringing, our society and the world at large. All it takes is a small amount of pressure from outside to press up against those beliefs that have been formed and we either fight back or flee. Very few open their minds to allow new thoughts, new ways of living or alternatives to what they believe.”

  Much of what Dalton said went over Jack’s head but he kind of got the gist when he compared it to his time in the mob. He had grown up around those who saw murder and extortion as everyday events. It was normal. He embraced that normality and to those closest, what he did for a living was acceptable. To those outside of his circle, he was an animal and a butcher. Hence the reason he was nicknamed “The Butcher of New Jersey.”

  But Eddie saw something else. He saw what lay beneath years of conditioning. He saw the person that Jack could become if given the chance.

  Before Jack got close to the camp, he took out a waterproof bag and placed the Glock inside. He stashed it in an area that would be easy to remember, at the foot of a large tree behind a thick root. He covered it in leaves and some loose soil.

  As they got closer to the lodges, several men came out to meet them. They weren’t carrying weapons and they didn’t appear to be hostile.

  “Hello there,” one of them said. “Can we help you?”

  “Yes, I’m Jack and this Jose, I was told you are one of several camps offering alternative forms of healing?”

  One of the men whispered into the other guy’s ear and he jogged back into their camp. The other one stood there studying them.

  “Where did you come from?” he asked.

  “Cusco.”

  A minute or two later the same man returned with another. The man’s smile immediately put Jack at ease. These men were nothing like the stone-faced New Yorkers he was accustomed to. The man they had returned with was dressed in white shorts and a white shirt with several beads around his neck. He and the others looked like hippies to Jack.

  “Afternoon.” The man extended his hand. “I’m Eric Castillo. Most just call me Castillo. Welcome to our sanctuary. How did you hear about us?”

  “Through Refugio Amazonas.”

  He nodded, his eyes darting between them. “Ah, they referred you here?”

  “Well, I had enquired as to different healing centers in the area. I’m keen to experience various forms of healing.”

  “For what may I ask?”

  Jack didn’t even hesitate.

  “For my past.”

  He never replied, he simply looked into Jack’s eyes and kept his hands clasped behind his back. At no point did Jack sense that he was a threat.

  “And you are?”

  “Jose is my guide.”

  “We rarely take on new intakes as we have only so much space here.”

  “Understood. We can come back another time,” Jack said.

  “Hold on. I didn’t say we wouldn’t take you in. Just…” he trailed off as if trying to find the words. He nodded. “Come. Let us get you some refreshments and learn about you… what was your name?”

  “Jack. Jack Winchester.”

  Before they were allowed to enter, he had his men pat both of them down. When asked why that was necessary, Castillo said it was precautions. He didn’t expand upon that.

  Castillo led them into the lodge. It was constructed very much like the previous center they had just come from. Lodgings raised up off the ground, a wooden walkway that connected them all. The huts were around the outside like a bicycle wheel with the walkway like spokes joining in the middle. At the center was a large scorched pit that they must have used as a place to cook food at night. A short distance away was the river. As he brought them into the camp the eyes of the men and women gazed upon them. A few had young ones that rushed around giggling.

  “You accept children into your program?”

  “Age is just a number. We are all children here, Jack.”

  Jack scanned the area for Danielle but couldn’t see her. There were quite a lot of people there of all different age brackets. Young, old and those in the middle of their lives.

  “It’s a nice place you have here. Where were you before this?”

  Castillo looked back at him.

  “We are from all over the USA but our central location is in Chicago. You?”

  “New York but I live on the road.”

  “Interesting. Adventure or restless?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Which one is it?”

  Jack sniffed. “I guess a little of both.”

  They were led into a large lodge with a very open concept. Windows were wooden shutters that were dropped down or propped open.

  “Tahlia, could you bring us some cold drinks, please?” he said to one of the women who was sitting with four children and reading to them. She got up and went into a back room while they took a seat on a couch made from wicker material. In front of them was a thick oak table a little lower than knee level. On it was a bowl of tropical fruit, and some magazines about herbs. When Tahlia returned she was carrying a tray with a large jug of lemonade. After being served he leaned back and looked over at Castillo. Since Jack had stepped inside he had been assessing the threat level. None of them looked threatening. It had become a habit. In years gone by when he would accompany his boss to meetings with different crime families, his job was to keep Gafino safe. Sometimes they had seconds to decide if a meeting was going to go south.

  “So, Jack. Tell me about yourself.”

  “Not much to say really.”

  He smiled. “There are many layers to us all, Jack. What brings you here?”

  “Like I said—”

  “Healing, yes, but from what in your past?”

  “Personal demons.”

  “Drugs? Abuse? Spiritual discontentment? Physical pain?”

  Jack hadn’t really thought through what he was going to say, he thought generalities would suffice. Castillo must have been able to see his hesitation.

  “It’s okay, not everyone is able to put into words what they are trying to deal with. You see, life has a way of hardening us. But that’s where the medicine can
help unravel and provide answers to those questions you have.”

  Jack nodded and sipped at his drink. The cool lemonade was like heaven to his parched throat.

  “And you, Jose?”

  He flung his hands up. “I’m just a guide.”

  Castillo motioned to Tahlia. She went away and returned with a box full of Cuban cigars.

  “Would you like?”

  “I’m good,” Jack said.

  Castillo continued to talk as he nipped the end of his cigar and lit it, turning it ever so slowly.

  “I don’t know what other healing centers you have visited but we do things a little different here. It’s our belief that the medicine will unearth the things you have buried or wish to block out. This evening we are having another ceremony where we will partake of the holy medicine. It would be my pleasure if you would stay and join us. That’s if you don’t have any other agenda?”

  He said it in a way as if he could perceive there was something more to Jack’s visit.

  “We’d be delighted.”

  “Good. Feel free to browse. Tahlia will show you to your room.”

  He got up to leave but turned back. “If after this evening you wish to stay, there are certain rules that we ask everyone to abide by. Certainly if you decide this is not the place for you, then you are free to leave in the morning.”

  “What are those rules?”

  “Ah, we’ll get to that once we see how you do this evening.”

  Jack wanted to enquire about Danielle but in the chance that it might jeopardize her life and without knowing more about the group, he wasn’t ready to probe.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  It was pitch-dark outside. The glow of the fire made everyone look orange. Some of the men had their tops off; women huddled in groups while others looked after the children. Everyone was involved from the youngest to the oldest.

  Most of the day Jack had been keeping his eyes out for Danielle but he didn’t see her. He was beginning to wonder if he she was even here. Had her father made a mistake? Had she already escaped or worse — was she dead?

  “Have you ever had ayahuasca before?” Castillo asked.

  Jack shook his head. He’d smoked weed, that was about the extent of his experimentation into anything that could mess with his mind. He preferred to stay clearheaded. In his line of business, getting hooked on anything could have been a death sentence. He had seen guys dabble in heroin and all manner of things. It destroyed their lives. Jose had explained that ayahuasca was nothing like the drugs that people took to get high. It was used by shamans to guide people towards healing. While he had heard of people abusing it, it was uncommon.

  Jack watched as they prepared it. One of them used a hatchet to hack away at a large chunk of Banisteriopsis caapi vine. Once that was done they broke it down into fine splinters, no bigger than kindling used to start a fire. Others began tearing it apart and placing it inside a large cauldron. Then, they mixed in several Psychotria viridis leaves. After it was all soaked in water, they continued filling the cauldron until it was full. Finally, they started a fire beneath it and allowed it to brew for four hours. The aroma that came off it was awful.

  Jack was chatting with one of the men from the camp when he caught sight of her. Danielle came out of a hut just down from where they were looking after some of the kids. If it hadn’t been for the light that came from a fire torch he wouldn’t have recognized her. She was dressed in a white gown with a brown band around it. Her black hair was tied back in a loose ponytail. He only caught sight of her for a few seconds before she disappeared inside.

  He was about to go over there when Castillo called out to him to join him down by the water. He and several others were going through a ritual they did before the ceremony where they burned white sage and blew it over the bodies of those who would be taking the holy medicine.

  Before he knew what was happening they had his top off and several of the women were covering his body in some kind of paint.

  “What is this for?”

  “It helps with the journey.”

  “Journey?”

  He really had no idea what he was in for but he just went along with it. This seemed like a walk in the park compared to going up against a group of armed men. As he was stripped and covered from head to toe, his eyes drifted back to the hut. Castillo went around each of the people and blew white sage smoke in their faces while chanting something. It seemed like a whole lot of woo-woo to him. He almost felt sorry for these people. What on earth had got into them to throw away their lives and follow a madman into the jungle?

  Once the brew was ready, they all sat a short distance away from the fire on logs and were handed a cup each. Jack looked down into the blackness that had tinges of green. In the dark it just resembled black coffee. Encouraged to drink it slowly, he knocked it back and swallowed hard. The taste was slightly bitter, earthy with the flavor of wood. Its consistency was just a little thicker than coffee itself. He was told after he consumed it that he wasn’t meant to drink it all in one go. It was to be consumed a little at a time. He shrugged. Other than the bad taste he didn’t know what the big deal was.

  One hour later he had wished he hadn’t taken it.

  At first the experience didn’t seem so bad. In the first twenty minutes with his eyes open Jack began to perceive the texture of reality as much brighter, and full of color. It was as if the whole world around him, even the air itself, looked different. Quickly geometric patterns started to emerge in front of him, swirling, twisting and intertwining as well as flowing. It was astonishingly beautiful and yet overwhelming at the same time. He widened his eyes and then closed them tightly as he got the sense that life itself was looking back at him. Closing his eyes only made it more intense, so he tried to keep them open.

  All sense of time started to disappear. He couldn’t tell how long he had been sitting there. The sound of the forest increased and it seemed as if he could hear the heartbeats of a hundred animals.

  Around him he could still see everyone. A drum was being played and Castillo and several others were chanting, while someone sang softly. Slowly a feeling came over Jack as if he had died. All awareness that was tied to his body ended as he began having visions of the past and the future.

  As this was happening he could feel himself becoming gradually even more nauseated than before. Within a matter of an hour he was vomiting hard into a bucket. He’d been told that this would happen. It was called la purga which meant the cleansing of the mind and body. Jack’s body lurched as his stomach screamed and he began to sweat hard. Over and over he tossed up a greasy gunk that didn’t even look like vomit.

  Then things really took off.

  The visualizations intensified and bombarded him from every direction so fast that he felt as though he was spinning on a wheel. He felt emotions of fear, rage, sadness, love, peace and everything in between. One moment he thought he had managed to control it, the next he went over an invisible edge like on a roller coaster and was petrified.

  No longer did he feel as though he was connected to his body, the room or even the world around him. It was as if he had merged with some cosmic soup. He could see in every direction and feel all the emotions he had ever had in his life all at once.

  Then it got even worse. It wasn’t that it was scary in as much as it was shocking. He began to see the faces of those he had killed, and feel the loss of those left behind. It was as if he was experiencing his own personal hell.

  All he wanted was for it to stop but it wouldn’t. It would continue for another three hours taking him into new depths of horror. All of which seemed to be a reflection of his own inner self. As if someone had turned him inside out and he was witnessing the effects of all he had done up until this point in his life. He saw Eddie Carmine, Gafino and his stepfather. He experienced the deep sense of loneliness and feeling lost that he had when he was a child. He no longer remembered that he was here to save a woman by the name of Danielle, all he could thin
k about was how to stop what seemed like a hard cycle on a carousel that didn’t feel like it would end.

  Jack’s eyes opened and he was clinging to a puke bucket and witnessing Castillo dancing around with a light in his hand. The small flame that he held seemed massive against the backdrop of darkness.

  For the first time in his life he found himself crying out for help but the words never came out. It was as if there was a disconnect between his thoughts and tongue. Someone came over and placed a blanket around him and that immediately made him feel relaxed. He couldn’t see who they were as his head was down but he felt a sense of love and relief from the madness that he was unable to control.

  That was when the experience changed from bad to something good. Like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders, and someone, somewhere was allowing him to see and feel what it was like to not carry the burden of life and his past.

  He began to feel a deep connection to the earth and life itself. He felt empathy for the world around him and began to feel at some deeper level the interconnectedness of the world. It was as if life revealed itself as being like fabric woven together, connected in every facet of what we believed to be separate.

  It was hard to tell when it was over. Jack lay with his back against the earth looking up into the night sky. He wasn’t alone and for the first time in his life he didn’t feel the urge to be anywhere else. It was as if things made sense. How could he have been so blind to the world around him and to the pain of others? How could he have been so foolish to be driven to gain that which didn’t last?

  How long he lay there was unknown. But eventually he was helped up and guided back to a hut where he settled in for the night.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  By the time Isabel made it to Puerto Maldonado and found an interpreter and guide, she was pissed. The guy she sat beside in first class dropped his drink on her, the airline had lost her luggage and Thorpe had been second-guessing his decision to send her to Peru. She now had a raging headache and mosquitoes were eating her alive.