by Paul Heron
‘Take care. We have to go now, but thank you for your hospitality.’
‘Thank you, Michael. We’ll always be grateful for what you did for us,’ she said. ‘I have something for you. Wait here.’ She headed towards her house.
Abbe ran to his father, he looked excited with what was happening.
Michael followed Abbe towards his father and the group of defensive tribesmen who were lingering around Abbe’s house. He shook each of their hands. ‘Thank you all, again, for helping us in the jungle. We need to go now.’
‘Abbe said you need to use our canoes? Take them. We’re sorry we can’t help more,’ Abbe’s father said.
‘Thank you.’
‘You can’t do anything without food in your stomach.’ Babette handed a basket to Michael, then kissed him on the cheek.
‘Thank you.’
‘Is that grub for everyone? I’m starved,’ Mohammad shouted.
‘Who is that man?’ Babette asked.
‘He’s a brilliant man,’ Michael laughed. ‘Yes, Mohammad, we’ll share.’
As they left the village, Callie ran from her house calling after Michael.
‘Here are your dry clothes,’ she said.
Michael was still wearing his borrowed white tunic, while the others were in their camouflage suits.
‘And also, my grandmother and I made this for you. I hope you remember us,’ she handed him a white woollen jumper and a white scarf.
Michael humbly accepted. ‘Callie, thank you. One day, I’ll return with a gift from Ireland. Tell Aaliyah thanks, too.’
Callie looked at Abbe, who was standing beside Eduardo. ‘Come here, Abbe. Give your big sister a hug.’
He went to her.
She kissed him on top of his head while he squeezed her tightly. ‘You be careful. And when it’s safe, you come back!’ She kissed him on the cheek, ‘come back or I’ll come looking for you. I don’t care how far I have to come, okay?’
She looked at Michael, and then at the rest. ‘Take care of him.’
‘We will,’ Sofia said.
Chapter Thirteen
THE SUN HAD SAID GOODNIGHT to Mexico for another day. They all left on what would be the last stretch. There was a powerful cocktail of emotions: anxiety and excitement in anticipation for their trek through the jungle. And of course, what lay beyond that. That’s what they all feared, but had to face. No other choice. At least they were together. Whatever happened, they’d have eachother.
Michael, Marcel, and Eduardo each carried a canoe. That was proof of how generous the Mayan people were. They didn’t have much, but what they did have, they shared.
‘What did Ajit say when you spoke to him, Eduardo?’ Sofia asked.
‘He said they’re waiting for us to tell them when we’re ready. So, when we get close to la Frontera Corozal, I’ll call him. Hopefully by then, he and Larry will be finished with the transmission equipment.’
With a canoe under his left arm, Marcel put his right arm around Carolina, who was quieter than usual. Her posture less confident, her eyes facing down towards the ground. ‘Hey, remember, we’re a team. Whatever happens, happens to all of us. Together.’
She grunted, but kissed him on the cheek.
‘Through this way, we follow the path for eight kilometres and we will find the river,’ Abbe said.
Michael kept a discreet eye on Eduardo. It was clear he’d experienced something while he was held hostage at the camp. Something he couldn’t talk about yet. The expression he saw on Eduardo’s face earlier, when he’d ripped off his shirt, was similar to the expression he saw on Abbe’s face when he thought he wasn’t going to get away from the detention camp - the look of a broken soul.
As they marched on, led by Michael and Abbe - Michael guiding Abbe with his night-vision – the sound of snapping twigs and rustling of nocturnal animals brought the jungle to life.
They walked for three hours. Everyone exhausted. Especially Michael, Marcel, and Eduardo, from carrying the canoes.
Mohammad started to panic, startling everyone. ‘What’s happening to my vision?’
‘Stop grabbing me!’ Sofia shouted, throwing Mohammad’s flying hands off her. ‘Get off!’
‘I can’t see a thing!’ he cried.
Everyone hurried to examine his eyes. Wondering what the hell had happened to him.
He stood with his arms outstretched, feeling around for his surroundings. ‘I can’t see a bloody thing!’
‘Here.’ Michael handed him his night-vision goggles. ‘It must be the battery.’
‘Great, at least I'm not going blind,’ Mohammad mumbled sarcastically as he planted himself down on the ground, followed by the rest.
‘I’m exhausted,’ Sofia gasped, wiping sweat from her face.
‘It’s not far from here,’ Abbe said. ‘Probably another hour on foot until we reach the river, then just six more hours on the canoe until La Frontera Corozal.’
‘How do you know all this?’ Marcel asked, both curious and suspicious.
‘Because, we’re using Sirani Maps.’ Sofia gave Marcel a cheeky slap on the arm as he planted himself down beside her.
‘Shut up!’
‘You shut up!’ Sofia teased, throwing a twig at him.
‘Both of you shut up, I’m trying to sleep for a minute,’ Mohammad mumbled, sprawled across the jungle floor, feet crossed, and hands joined behind his head.
‘But how, Abbe, how do you know where we are going?’ Eduardo repeated Marcel’s question.
‘I’ve been to Bonampak before. With my father, my grandfather, and others. We’ve been many times. Bonampak is a sacred place, and an important part of the Mayan heritage. We pray at the murals. It’s now an archaeological site. My grandfather...’
‘Antonio?’ Michael interrupted, gulping down his bottle of water.
‘...Yes. He says that if we pray at the murals, we’ll be blessed with a safe journey back. And that we’ll bring back good blessings for our people. It’s a beautiful place.’
‘Depends on what gods you’re praying too,’ Mohammad bellowed. Eduardo started to laugh, then slowly, the rest managed to find some novelty in the comment. In their situation. Thanks to Mohammad.
‘Okay, let’s get moving!’ Abbe said. He was the first back on his feet.
Everyone slowly dragged themselves off the ground and continued their journey.
After almost another hour’s trek through the jungle, a breeze could be felt. Their dense surroundings had finally been replaced by some fresh air, carried in from the gap in the jungle, a gap that would lead them to the river. As they stepped further, their feet began to sink into the waterlogged, soggy ground.
‘We’re here,’ Carolina said. ‘I can hear the river.’
They all breathed a sigh of relieve, that even though in the darkness of the jungle, where their eyes were made redundant, their ears were still being utilized, and what they were delivering was good news. Their trek had reached the end, for now.
‘Michael!’ Marcel hissed. ‘Look, over there.’ He pointed to a white motorboat that was resting on the bank.
‘Nobody comes here at night,’ Abbe said. ‘This is strange.’
‘Suspicious,’ Michael said, his eyes scanning the area.
Before anyone could say another word, mumbled voices came towards them.
‘It’s them,’ Eduardo whispered, hyperventilating.
‘They know we’re here. My God, we’re dead,’ Abbe said, tugging on Michael’s arm.
‘We’re not finished yet. Sofia, take Abbe, Eduardo, and Mohammad and go hide in those bushes,’ Michael said. ‘Mohammad, you take this canoe. Marcel, give yours to Sofia.’
Through the darkness, three lights is all that could be seen, bobbing up and down, growing bigger with every step their bearer took.
Michael’s heart pounded against his chest, like a hammer on the head of a nail. He knew those were Mancini agents. What he wasn’t sure of was, whether or not they were humans, or Fomoria
ns in disguise. He looked at Marcel and Carolina, grinning. He knew what they were thinking - time to test our stuff out!
Michael crouched down behind a tree. Marcel and Carolina crouched down behind another tree at the opposite side of the path.
Without the night vision goggles, Michael struggled to see, so he was grateful for the light coming from the three torches heading their way.
A man’s voice cut through the air, growing louder, speaking in Spanish. Michael recognised one of the voices from the detention camp. From behind the tree, he watched as the three shadows stretched along the ground, getting shorter and shorter as they approached.
Then, from the distance, there was a snap as if someone had stood on a branch. The shadows stopped still. One of the shadows dropped their torch. Michael watched as the shadow not only grew in length, but in size. It started to expand, as if it was a balloon being filled with air.
‘Marcel, Carolina – they’re not human,’ Michael yelled. Adrenaline kicked in, and Michael knew he could only surprise them if he acted now.
He ran out from behind the tree, grabbed one of the two who were still in human form. His speed was out of his control. That blueprint that was inside him took over. He tripped the man up in a Karate style sweep, without even breaking a sweat. As he went down, Michael pulled the torch from him and threw it at the other. By this time, all three of them were growing out of their clothes, like overgrown bodybuilders.
The third giant reached into his jacket, but before he could draw whatever he’d concealed, Marcel threw a punch, his knuckles connecting with it’s chin, knocking it to the ground, banging it’s head of the other that Michael had floored.
Carolina did the same to the third. The one on the ground jumped back up again.
Michael swung a high spinning hook kick at him. He stumbled back, but stayed on his feet. He reached into his torn jacket and pulled a weapon. A shiny blade glistened under the moonlight, about ten inches in length, menacing enough to skin a crocodile.
Before he had a chance to test it out, Carolina side-kicked him to the side of his shin. The sound of his leg snapping echoed, followed by his screams, sounding like an angry bear who’d just been shot in the ass. He fell to the ground gripping his leg. Marcel walked over to him, crouched down, and punched him so hard he went out cold.
‘We’ll tie them up,’ Michael said, searching their pockets. He pulled out a set of keys, a cigarette lighter and a phone. The others appeared. ‘Great news!’ he said. ‘I’ve got the keys to the motorboat!’ He tossed the keys from his right hand to his left. ‘Abbe, thanks for the canoes, but we have a motorboat now. We can tie the canoes onto the side of the boat. We don’t want Mancini agents tracing them back to your people.’
‘What the hell are they?’ Mohammad said.
‘Fomorian monsters,’ Michael said. ‘It appears the Mancini Corporation is turning humans into these horrible looking things.’
‘How are they doing that?’ Carolina said.
‘They’ve been carrying out tests on animals at the camp,’ Michael said.
‘Yes, they were carrying out tests on the animals of this jungle,’ Abbe said.
‘That’s right, then they’d forced their own agents to take some of the dark trees leaves,’ Edaurdo added, his voice shaking. He cleared his throat. ‘They were going to test us, too.’
‘Great. Let’s go!’ Sofia said. ‘Lets just get the hell out of here.’
They all ran towards the boat: a white cabin cruiser, about thirty-five feet in length, armed with a wooden hull. Michael had seen one of them before in Ireland.
He jumped in and ran up to the steering wheel. ‘Please work, please work,’ he chanted to himself, looking to the sky as if asking for some help. He turned the key, closed his eyes, and held his breath.
The motor sputtered to life, a sound welcomed by everyone. Michael felt a surge of relief. His muscles relaxed. It was much safer in a motorboat than in a canoe, especially during the night. They’d pushed their luck far enough. A visit from a hungry crocodile was something they could do without.
‘We’re ready,’ Carolina said, jumping aboard.
Michael searched for Bonampak on Sirani Maps. ‘Great. According to this, if we travel at a slow speed, we’ll be at La Frontera Corozal in six and a half hours.’
‘Have you sailed a ship before?’ Mohammad asked.
‘It’s not a ship; it’s a boat, Dumbo.’ Marcel pushed Mohammad playfully as they quickly set the watercraft in motion.
While cruising along the river, they all felt a feeling of liberty. It was relaxing, nothing but the hum of the engine, along with the waves and bubbles in the boat’s wake.
‘Do you know much about boats?’ Sofia asked Michael.
‘Every summer we went on holiday to Galway,’ he paused momentarily. ‘It’s beautiful. There was a fisherman called Damien Mc Peake who took us out to catch fish. He had the same model as this: a “Thornycroft 154”, built in 1947.’
‘1947? Are you sure we’ll arrive in this ancient artefact?’ Sofia hit him playfully on the arm.
‘Yes, definitely. She’s an old boat, and for sure tired. But she’s reliable.’
‘She?’ Sofia teased. ‘You think you’re some kind of seasoned fisherman now?’
‘Whatever. Just don’t worry. We’ll get there.’
They all sat there, tired and glad for the respite. Their tired eyes welcomed the complete darkness, nothing but the moonlight and stars above colouring the water a dark shade of blue. ‘I’m going to lie below deck for a while,’ Eduardo said.
Michael sat behind the steering wheel, guided by Sirani Maps, the feeling of cool air on his face keeping him from falling asleep.
Abbe came and sat on the edge of the boat beside the wheel. ‘Why here? Why the jungle?’
‘We haven’t got time to go anywhere else. And it’s not important where we go. Our device can be used anywhere in the world. But here is just a bonus because it’s away from big cities, from most civilisation, well...’ Michael paused, and looked around at their beautiful, untouched surroundings, ‘when I say civilisation, I find myself wondering if that is the correct word to describe where we all come from. I look at your people, and I find real meaning to the word civilised.’ He reached for his bottle of water. ‘And if we did this in a city, where there are lots of people, including the government, it would be too risky to fly under the radar.’
‘Fly? Radar?’ Abbe sounded like he needed a greater explanation. Michael had forgotten that he probably didn’t know a lot of English slang.
‘It means that we would get caught. Here, we have more privacy and freedom. Then, hopefully, we can slip back to Little Camberly unnoticed.’
Eduardo joined them all on deck again.
‘We’re lucky the Mancini Corporation brought Eduardo here, of all places,’ Sofia laughed. ‘It’s almost like we should be grateful. It’s so beautiful and remote.’
‘Isn’t it strange how the company is named after an Italian, yet all the agents are Mexican?’ Mohammad interrupted. ‘Like this isn’t confusing enough.’
Michael turned and looked at Mohammad. ‘This is a huge organisation, and we’ve only dealt with the Mexican branch of agents,’ he said. ‘Of course, the bosses are Italian. But they’re not stupid enough to get their hands dirty.’
Chapter Fourteen
DURING THE REST OF the trip, everyone but Michael and Abbe slept. Michael continued to sail the boat with Abbe beside him.
At around two thirty a.m., Marcel joined them at the wheel. ‘Michael, go get some rest. You need sleep too, amigo,’ Marcel said, nudging him with his elbow. ‘I can take the wheel for a while.’
‘Gracias,’ Michael stepped off the seat, stretching out his stiff muscles and joints.
Below deck, all the beds were taken, so Michael grabbed a blanket and two pillows and joined Marcel and Abbe back on deck.
He fixed a spot to sleep and lay there stargazing. He knew, or at least hoped, that in
the next twenty-four hours he’d be back in Little Camberly.
‘Marcel?’ Michael shouted, still watching the stars make the American sky sparkle.
‘Ola?’ Marcel continued to steer the boat.
‘We’re supposed to start Uni today! It’s Monday the fifth!’
They laughed aloud for a few minutes. They hadn’t laughed that much since they’d met.
AT FIVE-THIRTY A.M., Michael woke to his alarm. He sat up, looking all around him, yawning. No recollection of falling asleep. He stood up stretching, which almost adding a few extra inches to his arms, and joined Marcel and Abbe at the wheel. ‘Where are we?’
‘According to Sirani Maps, we’re only twenty minutes away from La Frontera Corozal...’ Marcel rubbed his face. ‘I’m ready for a holiday.’
Soon after, the other four woke. Sofia first, then Carolina, then Eduardo, and then, slowly, Mohammad made an appearance on deck.
They all grouped closely, circling Marcel, who was still guiding their vessel, everyone yawning one after the other.
Sofia called Ajit to tell him they were close to La Frontera Corozal.
Getting closer to the destination, they all went quiet. The motorboat’s engine dying signalled the beginning of the end.
Leaving the boat on the riverbank, they sat down to rest while waiting for the chopper. They began to relax and feel grateful that they’d made it to the end of their journey.
Mohammad spotted a bird circling above them. It’s wingspan made it appear like a plane that had come to life. ‘A Condor, look how beautiful it is!’ he shouted. It made a dive for them, landing on Marcel’s head. ‘I think she likes you,’ Mohammad laughed. Marcel wasn’t as impressed; his superfast hands couldn’t even get the vulture off. Then, it flew towards Michael, then Carolina. Finally, it landed on Mohammad’s shoulder.
It flew off again, soaring through the sky, then disappeared into the jungle canopy on the other side of the river. ‘When we get back to Little Camberly, I’m asking George to get one of them; they’re extremely likeable.’ Mohammad was in awe.