Titanoboa Page 14

  He sipped his water. “I don’t care. This is, whatever the hell this all is, it’s bigger than us.”

  “That’s exactly what I’m saying. These people are doing something huge and I’m guessing illegal. I want to find out what. This is my job; I can’t just leave.”

  “Even if it means risking your life?”

  “I don’t feel I’m doing that. I’m not going into the jungle, and I don’t have any plans to.”

  He shook his head. Despite his desire to leave, somehow he couldn’t leave her here. Not here. Not to Steven. He would be staying, too.

  “One day,” he said. “You’ve got one day to find whatever you’re looking for. And then I’m pulling you out of here. And if you fight me, I’ll tell Steven what you’re up to.”

  “You wouldn’t… okay. Okay, that’s fair. One day.”

  29

  Mark hadn’t seen Steven all day. A rumor had been going around the camp that he’d killed one of the snakes and was in the jungle using it as bait for more snakes, but somehow Mark knew that wasn’t true. Something else was going on.

  Mark strolled around camp with Riki. She talked to whatever workers would speak to her. Most didn’t have much to say, but a few did. Some told them they’d heard the hunting parties had all been killed; some said they’d killed all the snakes and it was safe to go back. Mark was curious how the other teams had actually performed and tried to track Steven down.

  The administration tent was now buzzing with activity. Steven slumped in a chair. Yesterday, he appeared nearly invincible, a man completely immersed in his element. Confident in his abilities to get everything done he needed to. But that wasn’t how he looked now. He appeared pale and defeated. His shoulders slouched, and he seemed like he could fall asleep at any moment. He was giving commands to some of the assistants but from a sitting position, as though too tired or too lazy to stand.

  “Can we talk?” Mark said, poking his head in.

  “What do you need?” he said.

  “I was just curious how the other hunting parties did.”

  Steven was quiet a moment. He looked at one of his assistants and barked an order about sending some documents somewhere. “Why are you curious? Don’t want to go out again?”

  “I’d like to know what my chances are if I do decide to go.”

  Steven exhaled. “We lost eight men total. One entire team and four from other teams, including ours.”

  “Eight?” Mark grappled with the number. Eight people dead, just like that. No animal he had ever seen would be capable of devastation like this. “Did anybody see anything?”

  “No. One person thought he saw a shadow grab one of his men and pull him into the trees. That’s it.”

  “Well, the hunt’s over, right? I mean, we’re not going back there.”

  “Hell yes, we are.”

  “What? Are you insane? You just lost eight men. One of them right in front of you.”

  “I was paid to do a job, and I’m gonna do it. You were paid, too. If you want to cut your losses and run, go ahead.”

  Something in Mark wanted to lash out. To show Steven he wasn’t the type of man to back down from a fight. It was almost like a playground dare, one that had to be completed or the cowardice never forgotten. But no way Mark was going out just to get killed. Especially since he was planning to leave tomorrow with Riki.

  “You got anything I can do around the camp tonight?”

  “Around the camp? Like throwing away trash or something?”

  Mark blushed. “Never mind.”

  He turned to leave, and Steven said, “I think there’s some maid outfits at the supply tent.”

  Mark ignored the comment and kept walking. Unsure whether his anger was directed at Steven or himself, the number eight kept going through his mind. Eight men dead in a flash. What the hell was out there?

  Mark spent most of the day sleeping, eating, or walking with Riki. He’d found out she was a French major in college, along with journalism, and they spoke briefly in French. Mark’s father had been French, and he’d actually lived in Bordeaux for a few years as a child. The little French he remembered was exactly something a child would recall. Nothing substantive, just terms related to play, food, and basic conversation.

  At dusk, Mark was sitting in his tent on the cot, debating what to do. Riki stated she could only get into the administrative tent late at night when no one was there, so they were definitely here one more night.

  The thought of going out into the jungle again filled him with dread. Not that he was cowardly, but just that it was so futile. Last night, a man was taken right in front of them. They’d been outsmarted and outmaneuvered. Only a fool went up against greater forces knowing he was going to lose.

  Millard, the herpetologist, poked his head into his tent. “Hi,” he said, upbeat.

  “Hi,” Mark said. “Something you need, Craig?”

  “I’m, well, I’m going out with your team tonight, and I was wondering if—”

  “Are you crazy? Do you know how many people disappeared last night?”

  “Well, no, but I thought that—”

  “We don’t even know what’s causing it. But whatever it is, it’s smart. It outsmarted Steven, anyway. You’re not coming.”

  “Well, no offense, but I don’t work for you. I just came to ask if you knew where an extra pack was? We don’t seem to have any more.”

  Mark scoffed. “There’s one with blood on it out in the jungle. Help yourself.” He rose and brushed past the man. He made a beeline for the administration tent and found Steven sucking on a cigar outside of the tent. “You can’t let Millard go,” Mark said. “He’s inexperienced.”

  “So are you. You did just fine.”

  “It’s different. He’s going to get himself killed.”

  Steven shrugged. “He’s a big boy. Let him decide for himself.”

  Mark stepped close to the man. “What the hell is really going on?”

  Steven blew out a puff of smoke then looked to the horizon. The sun was nearly set, just a shimmering orb quickly disappearing behind pink clouds. “Come tonight, and you and I will talk. I’ll tell you everything.”

  “No games? No company talk?”

  “No games. I’ll tell you exactly what’s going on here.”

  “Okay, I’ll come.”

  As he walked back to his tent to pick up his pack, the last of the sun’s rays lit the sky before darkness fell.

  30

  The pack seemed heavier than it had last night, but it was actually lighter. Mark took out anything superfluous and kept the essentials. He didn’t know whether he’d hike back through the jungle at night by himself, but the plan so far was to learn what was really going on then get the hell out of there. Assuming Riki obtained everything she needed.

  He slung the pack over his shoulders and trudged through camp. It was quieter than usual. No one was playing games, and though the men drank, they drank in silence.

  Riki was waiting for him near the gathering teams. Though only eight had disappeared, at least two-thirds of the men from last night were absent. Steven was yelling at some men in a different language.

  “What’s going on?” Mark asked.

  “Apparently the men are refusing to go back. They’re demanding triple the pay,” she said.

  Mark watched the argument for a moment then said, “I’ll be heading back myself tonight. And we’re leaving. We’ll try and take a Jeep if we can, but if not, we’re walking.”

  “Walking through the jungle at night by ourselves?”

  “I’ll take my chances in the jungle over these people any day. Just be ready.”

  After a few minutes, the men reached some sort of resolution. About half left, and half stayed. Steven waited until all the other teams left before walking up to Mark. “Just the three of us,” he said.

  Millard strained under the weight of a pack. He was already sucking breath and was wearing shorts.

  “You can’t seriously be
taking him out,” Mark said.

  “He’s a set of hands, that’s all we need.” With that, Steven began tramping up the path into the jungle.

  Mark looked back to Riki. She had a look of concern on her face and said, “Hurry back.”

  “I will.”

  Night fell so quickly Mark had to fumble in his pack to find the night-vision goggles. He hadn’t anticipated having to use them this early. He flipped them on and saw two bright figures in front of him.

  Millard was breathing heavily now and constantly sipping out of his canteen. His boots were high-end, but the laces were undone on one of them, and he walked in them as if he was unaccustomed to them. As though new and never worn before.

  “One of your laces is undone,” Mark said.

  “I know. I keep it that way. For luck.”

  “How is that lucky?”

  Millard shrugged. “Just something I’ve done since I was a kid. Don’t really remember how it started.”

  Soon, the jungle completely enveloped them, and only a slit of moon was out tonight. Gray-black clouds covered it, and only the faintest glow of white was visible on the edges.

  The heat was even more unbearable than the previous night. It came from everywhere; the sky, the trees, the ground, surrounding Mark on all sides and pressing in on him. Sweat made his shirt cling to his back, and it rolled down his forehead. He had to stop several times and drink from his canteen. Only after about an hour did he realize he didn’t have enough water to last the entire night.

  One hour turned into two. By the end of that second hour, Millard was struggling. Even in the green tint of the goggles, Mark could see that sweat soaked him. Each man carried three canteens, and he’d already gone through all three, foolishly dumping some water out on his head to cool off a few times.

  “You okay?” Mark asked, himself breathing hard.

  “I didn’t expect it to be this hot.”

  “Here.” Mark handed him one of his canteens. “Don’t dump it out on your head. Just sip it slowly and only when you have to.”

  They looped around the same path they had on the previous night, but at a fork in the trail, they took another route. Mark didn’t say anything, thinking Steven knew what he was doing and they’d all end up in the same place again eventually.

  Another twenty minutes passed, and Mark was obsessively checking the time on his phone. Service was almost non-existent.

  “Right here,” Steven said. “It’s as good as anyplace.” Steven unloaded his pack but kept his rifle slung over his shoulder and his goggles on. Mark dropped the pack as Millard did the same. Millard found a fallen tree to sit on, and he groaned as he stripped off his boots and stretched his legs.

  “Mark, I think I saw something over there,” Steven said. “We better check it out. Let Craig rest.”

  “Okay.” He figured it was just an excuse to talk. He followed Steven about thirty yards farther up the path. They came to a small precipice, maybe fifty feet from the jungle floor. Below them the trees and shrubs were so thick he couldn’t see what lay beyond.

  “I will say this, brother, this is the damned prettiest jungle I ever been in.”

  Mark’s legs felt weak and sore. He sat, placing his rifle down next to him. Steven took a few paces around before coming to rest beside him. He gazed down at him and took off the goggles as Mark did the same. The dim sky was beginning to shine as the clouds moved on, and the stars sparkled like gems, providing just enough light that they didn’t need the goggles anymore.

  “So what is it?” Mark said. “What’re you guys really doing here?”

  Steven slipped the rifle off his shoulder and removed the safety lock. He was glaring at Mark, unblinkingly, a frozen expression on his face. “Well, see,” he said quietly, “about that. They’re doing some interesting stuff here on your little island. And I just can’t have reporters and ex-cops looking into everything, now can I?”

  Mark’s heart raced, and he began to reach for the weapon next to him. Steven lifted his rifle, pointing it at Mark’s face.

  “That’s a damn shame that Kapoor died last night,” Steven said. “It was supposed to be you.”

  Mark swallowed. He had to buy time any way he could. “That’s why you brought me out here? To die?”

  Steven chuckled. “You think I’d bring you on a hunt with me? Some washed up cop hiding in a shack? No, brother, you were not my first choice.”

  “What’s going to happen to Riki?”

  He shrugged. “Ain’t no women around. Maybe I give her to the workers as part of their incentive package to keep hunting with me.”

  “You can’t beat whatever’s out here. You know that.”

  Mark desperately scanned the area around them. If he reached for the rifle, Steven would fire. He didn’t have enough time to get to his feet and run. That left one option, but even that would take a second or two, and Steven could get off some rounds.

  Footsteps behind them, and Millard appeared. “What the heck you guys doing?”

  Steven looked over. As he did so, Mark jumped.

  He leapt from the precipice, slamming into the side of the canyon and sliding down on his butt. Debris and pebbles flew up into his face. He snagged on something sharp, and it spun him. He went head over heels, smashing his head into a tree stump before he rolled to his side and stopped only when he hit level ground.

  His head was cut and bleeding. Above him, he heard shouting and shots fired before Mark closed his eyes, unable to stand.

  31

  Something was different about the camp. Riki could feel it. The men were more subdued, whispering in quiet corners. Everyone was on edge, and when Riki went to the mess hall for something light for dinner, it was empty. No one was working, and no food was out.

  She returned to her tent to wait to sneak into the administrative tent again late at night. This time, she would snap photos and forward emails to record what was going on. Maybe she could even find some files they didn’t want her to find.

  As she entered the tent, she noticed those men again, the ones standing a few tents away and glaring at her. The same four from the previous night. This time they said something in another language. The man that said it grabbed himself, and the other three men grinned like vultures. She stepped inside the tent and zipped up the flap. Her gaze never left it as she backed away. There was no doubt in her mind now; no one was here to help her. Not the company, not Steven, and even Mark was gone. She was alone. And these men didn’t care about laws or the police, because no one even knew they were here.

  That left two choices. She could sit here and hope nothing happened, or she could try to find that gun she wanted.

  With every bit of courage, she opened the flap of the tent and stepped outside. The men were still there, and now they appeared curious—not curious enough to follow her, she hoped. She turned quickly away from them, and when she heard a conversation in English, she immediately stepped into the group and said, “Hi, you guys Americans?”

  They spoke, the mundane chitchat of people too exhausted to do anything else. She answered when she was supposed to and asked questions when appropriate, but her attention was on the four men near her tent. They were smoking and eyeing her as if no one else was even there.

  After a few minutes, she slipped away from the group and continued through the camp. A few tents held supplies for the men. They received a certain number of vouchers to spend at those supply tents, buying candy bars, chips, and other snacks. Riki hadn’t been to one of the tents, and she wondered if they had weapons, too.

  She was about to ask someone where the supply tents were when she noticed a man walking toward her, or in her general direction anyway. The man from last night, the one that had caught her in the administration tent. Two other men flanked him. When they saw her, they quickened their pace.

  Riki instinctively knew to get away. She took a few paces back then turned and hurriedly walked in the other direction. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw the man rushin
g to catch up to her. Whatever they needed, she could tell from their faces she wanted no part of it.

  As she passed her tent, unsure exactly where she would go, she felt a hand on her arm. One of the four men, which she had completely forgotten about in her panic to get away from the others following behind her, had grabbed her.

  “Where you going?” he said in a thick Eastern European accent.

  “Let go of me.”

  “Maybe you come to our tent,” he said with a sly smile. “We have beer.”

  “I said let go.”

  “Let her go,” someone said behind her. It was the man from last night.

  The worker looked at the man and lost his smile. He didn’t let go of her arm for a moment then slipped his hand away. Neither of the men said anything to each other, and the man behind her turned his attention to Riki.

  “You’ll need to come with me, Ms. Howard.”

  “For what?”

  “Because you’re under arrest. Now come with me, please.”

  “Under arrest for what? What is this about?”

  “Ma’am, if you don’t come with me, I am authorized to use force to bring you in.” He stepped to the side, motioning with his arm for her to walk in front of him. “Please, come with us.”

  Riki weighed her options. Nothing sounded appealing, but going with the men who at least had some semblance of civilization left was the safest choice. She stepped through them and strolled casually through camp as though nothing were wrong, the men circling her as they headed wherever they were taking her.

  32

  Mark hadn’t passed out, but he wished he had. The pain was so intense he rolled to his side just in time to spew out whatever he’d consumed that day. He couldn’t remember exactly what he had eaten, and it worried him. He raised his hand to his forehead. It didn’t come away with blood. The blood had dried. He had been lying there for a while. The events of the past few hours returned to him, and he remembered Steven and his rifle.