Amazon Burning (A James Acton Thriller, #10) (14 page)

Which
meant rape, no matter how nice he planned to be about it.

I
need some way to delay whatever ceremony he has planned!

She
again thought of faking an injury, perhaps a twisted ankle, and again thought
better of it. It was essential to mark their path if she were to survive.

And if
she were to be ultimately raped while awaiting rescue?

She’d
deal with it when the time came.

She felt
her chest tighten slightly at the thought of it, at the thought of what her
beloved James might think. She knew he was a good man, a fair man, and wouldn’t
blame her, but she would have been with another man, voluntarily or not.

And if
she wasn’t careful, Stockholm Syndrome might just have her forgiving the poor,
simple, weak man who had kidnapped her, allowing him to do with her as he
pleased to make things easier until rescue.

Are
you kidding me?

A flash
of anger overcame her defeatist attitude. Rape was rape. Sex without consent
was rape. And she’d fight any bastard who intended to rape her tooth and nail,
no matter how nice they were, or how good a friend they became. She was the
master of her own body, and no one was going to take it without a fight.

Tuk
seemed to sense a change in her demeanor and he gave her a thumbs up with a
questioning, “Okay?”, something she had taught him last night after their
ordeal.

She
nodded and forced a smile on her face. “Okay.”

They
crossed a small creek and he suddenly seemed excited, pointing slightly to the
left of the meandering water source and urging her forward. As they pushed
through the underbrush, suddenly they came upon a clearing and what she saw in
the center had her heart leap into her throat.

“James,
help me!”

Tuk was quite pleased at the time they had made, and as they entered
the clearing, he was also pleased to see no one else was making use of the Cleansing
Pit. He wasn’t surprised, it was a rare ritual, but the pit was always kept
prepared just in case there was a need.

And
today there was a need.

Suddenly
Lau-ra screamed something and turned to run. He grabbed her by the arm, pulling
her toward the pit.

“Don’t
worry, the Mother will protect you!”

She
struggled against him, the first time she had really done so in the two days
they had been together, and it almost shocked him at first.
Didn’t she come
willingly?
She was a Spirit Person, the Woman of Light. If she hadn’t
wanted to come, there was no way he could have taken her, but she had let him.

“Please,
calm down, you won’t be hurt. It’s just the Cleansing Pit. You need to be
cleansed before we can be mated. I thought that was what you wanted?”

They
were at the edge now, a rope, tied to a nearby tree, hung in the pit just in
case someone happened to fall in accidentally. He had heard of the occasional
animal being found at the bottom, but that was rare, the pit not hidden like a
trap. Most animals gave it a wide berth. He grabbed the rope with his free hand
and placed it in Lau-ra’s hand. She threw it away, shaking her head, shouting
something.

It
sounded negative.

And it
angered him, slightly.

If she
weren’t going to climb into the pit voluntarily like most did, then he had no
choice but to put her in himself. But it was the depth of almost two men, so
tossing her inside might kill her. He quickly wrapped the rope around her arm,
yanking on it, causing her to yelp in pain, then he pushed her over the edge.

Instinct
took over.

She
reached up with her free hand and grabbed the rope as she fell, smacking into
the earthen wall with a grunt, tears pouring down her cheeks as she screamed at
him. He pointed at the floor, jabbing his spear for emphasis, and she lowered
herself, finally letting go of the rope. He yanked it out, tossing it away from
the pit.

He
motioned for her to be quiet and she acquiesced, apparently realizing it was
too late for her now. It was essential she remain calm. She would need her
strength for the upcoming ordeal. But how to explain it to her? She certainly
recognized the pit from her previous life before the Spirit World.

Perhaps
she had died in one?

If that
were so, then the Mother hadn’t found her worthy.

Would
that mean now, in this second chance at life, the Mother would once again find
her not worthy? Would he return here at the end of the ritual to find her dead,
once again departed to the Spirit World?

Was
that even possible?

He
wondered. He had heard of spirits taking human form, but had always been told
it was usually forbidden unless there was some specific purpose to be served
for the Mother. In this case he had simply assumed the purpose was for him to
find a mate so he could procreate and help his tribe expand and continue to
honor the Mother.

But if
she had died before in the pit?

Or was
that a false assumption?

Perhaps
she had no idea what the pit was, and was simply reacting to it like anyone
might. No one wanted to be put into a pit. Outside of the Cleansing Ritual,
there could be no good reason for a person to be put into a pit.

That
must be it!

That
would be why she had let herself get taken. If she had known about the
Cleansing Pit, she would have known that it would be necessary for her to
endure it if she were to transition back to the world of the humans. So if she
knew, and she still went voluntarily, then she wouldn’t be reacting the way she
were now.

He
sighed in relief.

She
just didn’t know!

Which
meant that she hadn’t died in the ritual in her previous life, which meant the
Mother may very well still find her worthy.

He
pointed at her. “Lau-ra.”

She
stopped pacing the pit and looked up at him, saying nothing, but her eyes
glaring at him in hatred and fear.

He
pointed up at the sky. “You must survive the challenge. If you are worthy, the
Mother will provide.” His words were lost on her. He frowned, then pointed at
the sky again, then made a circle with his fingers to represent the sun. He
pointed to where it rose each morning, then traced the route across the sky
toward where it would eventually set.

“Day,”
he said, making the arc again. “Day. You understand?”

She
nodded, saying something.

He
removed some of the small rocks from his pouch and dropped the correct number
into the pit. He pointed at the rocks, then at the sky, moving his arm in an
arc several times before pointing again at the rocks.

“You
must survive that many days, you understand?”

She
picked up the rocks, and when she counted them her jaw dropped as she cried out
again, throwing all seven stones at him.

She
understands.

“Seven days? Are you kidding me!” she screamed. How the hell was she
supposed to survive in the bottom of a pit for seven days? She looked around
and saw nothing, not even a stick to help her. “Why are you doing this?” she
cried, slamming her fists against the earth, small round impressions left
behind.

Tuk said
something, motioning with his hands something that suggested she calm down. He
seemed perfectly okay with this situation, there no malevolence whatsoever. If
anything he seemed puzzled, disappointed even—as if her reaction were
completely unexpected. Perhaps it was the fact she had barely resisted since
her capture that had him thinking everything would go smooth.

But if
his intention all along had been to put her in here to die, then why be so
friendly.

But he
had said seven days, at least that’s what she assumed his hand motions and the
seven pebbles had meant.

And
seven days meant there was an end to this. If his intent was to leave her to
die, then there would be no seven day limit.

This
is a ritual!

It
suddenly made sense. He
was
intending for her to be his mate, but as in
many primitive cultures, there was a ritual before marriage, especially if the
person was unknown. This must be his tribe’s ritual. If she were expected to
stay here seven days on her own, with no supplies, it must be some sort of test
of worthiness.

A test
that must result in most dying.

Seven
days without water?

She made
a drinking motion. “What about water?”

Tuk’s
arm waved at their surroundings, as if encompassing more than just the
immediate vicinity. He said something, then, “Okay?”

If she
didn’t know better, she took his meaning to be, “the jungle will provide.” And
maybe it would. This was a rainforest, so it could rain, providing her with
water. That was the most important aspect to her survival. If she dug at the
soil she might find grubs or other sources of protein to keep her going.

“Okay?”
he asked again, giving the thumbs up she now regretted teaching him.

She
returned the thumbs up. “Go to hell you bastard,” she said with a smile.

Tuk
smiled, oblivious to her words, then disappeared.

She
listened but could hear nothing but the sounds of the forest.

“Tuk?”
she called, but there was no answer. “Tuk!” She yelled this time, and still
nothing.

She sat
in the one corner that still had light and assessed her situation.

Horrendous.

She knew
she only had a few hours of sunlight left so went to work preparing herself as
best she could. In the opposite corner, where the morning sun would first hit,
she stamped down a sleeping area, making it as hard and smooth as she could to
try and prevent insects from coming up through it. She then used the heel of
her boot to create several holes in the dirt, tamping them down, hoping they
might hold water long enough for her to scoop some of it out should it rain.

Lastly,
in the dark corner away from her sleeping area, she used her heel to dig out as
deep a hole as she could for a latrine. It would get nasty quite quickly, but
tomorrow morning she would begin looking at means of escape rather than
survival.

And with
luck, perhaps James would be here with a rescue party, having found her trail.

She
double checked that her pants were tucked tightly into her boots, then removed
her bra. She buttoned up her shirt tight and tucked it into her pants, then
folded the cups of her padded bra together, laying her head down gently, lying
on her side with her back toward the wall.

Her lip
began to tremble as a wave of self-pity rolled over her.

Seven
days. Just survive seven days.

Acton followed the natives, careful to scan the area for any
evidence of Laura or anyone having been there before, but his skillset did not
include tracking techniques, something he would be addressing with Leather when
they got themselves out of this current situation.

And
we
will
get ourselves out!

He knew
deep down in his soul that Laura was alive. He was certain he would know if she
wasn’t. He knew it sounded foolish, magical, spiritual, but something inside
him told him she was still alive and that she would hang on until he found her.

But so
far they had found nothing, and the daylight was fading. They had been searching
for almost eight hours, a group of at least thirty tribesmen having split off
into groups of three, fanning out in every direction from the village. It had
warmed his heart that these people would not only welcome them into their
village, but would help search for someone they had never met, who they knew
nothing about, out of the goodness of their own hearts.

For it
was just that. They had asked for nothing in return. Fabricio had offered food,
blankets, trinkets, chocolate, but was refused. They only wanted to help.
Something wrong had been done, and they felt it was their responsibility to
correct it.

It gave
him hope for Laura. She had been kidnapped, but he didn’t know why. Perhaps the
motive was not one of malevolence, but merely a misunderstanding. Perhaps she
was perfectly okay, merely being held against her will, but her life not in
danger.

He
sighed.

He was
grasping at straws of hope, he knew, but he had to otherwise he’d be going mad.
He knew the search was about to end for the day, which would frustrate him, but
he could ask no more of his hosts. And they were the experts. They could keep
moving forward in the night, but if they did, they might miss something.

One of
the natives whose name sounded like Skip to Acton said something, the others
gathering around.

“What is
it?” asked Acton. Skip spoke Portuguese, and said something to Sandro who then
pointed at a mark in the ground.

“He say
that made by person. It not a track from animal.”

Acton
took out his flashlight, the shadows already long, and knelt down by the
indentation, shining the beam over the area.

And
almost cried out in joy.

The mark
was a distinct heel mark with an obvious tread.

A modern
boot had made this.

Which
meant they were finally on the right track.

“This is
a heel mark, from a boot,” he said, pointing at the same spot on his boot.

Skip
nodded then waved his hand, as if disagreeing. He walked forward a step then as
he stepped forward on his right foot, he put more pressure on the back, leaving
a deeper indentation. He explained to Sandro.

“He said
that if it is her, she is leaving the mark deliberately, or she is injured and
can’t walk properly.”

Skip
shouted, pointing at the ground about ten feet away. They all rushed over to
see what he had found.

“Another
footprint!” exclaimed Sandro. “We have found her trail, senhor!”