Amazon Burning (A James Acton Thriller, #10) (9 page)

BOOK: Amazon Burning (A James Acton Thriller, #10)
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Reading
frowned. “Two full days after. And that assumes they can make the jump. This is
dense jungle.”

Milton
glanced over his shoulder at the thick forest to their right. It was tall,
dense, and unforgiving. And he was sure any clearings large enough to be seen
from the air and targeted by a paratrooper were manmade and potentially
occupied. “Could they land in the water?” he asked.

Reading
looked at the river, fairly swift but from what he could tell, free of rocks.
“Perhaps. How they’d get to shore though would be the challenge. They could be
swept quite a distance, and their equipment would be pretty damned heavy. I
doubt they’d be able to swim.”

“These
guys are pros. I’m sure they know what they’re doing.”

Reading
nodded. “Anything else happen while I was asleep? Any word from Jim?”

Milton
shook his head, closing his eyes for a moment. “No. He’s missed all his
check-ins since that voice mail. I’m really worried.”

“Me
too.” It was almost a murmur, Reading not wanting to acknowledge exactly how
worried he was that two of his best friends were missing. He barely knew
Milton, but knew Milton was extremely close to Acton so was certainly taking
this even harder. And he also knew what helplessness could feel like. He had no
doubt Milton wanted to dive into that jungle and find his friends, just like he
did, but Milton was hampered by his handicap, and he by his age.

To be
twenty-five again.

He
sighed.

Hell,
to be forty-five again!

“Penny for
your thoughts.”

“Huh?”

Milton
chuckled. “It’s an American—”

“I know
what it means,” interrupted Reading. He shook his head, looking at Milton.
“Just cursing old age.”

Milton
slapped his stomach. It had grown significantly when he was first injured, but was
much more respectable now, though not where he wanted it to be. “Tell me about
it.”

“You’ve
got an excuse.”

“Bah,
don’t let the wheelchair fool you. I had packed on an extra twenty before I got
shot. Working behind a desk kills you slowly. First your fitness, then your
spirit.”

“Thinking
of a change?”

Milton
shook his head. “Even if I fully recover, I’ll never truly be fully recovered.
My days of running marathons and chasing after Jim are over. Besides, I love
the kids. Don’t get me wrong, the job is great for the most part, but pushing
paper isn’t what I thought I’d end up doing.”

Reading
grunted. “You shouldn’t have taken the promotion,” he said, knowing exactly
what Milton was talking about. “Leaving Scotland Yard is one of my big regrets.
This INTERPOL job has me staring at computer screens more than anything else.
At least in my old job I was visiting crime scenes, looking for clues,
interrogating people, catching bad guys.”

“You
loved it.”

“I
bloody well did!” He chuckled. “You know, if it weren’t for Jim and Laura, my
life would be pretty dull. But between having to either bail them out or being
dragged along for the ride, I’ve seen more action in the past few years than in
my entire military career.”

“You
were in the military?”

“Early
eighties. Falklands War. I was—”

“We are
here!” called Fabricio, pointing to the shore.

Reading
and Milton rose, both staring at the shore. A small village of what Reading
couldn’t help but think of as savages could just be seen through the trees. If
you didn’t know to look for them, you could just as easily miss them. As the
Captain guided the boat around the bend, he sailed them into an inlet that bent
out of sight from the Rio Negro. The calm, isolated waters were filled with
several dozen natives swimming, washing, and performing various other tasks.
Several small boats, perhaps better described as canoes, were pulled up onto
the shore. Farther inland were several large communal buildings, a large
central fire pit and various other smaller structures where it looked like they
were stretching animal skins, curing meat and fish, and fashioning tools and
weapons.

“Aren’t
they all supposed to be naked?” asked Reading, a small part of him a little
disappointed as he spotted some gorgeous women nearby, waving at them.

Then he
noticed their breasts were only covered by long hair.

He
smiled.

“Not if
they’ve had contact with the outside world. The tribes that haven’t usually go
completely naked, some with merely a loincloth to cover their most private of
bits.”

“I see.”

“You sound
disappointed.”

Reading
looked at Milton. “And you aren’t?”

Milton
grinned. “Devastated, I’m sure.”

The
Captain positioned the boat beside a perfectly serviceable dock, these natives
clearly set up to trade with the outside world. Captain Fabricio waved at an
approaching elder, shouting something in Portuguese, a response offered in the
same. Fabricio turned to Reading and Milton.

“You
wait here. I will see if they are willing to help.” He lowered his voice. “And
whatever you do, don’t show your teeth!”

Reading’s
smile at the bouncing bounty quickly filling the shoreline was instantly wiped
away. “Why not?”

“Teeth
mean you challenge them.”

“Good to
know,” said Milton, his own face slackening.

Reading
found himself scanning the shore for tooth-filled smiles, but only found what
to him appeared to be nice, non-threatening smiles of the closed-mouth variety.

Fabricio
then looked to Milton. “And don’t let them see wheelchair.”

“Now
wait a minute!” exclaimed Reading, jumping to Milton’s defense.

Fabricio
shook his head rapidly, raising his hands. “It is a sign of weakness. They must
see only strength. It best you stay here.”

Reading
was about to open his mouth when Milton held out his hand. “No, it’s perfectly
fine. These cultures respect strength and vitality. Seeing a man my age
restricted to a wheelchair, or weak, would make them think we’re all weak,
unwilling to put me out of the tribe.”

“Huh?”

“In
their society I’d be considered a burden. Only elders are permitted that
privilege. Someone like me, who couldn’t walk on his own, would leave the tribe
of his own accord, never to be seen again.”

“You’re
kidding.”

Milton
sat down, clearly fatigued. “Not at all. It’s really quite common. When a
member of the tribe feels he’s a burden and can no longer contribute in some
meaningful way, it is his duty to do the right thing and leave. That way the
tribe, usually few in number, don’t have to provide for the non-contributing
member.”

Fabricio’s
head bobbed in emphatic agreement. “This is right. What he say is right.”

“Sounds
bloody barbaric to me.” Reading looked down at Milton. “Are you going to be
okay?”

He
nodded. “It’s for the best anyway. Someone needs to mind the phone.”

Reading
had to agree with that one. Who knew how a ringing phone might appear to these
people? Though they clearly weren’t afraid of the new arrivals, how much
technology they had been exposed to was questionable.

“We
should go, they will think it rude to keep them waiting,” said Fabricio,
motioning for Reading to join him on the ramp. Reading put a smile on his face,
careful to not show any teeth, and walked down the ramp after Fabricio. Bows
and awkward handshakes were exchanged with the elders, there now almost one
hundred people gathered, many with their hands extended to try and touch the
strangers, especially Reading, his English skin probably some of the most pale
they would have ever seen.

Reading
kept the pleasant expression on his face despite his not being a fan of being
touched, especially pet as if an animal. A few squeezes had him feeling like he
was being sized up for dinner.

Someone
squeezed his balls.

His head
dropped quickly to see who did it, the culprit apparently a giggling beauty he
had seen earlier on the shore. She let go, saying something, the response
laughter, leaving his manhood to feel like it would shrink from embarrassment.
Then one of the men grabbed it and squeezed. He swatted away the hand.

The man
jumped back, shaking his spear then laughed when the woman who had begun
squeezing the fruit in his grocery aisle said something.

He had
to know. Talking under his breath while trying to not move his mouth, he asked Fabricio,
“Any idea why they’re laughing?”

Fabricio
began to laugh himself, looking up at the imposing Reading. “They want to know
if all of you was as big as you look.”

I had
to ask.

He
didn’t know if his ego could take the answer so he didn’t bother asking.

“Apparently
the woman and the man disagree.”

Interesting.

He
looked at the woman who was nearby, keeping pace with the procession as it
moved into the building. She seemed to be eyeing him like a piece of meat.
Visions of the chief gifting this gorgeous creature to him as some sort of
custom that could not be refused breathed a little life down below, making
Hugh, Jr. wish for another squeeze.

“Apparently
she think you are no bigger than anyone else, but the man disagree. I think he
like you.”

“Huh?”

“He gay,
you know, he like boys.”

Reading
looked over the man, he too sizing him up like the main course at dinner. “I
got that.” Reading’s fantasy suddenly turned into a nightmare vision of being
offered the man, refusing an insult that would get them all killed.

Suddenly
everything stopped, a hush spreading across the entire village as everyone
turned to Reading’s right. Several men emerged from the forest, spears raised
over their heads, shouting in triumph, their face paint a little more menacing
looking than the simple reddish-purple and white most of the villagers were
covered with.

But that
wasn’t what caused Reading to gasp in shock.

It was
the two men behind the lead group carrying a long branch between them on their
shoulders, their prey tied to it by the hands and feet. Human prey. Reading’s
heart slammed against his chest as the realization of what he was seeing was
finally comprehended.

His
friend, in agony, strung like a piece of meat between the two hunters.

“Jim!”

 

 

 

 

One day from the Rio Negro, Northern Amazon, Brazil

 

Tuk held Lau-ra by the wrist, gently now, there no longer any need
to worry she might run away. From the shouts of the hunters last night it
seemed clear the Spirit People looking for her had been captured, which
confirmed what he suspected.

They
lost their power the farther from the mighty river they went.

Which
must mean that Lau-ra had no powers anymore. He had to admit he was slightly
disappointed, but then he had always wanted a human for a mate, not a spirit,
so the fact she had become fully human thrilled him.

Almost
fully human.

She was
still a ghastly pale, as unhealthy looking as anyone he had ever seen. In the
morning light he had thought it might be paint, like the red clay much of his
own body was covered in, the white markings on his cheeks and forehead
identifying his clan and tribe. Several rubs of her arm, even licks, failed to
remove it though, leaving him to fear his intended mate might not be long for
this world.

Could
that be the curse?

Doomed
to live on the river, never to set foot on land again lest they die all over
again?

It would
seem to make sense. The Mother was infinite in Her wisdom, and if the Spirit
People were free to roam the land at will, life would be intolerable for Her
children that dwelled there. It would be a terrifying existence for his people
to see their ancestors roaming freely about. Though the medicine man sometimes
claimed, with the help of certain plants, to communicate with the Spirit World,
Tuk had always had his doubts. He had tried some of the herbs with Pol once and
they both heard voices and saw a lot of strange things, but it had been
gibberish.

But fun.

His
heart again sank at the thought of his friend, dead, and wondered if he were on
the mysterious craft that plied the mighty river. Was he on that very boat, or
another one? Would Tuk even recognize him if he saw him? Tuk looked over at
Lau-ra and wondered what she had looked like in her previous life, when she was
alive? Would she have been beautiful like TikTik, or plain? It was hard to
tell, her features so completely different from anything he had ever seen
before, she was almost a creature unto herself.

But he
found her attractive.

Maybe it
was the way she had laughed last night as they learned each other’s names.
Maybe it was just the way she seemed so exotic in the morning sun. He looked up
at the patches of sky he could see through the canopy above then at the shadows
cast. It was approaching midday and they had a long day’s journey ahead of him
before he could begin the Cleansing Ritual.

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