Deadly Journey (19 page)

Chapter 32

Strange Sounds

Imagination has a
weird way of making you think you can hear and see things that are not there
–
especially in unfamiliar surroundings. But this was not an
illusion; there was definitely a body in plain sight. The child whimpering was
another matter. There were so many strange sounds in the rainforest, I wasn’t
sure if I really should chalk it up as a given.

Below where the tree trunk spanned the
stream, the bank was eroded down to rock. I imagined that during the rainy
season, the stream would swell and hit the bend with force. The stream had worn
the soil away to the strata, leaving an overhang. Large rocks and boulders were
strewn on the ground. For now, the stream was merely a trickle by comparison.

Turning to Leandra, I whispered, ‘Scan the
area over to our right behind me. Tell me if you see anything move.’

‘Okay.’

I scanned the area in front and to the bank
on the right. ‘Listen, anyone could see us from the opposite bank. I think we
should make our way to the boulders for cover. Keep low, but move quickly.’

Grasping the butt of the gun with both
hands and with eyes flitting in all directions, I moved swiftly to the first
boulder. Looking up, I noticed that we were under the tree trunk. The body was
clearly a hostile, draped over the makeshift bridge with arms and legs
dangling. I could make out his face daubed with black and white dye. His bow
lay in the stream, trapped on some rocks. Arrows had slithered from their
quiver, which hung loosely by a cord around his neck. A pool of water trapped
below his body was stained red.

Leandra grimaced, closed her eyes, and
grasped my arm.

‘Let’s move on,’ I said.

Moving to the next boulder, our boots
scrunched the pebbles underfoot. As we dropped to our knees, breathing heavily,
I heard the whimpering again.

We exchanged glances and Leandra whispered,
‘I heard that!’

‘So did I. It came from under the overhang.’

My eyes rose to look at the canopy above,
searching for inspiration for our next move. I took off my backpack, took out
the GPS transmitter, and handed it to Leandra.

‘Listen, slip this in your pocket. If
anything should happen to me, press that button and stay put.’

‘What is it?’

‘Don’t ask
–
just
do it.’

Leandra looked at me questioningly, but did
as instructed. ‘What should we do now?’ she asked.

‘I don’t know. It could be the hostiles
luring us into a trap. If they can mimic bird and animal calls, they could
imitate a child crying.’

‘But what if it is a child?’

‘I’m thinking.’ I didn’t have to think
long. If it was a child and they were hurt, time could be of the essence. ‘Pick
up some pebbles and on the count of three, toss them over to the overhang.’

Leandra didn’t question me, simply picked
up a pebble. Springing to my feet and with arms steadied on the top of the
boulder, I gripped the Glock and took aim. ...
Two, three.
‘Now.’

The pebbles ricocheted off the rocks in
front of the overhang. Taking slow, even breaths, and through sheer
concentration, I was able to block out the sounds around me. As if in slow
motion, I saw the barrel of a rifle rise over the rocks and a woman’s face
appeared. I dropped behind our boulder.

‘It’s a woman.’

‘A native?’

‘No, I think it’s the wife of the head
cocalero
.’

Leandra called out a ‘who’s there.’
‘
Quién se
?’

A tearful voice responded. ‘Simone.
Por
favor, ayudar
?’

‘She’s asking for help.’

‘Tell her to put the rifle down, we’re
coming.’

Leandra called out and I bobbed my head to
see the rifle disappear.

We scurried over and squeezed behind the
rock. The woman grasped Leandra’s arm, gibbering in Spanish. Her two daughters,
one in her early teens and the other who looked to be around eight years old,
sat huddled under the overhang, tears streaming down their cheeks.

‘Kurt, thank God you’re here.’

The male voice was laboured, but it was
instantly recognizable. I turned to see Carlos, propped with his back to a
boulder. The shaft of an arrow protruded from his shoulder. His bloodied knife
lay at his side. His fatigues were soaked with blood. His knuckles were white,
grasping the rifle strap that he’d wrapped around the top of his leg as a
tourniquet. There was a cut in his pants leg, exposing a large gash. Leaning
against the boulder behind him was a spear with a bloodied blade. To one side,
I noticed a syringe and an empty vial of morphine.

‘Looks like you’ve been in a war. I’ll take
a look at that leg wound. It’s gonna need cleaning or it’ll get infected.’

Carlos sucked air rapidly through gritted
teeth. Slipping the backpack straps off my shoulders, I unzipped it and dug
deep for the medical kit.

‘Try breathing more slowly.’

He nodded his head. Picking up his knife, I
extended the slit in his pants all the way to the bottom. Peeling the material
back, I winced.

‘You’re lucky. It looks as though the spear
sliced through muscle and missed the artery.’

I glanced across at Leandra and the woman.
They were busy consoling the children. I passed him his knife.

‘Chew on the handle. This may hurt.’

I poured some antibacterial fluid onto some
cotton and wiped around the wound.

‘Ease off on your tourniquet and let’s see
what happens.’ There was no sudden spurt of blood. My initial thoughts had
proved to be right. ‘You’re gonna need stitches. The best I can do for now is
to bandage it tight. You can let go of the strap.’

A mixture of grit and determination,
together with the morphine kicking in, helped him not to scream as I tied off
the bandage.

His T-shirt was stained with blood from
where the arrow had struck.

‘Carlos, I don’t know what to do with the
arrow.’

‘Don’t
–
pull
–
it out. Barbs.’

I was pleased he’d reminded me about the
barbs. I thought back to the arrows in the stream. They arrowheads were barbed
all right. He was correct; pulling it out could snag an artery.

‘Listen, Carlos, we need to get everyone to
the cocaine unit. I need to break the shaft so you don’t snag it in the
undergrowth. I’ll leave a few inches of the shaft protruding.’

He nodded, placed the handle of his knife
in his teeth, and gave me the thumbs-up sign.

Grasping the arrow with one hand, I gave
the shaft a sharp twist with the other, snapping it cleanly. This time, the
handle of the knife dropped from between his teeth and he screamed. His head
slumped until his chin touched his chest.

I picked up his knife and slipped it into
my belt.

‘You go,’ he said. ‘Get... everyone to
safety. Leave... leave the gun, take the rifle.’

‘We’re not leaving you here. We’ll wait.’

Leandra joined me and pulled me to one
side. ‘How is he?’

‘Weak. Somehow, we need to move him back to
the cocaine unit. I’m just worried about that arrow. Moving him could cause
more damage. At least we have his assault rifle as well as the gun. Can you use
a firearm?’

‘The gun, yes. The rifle, no.’

I handed her the gun and picked up the
rifle. ‘It’s a double action safety. Take up the slack on the trigger then pull
again to fire.’

‘Okay.’

There was a sudden cacophony of animal
calls. Carlos lifted his head. ‘Natives,’ he said and then groaned.

‘Ours or hostiles?’

‘Ours.’

‘Should we call out?’

‘No, just whistle.’

I placed two fingers of each hand between
my lips and whistled.

‘Simone,’ I heard a voice calling.

The children became excited and both called
out in unison. ‘Papa, papa.’

First, the father joined us, followed by
his two young sons, all carrying assault rifles. One of them was no older than
my son Craig and it made me shiver. The family gathered in a circle, exchanging
hugs. The youngest of the girls clung to her father’s leg.

Leandra exchanged words with the
cocalero
,
and returned to me with her report.

‘He says the Indians waited until the girls
were washing at the stream with their mother. Some of them created a diversion,
while others abducted his wife and daughters. I asked him about Carlos and he
says he’ll get the natives to make a stretcher.’

The
cocalero
tore his daughter’s
grasp from his leg and then left us.

‘Why snatch them?’ I asked.

Carlos said, ‘Like I told you, they wanted
the chief’s daughter, but with him not accepting, maybe they thought they’d
take these girls instead.’

I shrugged my shoulders. The morality of
the situation didn’t bear thinking about. Still, I couldn’t help but think that
the
cocaleros
had brought it on themselves with the slaughter they had
inflicted on the tribe.

‘Will they abandon the cocaine unit?’

‘No
–
too much to
lose. Carlos used his hands to shuffle on his backside and grimaced. ‘No
cocaine, no money. No money, no food.’

‘There must be other work they could get.’

‘I doubt it out here. Maybe illegal
logging. Or burn the wood to make charcoal, unlicensed.’

Whichever way I looked at it, the
rainforest and its indigenous occupants were the losers.

‘Why the glum look?’ Leandra asked.

‘None of this should be happening. The
natives should be left to get on with their lives.’

Carlos laughed, until he choked with a
throaty cough. He composed himself and looked me in the eye. ‘You hypocrite!
What about your founding fathers and the Indians in your country?’

I couldn’t answer him, not having a
political bone in my body. ‘I’ll go and see if they’ve made the stretcher.’

Truth was, I just wanted to take my mind
elsewhere. His question was still burning a hole in my brain.

‘Take the spear and my backpack,’ Carlos
said.

When I picked up his backpack, my jaw
slackened and my eyes widened. A poison dart was lodged in the back of the
pack. Another half-inch higher and the dart would have struck him in the neck.

‘You were lucky,’ I said and used the
discarded cotton to remove it from the pack and threw it to one side.

‘You think?’ Carlos said. ‘I don’t see it
that way. Having a hospital around the corner would be lucky.’

He grasped at his shoulder and moaned.

When I squeezed past the boulder, I saw
that the natives had lowered the body and laid it out next to the stream. The
cause of the man’s demise was apparent, with a stab wound just below his rib
cage and a gash across his throat.

One of the natives stood with his legs
apart in the rock-strewn stream, gathering up the arrows and returning them to
their pouch. He stepped out of the stream and laid the pouch next to the body.
Another man recovered the bow and placed it in the dead man’s hand.

The young boy who had brought us to the
village by boat walked up to me and held out his hand. I guessed he wanted the
spear and handed it to him. He strode over to the body and placed it in the
other hand of the corpse. The older of those assembled started to chant.
Stooping, he cupped his hands in the stream, gathering water. Raising his
hands, he trickled the water over the torso of the body. He stooped again and
picked up a handful of dirt, repeating the process.

Leandra took my hand.

‘This is fascinating,’ I said. ‘Such
respect.’

The
cocalero
appeared through the
foliage on the other bank, followed by two natives carrying a bamboo stretcher.
Carlos came up behind me, defiantly cursing his situation. Two of the natives
had moved him from cover and they helped him onto the stretcher. The wife and
children followed. Then the elder of the tribe faced the other bank, put his
hands to his mouth and made a call that sent shivers through my body.

In the distance, I could hear the call
returned.

‘What was that about?’ I asked, talking to
myself.

‘He’s calling out for them to collect their
dead,’ said Carlos.

I shook my head in disbelief at the
civility of it all. Then we set off in convoy.

After we had trekked for maybe ten minutes,
I caught up with Carlos to check on him. ‘How are you?’ I asked. He was
sweating, and when I placed my fingers on his forehead, it was hot to the
touch.

‘Crap. The only good thing is that the
natives have received word we’re going to return to the villa tomorrow. That’s
why they’re here.’

‘Hang in there, buddy,’ I said and stroked
my bandaged palm, feeling the contour of the key. The villa had been the
furthest from my mind. Here in the rainforest I was free, the only prison being
in my mind and the fear of the unknown. Going back would be as big a gamble as
staying.