This Green Hell

TWENTY-NINE

Aimee pushed yet another frond out of the way as she squelched along the track. It had narrowed even in the few days since she had last traversed it. The jungle swallows everything, she thought.

She walked a few paces behind Alex, who led them out, watching his broad shoulders roll as he stepped smoothly through the green. She had seen more scars on his body, and there was more pain in his eyes, but he was still the man she remembered. She felt good being near him, but found it hard to look into his eyes. Every time she did, she felt the old attraction — and she saw it reflected in his gaze as well. She tried to analyse whether it was the situation that was making her want him again. If she were safe at home, clean, not tired or scared half to death, would she feel the need to have her Black Knight standing guard? Perhaps she was misleading him … or misleading herself.

She looked up at his back again just as a broad leaf flapped back behind him and whacked her in the face.

Yep, thanks, I needed that! Wake up, girl. Are you thinking you’re just going to walk back into his life?

She smiled. You bet, she thought.

Alex looked again at Aimee’s map — less than an hour to the mining site. It felt good to get out of the camp, away from the pervasive feeling of illness, and whatever else it was that made his skin crawl and clouded his senses.

Despite his relief, he was distracted. He could feel Aimee’s eyes on him, as if she were constantly tapping him on the shoulder. He needed to concentrate; the jungle was growing quiet again — he could sense something closing in on them.

They were being watched.

At last Aimee led them to the small clearing where she, Francisco and Alfraedo had discovered the soldiers’ remains several days before. Little of the bloody mess was left, and the ground was churned up as though it had been worked over by a pickaxe.

‘Insectos de la carne,’ Garmadia said, looking first at the churned soil, then higher into the trees.

Sam translated, ‘Meat insects.’

Garmadia toed a piece of white-looking shell; when he lifted it free they could see it had once been the top of a skull. ‘The pigs take most of it,’ he said. ‘What they leave, the insects consume.’ He looked around, his face pale. ‘By the size of the kill zone, I would say a lot of blood was spilt here. This is not good.’

‘It was horrible,’ Aimee said. ‘A massacre. Francisco wanted to know if the Green Berets themselves had done it. I told him no human being could be savage enough to do what we saw here.’

Sam leaned into the bushes and withdrew a mangled piece of black steel. He turned it over in his hands before handing it to Alex. ‘Special Forces SCAR rifle; or was.’

Alex sniffed the muzzle; it had been fired, and the smell of gun oil was still strong. He looked at the metal barrel curled back on itself — took a lot of strength to bend high-grade steel. He remembered the fist marks in the heavy metal plate in the communications cabin back at the camp, and the great strength of the man they tracked. Just who, or what, the hell are you? he thought.

The feeling of being watched was overwhelming … his senses tingled.

He swung around quickly. Garmadia crouched as if he were about to be struck a physical blow.

The presence was right here. Alex lunged into the jungle … Garmadia swore in Spanish as Alex dragged a squirming Chaco and Saqueo into the clearing. Sam laughed and cradled his weapon.

‘This is not what I would call following instructions,’ Alex said with a sigh.

Chaco sniggered, and Saqueo rapped him on the head with his knuckles. He spoke rapidly to Alex, who shrugged and looked to Sam for help.

‘I’ll tell them they must go back to the camp,’ Garmadia cut in. ‘They will slow us down.’ He started to speak rapidly to the boys in a tone that immediately quietened them.

Alex shook his head with resignation. ‘No, too late now. It’s too dangerous to send them back alone. Captain, notice anything?’ Garmadia stopped talking and half-turned to Alex. ‘Listen — no sounds — I think we’re close. They’ll just have to keep up.’ Alex nodded to Aimee.

Aimee spoke in her mangled Spanish to the boys. They leaned around Garmadia and Chaco clapped his hands and Saqueo nodded. In turn, Garmadia shook his head, and stooped to speak into Saqueo’s face with even more venom. He talked quickly, but managed to keep the cigar wedged between his teeth. Chaco had fully retreated behind his older brother, and glanced briefly at the jungle behind him, possibly contemplating a dash for cover. The smaller boy’s bottom lip trembled.

‘Hey! Lighten up Castro. I’ll take care of them.’ Aimee walked between Garmadia and the boys, and said a few words more in mangled Spanish to them. It was enough to have both boys nodding warily and smiling … and only briefly looking over their shoulder at the Paraguayan soldier.

Garmadia threw his hands in the air and turned away. ‘Mierda! Mujeres y niños. Gringos estúpidos.’

Alex grinned. He didn’t need to understand Spanish to know that Garmadia was giving his opinion on the wisdom of bringing women and children along on their search.