"What?"

His hand fell to her knee. His fingers grazed the skin just above the scabbed flesh of her infected calf. "If you are going to insist on attempting an escape I could remove your clothes. I have a feeling you'd think twice about it. All those poisonous plants and insects. And the hot sun. Not at all pleasant."

"I wouldn't care," she lied.

"Really? Then maybe I'll just do it."

The conversation made Sam uneasy. She changed the subject. "Why do you live in the middle of the jungle?"

"It's my turn to ask a question. Now, where is Brandon?"

"In San Diego."

"Then I guess Alfred was wrong about that as well."

"If Alfred already told you, then why are you asking me?" she asked, frustrated.

"Because now I know how you lie, Sam."

"Is Alfred okay? Can I see him?"

He paused, mulling over his answer. He chose his words carefully. "You're better off forgetting about Alfred from now on."

"What? Why?"

"I only need one scientist," he replied. "That is why you're still alive."

It all made sense. Alfred had lied about her working for H. Hurley International in an attempt to spare her life. For some reason, Guy wanted a scientist.

She chilled. "The only reason?"

He grinned. The hand on her knee slid up her thigh. Fingers slipped under the fabric of her shorts. "Perhaps not the only reason."

She yanked her leg away and dropped the nearly finished bowl to the floor. "Get away from me!"

He scooped up the bowl and threw it at her. The wooden dish struck her on the shoulder and bounced away as she cowered from the blow.

"There are others in the forest," Sam heard herself say. "They're going to come get me. And I don't care how sneaky or . . . or resourceful your pygmies are. They can't protect you from these people."

"You mean Brandon?" he asked. "The poker player? Or perhaps the mercenaries? Those who aren't killed by pygmy poison will succ.u.mb to the forest. No one survives the Msitu wa Damu. They will become lost and die. It is inevitable."

She glared, summoning her haughtiest look. "Everyone except for you?"

"Everyone except for the pygmies," Guy corrected. He stood up and turned toward the door to the baraza. "And me, because I am their friend."

He collected his rifle on the way out the door.

The moment he was gone, Sam struggled against her bonds. The tight thong cut into her wrists and she banged her feet angrily against the floorboards. Finally, she curled against the post, defeated, and began to cry.

19.

It has to be tighter, for G.o.d's sake," Nessa growled.

She yanked the rope away from Ike and pulled the knot tighter, pressing the bandage against her wound in the process. Even as she tugged, she winced from the increased pressure.

"Just didn't want to hurt you, luv," Ike explained defensively, letting go.

"Do you want me to bleed to death, Ike?"

He didn't reply, deciding to let her temper play itself out.

Instead, he watched as Nessa tended to her own leg. Occasionally, she requested some medical supplies: bandages, alcohol, and pain medicine, which he retrieved from her bag.

Raoul sat nearby, legs crossed. Beside him, Kuntolo's body stretched out, eyes closed. The Frenchman wore a plagued expression, although his tears were at an end. Gilles stood at the edge of the camp, staring into the forest, pink and blue in the morning light. Although he held no weapon, he kept a serious vigil for any sign of danger.

"I . . . I didn't mean to snap at you," Nessa said after fixing the bandages.

Ike placed a hand on her cheek and gave her a crocodile grin. This time she smiled back. The warmth surprised him.

Delani emerged from the jungle, moving quietly for a man his size. Only when he stepped up next to Ike did he tuck his pistol away. "I couldn't find the others. But I found these."

Delani dropped three items onto the ground in front of Nessa and Ike. A shattered pair of gla.s.ses, a hook prosthesis, and a single sandal. "There was definitely a fight," he went on. "But no sign of any bodies."

Nessa picked up the bent frame that remained of Alfred's gla.s.ses. She inspected them, noting the dried blood.

"How long do you suppose they were trailing us, waiting for us to split up?" Ike asked.

Delani shrugged.

"And now half of us are dead or gone."

Delani shook his head. "Give Gilles his rifle back," Delani suggested coolly.

Gilles looked up at his name. Ike stood up and unshouldered the rifle. He handed the weapon over as Gilles nodded in thanks.

Something rustled in the forest. Everyone looked into the green boughs. The sound had originated east along the river. Two pistols and one newly returned rifle raised and pointed in that direction.

Brandon stepped through the foliage. Tiny scratches covered his cheeks and his knees were bloodied, but otherwise he looked unharmed.

"Thank G.o.d. You scared the h.e.l.l out of us, mate," Ike said, lowering his pistol. He wrapped an arm around the exhausted man. Brandon leaned against him, grateful for the support. "He's looking a little out of it. Get him some water."

Gilles nodded and headed for the supplies. Meanwhile, Ike helped him sit down in the center of the camp.

"Where are the others?" Nessa asked him. "They were with you."

Brandon shrugged weakly. "We were attacked. By pygmies." His eyes glanced over Kuntolo's corpse. "What happened?"

"Pygmies," Ike replied.

Brandon closed his eyes. He ran a hand through his curly hair.

"Did you see what happened to the others?" Ike asked.

Brandon shook his head. "No. When they attacked we were separated. After that I heard Sam shouting in the forest."

"So they might be alive."

Brandon nodded.

"Still, we're down four," Nessa pointed out. "We need to head back to the village."

"We need to go look for them," Brandon argued.

"And get lost in the jungle?" Nessa asked. "If they're out there, and Temba is with them, they'll head back to the village. Our best chance is to go there."

"That's not true. We're only a few hours away from the pond. Sam would lead them there."

Nessa shook her head.

"Are you sure about that?" Ike asked. "Why would she lead them deeper into the jungle?"

"That's just the way she is." Brandon shrugged helplessly. "She'll expect us to continue on. And after all of that, she'd still be thinking about the stupid plane."

"Even if that's true," Nessa began. "She could be dead. And Temba would lead the-"

"Come on, Doc," Ike interrupted. "None of that." He made a slashing gesture across his throat.

"And what do you think Alfred would do?" Brandon asked. "Would he head back to the village? Or would he be out there looking for his flower?"

Nessa took a deep breath and acquiesced.

"Do we head to the pond then?" Ike asked. He looked around at a few tired nods, the last one belonging to Delani. "We better get moving fast. Who knows if those pygmy b.a.s.t.a.r.ds are gonna come in for another attack? In the meantime, what do we do about Kuntolo?"

Several gazes turned to Raoul, who sat by the body. Delani walked over and knelt beside him, speaking to Raoul in French. "What should we do with the body?"

The Frenchman looked back at the mercenary for several seconds before responding. "The pygmies don't care where they bury their dead. When they move on, the grave is forgotten."

"Do you think we should bury him here?"

Raoul nodded.

They dug a shallow grave a few feet from the river. Ike and Delani carried Kuntolo's body over and settled him in the earth. They covered him with a spare blanket. Then Gilles said a few words in French, an impromptu sermon. He led them in a prayer, again in French for Raoul's benefit. He asked Raoul if he'd like to say anything. The Frenchman shook his head and remained silent. They covered the body, and Ike set a few stones on top. It made the grave seem less empty. Finally, Delani drove Kuntolo's spear into the ground next to the upturned soil.

The whole thing stirred Ike's heart. He felt the strain of loss, although not just Kuntolo's. He almost imagined Kipwe lying in the ground next to the pygmy. He even remembered a few faces from Rwanda and placed them in the dirt too.

As Ike stared at the pygmy spear stuck out of the ground, Nessa stood beside him and he felt an arm around his back. He looked down at her shy expression.

With that out of the way, they walked along the river again. This time Brandon stood at the lead, eager to reach their destination. The American had a lot of faith in his wife's abilities. Let him have that, Ike thought. At the very least, it would keep the man moving.

After a few hours, Brandon announced with certainty that they were almost to the plane.

They'd reach it before mid-day, Ike realized. Surely, the pygmies wouldn't dare to attack while it was light.

Finally, the undergrowth thickened up ahead, and Ike spotted a hole in the canopy where light shone through. Brandon slowed to a steady pace, falling silent. He pointed through the undergrowth. They were at the pond.

Delani gestured for Brandon to fall back and, with his pistol ready, he led the way through the thick brush. Gilles followed close behind, leading Brandon, Nessa, and Raoul. Ike took the rear.

The tiny black pond rippled peacefully in the sunlight. Only at noon when the sun beat directly overhead did the rays reach the marshy water. A few logs floated scattered, torn asunder by recent storms.

The six of them walked out and stood along the muddy embankment.

No Cessna awaited them. The pond was empty.

Ike's eyes scanned to the left where they fell upon a large open swath in the undergrowth. The plants and foliage had been hacked apart and run over by some type of vehicle. A wide corridor led off into the jungle.

"What?" Brandon ran right down to the pond, his toes splashing in the shallow water. "Where is it?"

He ran along the embankment and stopped at a gnarled tree. "Right here. This is where we tied it." He stooped down and lifted a length of rope, sliced at the end. "Somebody came for it."

"Pygmies?" Delani asked.

"Not unless they're driving a semi," Ike noted. He walked in the opposite direction around the pond to the giant gap in the foliage. "Was this here the last time you checked, mate?"

"The militia," Brandon realized.

"I'd say so. By the look of it they came in here with chainsaws and a truck."

"All to get some plane?" Nessa asked. "They cut through the jungle for a plane?"

Ike nodded, though the notion was hard to swallow. Cutting apart the jungle was no easy feat. It would have been a slow deliberate process. They must have wanted the plane intact.

"No sign of the others," Delani noted.

"Not yet," Ike agreed.

Brandon raised his hands to his mouth and yelled, "Sam!"

Delani moved quickly to hush him. "Don't be an idiot."

Gilles watched the foliage, gripping his rifle tightly.