by Bob Nailor
Chapter Eight
MEGAN AND TINGA
Ana’s eyes gave two flicks and popped wide open as the faint light of dawn filtered through the fabric of her tent. Early morning critters screeched and squawked from every direction in the drifting mist that lingered beneath the towering trees. Chilly, humid air had replaced the previous night’s steam bath. She reached over to grab the blanket she’d never imagined she would need and cuddled into the mesh of her hammock.
The warmth of the blanket wrapped around her as tiny noises of Moema preparing breakfast tinkled in from the campsite. She wrapped her arms around her breasts and quiet impressions from her night returned to nudge her memory. Vivid, changing colors from the ayahuasca. The sensations of peace and connectedness with all life. Aaron’s eyes. Edson’s arms. And those fingers.
A chill shot through her body, beginning in her throat. It passed through her breasts and came to rest in the depths of her belly. Ana covered her breasts with her hands. They were alive with sensation, straining into her palms. Her breathing stopped as the experience flooded her mind, as vivid as the dream had been in her sleep. Was it a dream? she wondered. She explored her burning earlobe with two fingers and found the tiny puncture. She sucked in a deep breath, threw the blanket to one side and leaped from the hammock.
She hurriedly dressed. When Ana reached for the necklace and crucifix Father Bora had given her, she couldn’t find it. A quick check reassured her the necklace was no longer in her tent. “Shit,” she muttered. It was too early in an expedition to worry about petty theft.
Ana stepped out of her tent into the familiar sounds of a campsite coming to life. Something sizzled from Moema’s kitchen. Paulo and his men chattered in the distance about the latest soccer phenomenon’s trade to Europe. Neville Hasting’s laugh rose from somewhere. Birds hopped about in search of the insects which scurried about the ground beneath their feet. She stood still, frozen by the overpowering sensation of life around her.
“Good morning,” Barbara called cheerily. “Hope you slept well.”
She and Nancy were fussing with their tents, killing time until she appeared. She waved and hoped her face didn’t give away her thoughts. The men shuffled about here and there, gathering up items for packing and shaking the sleep from their heads. Only Megan was out of sight.
“Is Megan still sleeping?” Ana asked the other girls, glancing over at her quiet tent.
“I don’t know,” Barbara replied and stepped over to check. “That’s curious,” she said, her fingers on the entrance. “The flaps on her tent are tied from the outside so she must be someplace in the camp. So, did you sleep well, Dr. Carvalho?”
“I slept very well indeed,” Ana replied, her eyes suddenly occupied with the leaves she shuffled with her feet. “The ayahuasca was just the thing to relax me. It was very tasty.”
“Aya-what?” Nancy questioned. “I thought Paulo gave you some whiskey to help you sleep.”
Ana nodded her head in agreement. “He did, but Ibiaci gave me a native sedative called ayahuasca. It certainly made me sleep.”
“Well, I wondered a little,” Barbara said. “A couple of times I almost came over to make sure you were okay. I thought perhaps you were having stomach cramps.” She grimaced and shrugged her shoulders.
“Me, too,” Nancy chimed in. “You were really moaning. Were you sick?”
Ana attempted a laugh but didn’t even convince herself. “I was really beat. My whole body ached. I’m not an athlete like you two.”
Ana rubbed her hands lightly before heading for the kitchen. “Let’s find out what Moema’s got for us this morning.”
The three walked without conversation, but not in silence. The jungle was alive with birds and other wildlife; a tiny gray monkey hurriedly swung over their heads using the path of tangled, yet connecting vines and tree branches.
“Good morning, Dr. Carvalho,” Paulo said. “Pleasant dreams, I hope?” The men eating at the camp table turned to greet her with wide smiles and mouths full of something delicious.
“What is it this morning?” she snapped and slammed her hand on a stack of equipment cases. “Why is my sleeping last night of so much interest to everyone? Trust me, I slept very well and yes, I had some very pleasant dreams.” Ana took a deep breath. “Now, is everyone happy?”
“Well, I would certainly hope so.” Dr. Theodouros stepped out of the kitchen tent. He wore a khaki photographer’s vest over a bare chest and arms tanned a deep brown from the Mediterranean sun. “A bit touchy this morning, aren’t we?” His physique was slender but well-conditioned from years in the field. He seemed much less academic now than when fully dressed.
In less than the twinkling of an eye, Ana’s dream rushed back with all of its sensations. The swirling colors. Edson’s arms. Aaron’s eyes. The steamy breath on her neck. And those fingers. Her face flushed a deep crimson and her legs gave out from under her. In a slow swirl, she collapsed to the ground in front of everyone.
Aaron tossed a pot of hot water to one side and rushed to where she lay. “Dr. Carvalho? Ana? Are you okay?” Ana’s eyes rolled up into her head as the color drained from her face. “Marshall, some smelling salts. Hurry,” he yelled then turned his full attention back to her. “Ana?” he called tenderly.
Moema quickly looked about, grabbed a couple of handful of leaves and bark from the underbrush. She rolled it between her palms with her spittle until it formed a twisted mass of green. “Here.” She massaged the mess between her thumbs and forefingers below Ana’s nose.
Ana spun back, turning her head away from the pungent scent, wrinkling her nose. “Ugh! That is truly nasty,” she said and slowly sat up. She rubbed her forehead, her eyes clenched shut in confusion. “I’m not sure what happened.”
Paulo knelt on the other side of Aaron and slipped his jacket around her shoulders. “Are you okay, Dr. Ana?” he asked. “Are you sure you’re up to traveling today?”
“Oh, I’m fine,” she said pushing the two men away and getting to her feet. “I just got a little light-headed. Give me some air, hot tea, a stroll around the camp and I’ll be as fit as a fiddle.”
Aaron fetched more water while she sat still at the camp table. She rested her head in her hands, which still spun from the intense sensations “Perhaps this is an aftereffect of the ayahuasca I put into my tea last night.” She slowly bobbed a tea bag up and down in the steaming camp mug as the men went back to their work. The scent rising from the cup steadied her stomach and calmed her racing heartbeat.
“Ana?” A voice from outside her thoughts called. She shook her head and snapped her eyes open. Aaron sat next to her, his face close to hers.
“Please, Dr. Theodouros,” she snapped with a scowl. “I prefer to keep things more business-like if you don’t mind.” She slurped a mouthful of tea and looked away.
Aaron squinted and pursed his lips. “Fine, Doctor Carvalho,” he snapped flatly. “I was only going to ask how you were feeling now with a little tea and fresh air, but, if you prefer, I can leave you alone.” He stood to walk away.
“My apologies, Dr. Theodouros.” Ana reached out and grabbed his arm. She looked around to see where the five students were; especially the three females. “Look, I’m a single woman and my work is my life. Colleagues love nothing more than juicy gossip around a campfire, especially the students. So I keep a wall between my personal and professional lives. That way somebody else can be grist for the rumor mill.”
“You don’t date?” he asked with a smile. “Do you have somebody waiting back home?”
She cocked an eye at him, wondering exactly where the conversation was going. A sensual flush she couldn’t control surged up from her belly as the memory of her dream rushed back again.
“And why should that matter?” she snapped, testier than she felt. Her heart skipped a beat and, it seemed, the whole jungle with it.
“Well, I thought perhaps when we reached the village I’d take you to a fancy restaurant and we could enjoy a l
ittle quality together time.” He smiled and the jungle sprung back to life with the sound of howling and chattering.
“Your mockery is duly noted, Dr. Theodouros,” Ana said coldly and pushed him to the side, all the while hearing the animals laughing at her. “Now, if you don’t mind, I have things to attend to that really do matter.” She scanned the area, located Paulo, and headed in that direction.
“But, Ana—” She raised her hand to silence him and continued on her way.
“Ah, Dr. Ana,” Paulo called. “I see you are moving about. Are you ready to hit the trail?”
“Not quite yet, Paulo. Have you seen Megan?”
“I thought she was still sleeping, but I see my men have already taken down her tent.” He glanced down. “Perhaps she’s not feeling well.”
“I have no idea,” Ana replied. “I haven’t seen her since last night when I left the campfire. She wasn’t there and I thought she’d gone to bed.”
“I’m sure she’ll show up,” Paulo said.
As if on cue, Megan stumbled from the dense undergrowth into the packed-up remains of the campsite. She staggered, then sprawled onto the ground in front of Marshall. He quickly dropped to his knees to aid her.
“What happened?” Ana screamed and dashed to them.
Marshall had already rolled her over and quietly took in her condition. “Look at her color,” he said, stroking her pale cheeks. “It appears she has lost a lot of blood.” He pulled back her red hair and noticed two small puncture wounds on her throat. “Must be a spider or snake bite,” he guessed and grabbed his first-aid bag.
Paulo knelt at Megan’s other side. His face grew gray and hard. “Mulher morcego,” he whispered so low almost no one could hear him.
Marshall held Megan’s wrist to check the pulse just as she started to move. “She’s coming around,” he said with some relief. “Lie still, Megan,” he ordered and kept hold of her arm. He wrapped his blood pressure cuff around her wrist and started pumping.
Megan moaned and struggled to sit up. “I said lie still, girl,” he ordered as the electronic instrument clicked through its measurement. “Shit,” he muttered as the result flashed on the tiny screen “Ninety over forty.” He ripped off the Velcro wrap and began another reading. “That can’t be right.” He shook his head at the second, identical numbers and looked toward the group, huddled together in concern. “Bring her fluids,” he ordered. “And lots of ‘em.” Moema hustled back with a pitcher of guava juice which Megan, weak and pale, slowly sipped.
“I don’t know what happened,” she finally said. “Last night I got up to get a drink and this morning I woke up on my back in the jungle. I was so weak it felt like it took forever to get to my feet.” Megan broke into tears. “I was afraid you’d left without me, and I didn’t know which way to go. I heard a man’s voice; I thought it was Dr. Theodouros. I followed it here and found the camp.” Her sobbing seemed more from fright than anything else.
Ana took her hand and stroked it calmly. “Well, you’re back with us, now,” Ana said. “Rest a bit. Do you think you’ll be able to hike?” Marshall shot a nasty look at his leader.
Megan nodded her head. “I think so,” she replied in a voice just above a whisper.
“Just rest and drink as much juice as you can,” Ana said. “Everything will be fine. Marshall, take her blood pressure again after she’s downed the whole pitcher.”
“The whole thing?” Megan whined.
“The whole thing,” Ana answered with a smile. “There. You’re already feeling better.”
She stood and looked directly into Paulo’s eyes. “You and me,” she snapped, “we’re going to take a little walk.” He frowned but followed behind her as they left the group.
When they were out of earshot, Ana whirled in Paulo’s direction, her eyes blazing in anger. “I heard what you said back there,” Ana growled. “Last night you regaled everyone with your tales of mulher morcego. I don’t need you feeding their imaginations with your jungle bullshit. We are not your usual eco-tourists, looking for cheap thrills. I need my people calm and focused on our mission. Am I understood?”
“As you wish,” Paulo replied coolly then paused. His eyes wrinkled in a glare. “You pay me to be your guide, Dr. Ana. To be your eyes and ears in the forest. Yet, you pay no attention to my advice and to what’s going on around you.” His speech was more than defiant and had the feel of a warning. “From now on, you decide when things are fine and when you’re ready to go. I’m simply a guide.” The small man’s eyes flared.
Ana had had enough of his superstitions and innuendos. “Fine, Paulo,” she snapped back. “Load up and be ready to move in a half hour. That native woman said our destination was somewhere around a half day’s journey to the village. Let’s get there today.”
“And, one other thing,” he added, his eyes now serious. “I’m missing one of my men, Lúcio, this morning. He’d been with me for fifteen years.” Paulo paused to let the news sink into Ana’s hot head. “Ibiaci says mulher morcego took him away. He was about to relieve Lúcio when it happened. He says he saw it with his own eyes.”
“What makes you think he’s missing?”
Paulo paused and stared at Ana. “He left all of his belongings except for his rifle. When a native runs, he travels light, but with protection.”
“A rifle? You mean one like that?” Ana asked and pointed up into a tall bush where a rifle hung precariously by its canvas strap several yards in the air.
“Why would anyone throw a gun up there?” Paulo asked while stretching to pull the branches down to within his reach. The weapon tumbled into his hands. “Strange. This is Lúcio’s.” Paulo showed Ana the initials carved into the worn stock and again glanced up into the tall bush. “I wonder how it got up there?”
“Maybe he dropped it when he flew away with mulher morcego?” Ana said with a snide scowl. “Shall we go?”
As Paulo stomped away, he bent down to the ground and picked something out of the brush. “Here,” he snapped. “Looks like you lost something.” He tossed the piece her way without as much as a look back.
Ana caught the item and opened her hand to find Father Bora’s crucifix gleaming from the palm of her hand. How did this end up here? She slipped it back around her neck.
Ana returned to where Marshall tended to Megan. Her cheeks had pinked up after more than a quart of thick, sweet juice. She put on a brave face but her fingers trembled as she held onto the metal cup.
Paulo led his men to the small clearing under the big tree. Ana, as usual, fell in behind him with the remainder of the scientists close behind. She was silent, her thoughts taking most of her attention. So far, the expedition had been more than she’d bargained for. The rumors of the evil around them brought back Rossi’s warnings in Singapore. Nothing was as it appeared. Even her dreams took her places she’d never imagined going.
Suddenly, Ana felt the stare. It was the same one she’d felt the day before. It must be her, she thought. The urge to turn back and look at the tree was overwhelming, but Ana fought the impulse. Those red eyes burned in her memory, right next to those of Aaron Theodouros. They both summoned her, drawing out sensations best left dormant in the core of her being. Their plodding march helped. The ache in her legs kept her focused on the world of sweat and strain, safe from her perilous pool of passions.
The morning passed without event. They made two more rest stops than usual to give Megan a chance to recover. Paulo’s slashers opened their path a hundred yards ahead through scrubby brush that had popped up since the logger’s time. They chatted constantly between themselves, arguing about used car prices, soccer players, or the best lottery number to play.
Ana’s team trudged behind, bowed under the weight of their backpacks. Half of the youngsters remained distant in electronic solitude. The other half, the older ones kept their eyes attentive to Mother Nature’s show-and-tell all around them. Tiny monkeys peered between leaves, only to dash away as they approached. Occasionally, tree
snakes quietly slithered between branches, quite content to share the space with their invaders. Butterflies as brilliant as gemstones fluttered between cascades of fruit and seeds. Long-nosed hummingbirds sucked succulent nectar from flowers so impossibly perfect they seemed unreal. For those who opened their eyes and ears, the morning rushed by like the gush of a waterfall.
Suddenly, a native popped up from the side of the path. At first, Ana thought it was the same native but quickly saw the differences. This woman had different red markings painted on her skin which was tanned to a light shade of cinnamon; her hair a lighter shade of brown. And her eyes were not red, but a deep, dark mahogany.
Ana glanced at her apparel and caught Paulo giving her a long wink. Her attire was only a few hand-spun threads which draped downward from her waist. A single filament was tied to the middle and passed downward between her legs. It reappeared between the cheeks of her bottom and continued upward over her right shoulder, down again between her tiny breasts, and finally rejoined the other strands. This was uluri, just as Paulo had described it. Ana understood instantly how Jussara had gotten his attention.
“Are you the expected?” she asked in heavily accented Portuguese.
“This is the group from the United World Foundation,” Paulo replied. He waved hurriedly to Dr. Carvalho for her to join them. “Its leader is Dr. Ana Carvalho.”
The tall native leaned to the right to see around Paulo and appraise Ana. The Indian then walked around Paulo and came to a stop in front of Ana. She pointed her finger at Ana’s breastbone and said “You. Come with me.” When the others stepped forward, she shot them an unmistakable look. “No. Only the woman leader,” she barked. Ana snapped out of her thoughts and stepped forward, trying hastily to paste confidence onto her confused demeanor.
“I am called Tinga,” the native told her. “Our queen has summoned only you. Come with me to the village.” Without a pause, Ana forged ahead into the brush behind Tinga.
