Michael Vey 2

by Richard Paul Evans

“How far is it to the compound?” Wade asked.

  “I think it’s about the same distance as our hike to the boat,” I said. “Everyone ready?”

  Everyone looked tired and anxious, but they all nodded.

  “Okay,” I said. “Let’s go.”

  Jack held up his machete. “I’ll take the lead.”

  We all followed him back into the jungle. Insects continued to flare off my skin in bright blue flashes. Ten minutes into our hike Jack stopped.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  “Look.”

  A jaguar was standing in our path, about fifty feet ahead of us, its green eyes pale in the distance.

  “Zeus,” I said. Zeus quickly stepped up. “We might need you. Just in case it decides to hunt one of us.”

  “Nobody run,” Ostin said. “We should be okay.”

  “Why are we okay?” Taylor asked.

  “We don’t look like what they usually eat. But if you run, it triggers the chase instinct.”

  “Good to know,” Wade said.

  The cat looked more bored than hungry. After a few minutes it turned away and lumbered off into the thick foliage.

  We breathed a collective sigh of relief, then continued hiking.

  Ostin said to Taylor, “I hope we don’t have to deal with those rats. I hate rats. Even without electricity they’re bad.”

  Taylor sighed. “You’re going to tell me everything you know about rats, aren’t you?”

  “Rats,” Ostin said, “are the most successful survivor of any mammal on earth. They can live almost three weeks without sleep, keep themselves afloat in water for three days, and fall fifty feet without getting hurt. That’s the equivalent of us falling off a twenty-six-story building.

  “They’re also breeding machines. In ideal conditions a single pair of rats could produce, in three years, three and a half million offspring. That’s why nearly ninety percent of the world’s islands have been overrun by rats. They cause about half the extinctions of reptile and bird species.”

  “You’re not making this any easier,” Taylor said.

  “Did you know that rats are ticklish and actually giggle?”

  “No.”

  “And they have belly buttons but no thumbs?”

  “Why would I want to know that?”

  “Did you know that a group of rats is called a mischief?”

  “No. Really?”

  “Did you know that rats regulate their temperatures through their tails because they can’t sweat?”

  “Nope. Didn’t know that either.”

  “Did you know that there’s a temple in India where rats are worshipped?”

  “No,” Taylor said. “Maybe you should go there.”

  “Did you know that rats can’t vomit?”

  “Okay, enough. No more rat trivia.”

  “I’m just passing time.”

  “Then talk about something besides rats.”

  Ostin thought about it. “How about snakes? These jungles are slithering with them.”

  “Michael, your turn,” Taylor said, pulling me next to Ostin.

  We hiked another forty minutes before we saw light ahead of us—the edge of the forest. I stopped everyone. “All right, everyone, stay alert.”

  We cautiously approached the forest perimeter. The Elgen fence was only thirty feet from the clearing, and we could see dozens of bulls on the other side. The fence was about twenty feet high with horizontal wires eighteen inches apart. The fence was marked with DANGER: HIGH VOLTAGE signs in both English and Spanish.

  “It looks like a ranch,” McKenna said.

  “It is a ranch,” I said. “Ostin, how far do you think we are from the gate?”

  “It’s about three miles southwest.”

  I stared ahead at the animals. “Can you see the compound?” I asked Ian.

  “Barely. There’s a lot of electrical interference. There are also a lot of security cameras between here and the compound.”

  “A lot?”

  “More than a hundred.”

  I shook my head. “The Elgen and their cameras.”

  “What now?” Taylor asked. “How do we get in?”

  “I think I could lift the wires high enough that everyone could climb under, but then what do we do?” I asked. “With all those cameras, we’d be surrounded by Elgen guards before we got within two miles of the place.”

  Zeus said, “Ian could spot the cameras and I could blow them out.”

  “Yeah, like they’re not going to notice that?” Jack said snidely.

  “Shut up,” Zeus said. “I don’t hear you coming up with anything.”

  “C’mon, guys,” Ian said. “Quit fighting all the time.”

  “Maybe if he’d quit being such a jerk,” Zeus said.

  “You watch your back,” Jack said.

  “Is that a threat?” Zeus asked.

  “Please, stop it,” I said. “We’ve got enough to worry about.” I sat down to think.

  “We need them to come get us,” Ostin said.

  “Sure,” Wade said. “Why don’t we just call them and ask for a ride.”

  “Ostin, tell us your idea,” I said.

  “If we can somehow damage the fence, they’ll have to send out a repair crew. While they’re trying to repair the gate we’ll jump them, take their uniforms and vehicle, and drive to the compound.”

  “How do we damage the fence?” Taylor asked.

  McKenna was looking at the top of the fence. “We could drop a tree branch on it,” she said.

  “Brilliant,” Ostin said. “We find a tree that hangs over the fence, then one of us climbs up with a machete and hacks a branch off so it falls on the fence.”

  “I could do that,” Jack said.

  “It’s worth a shot,” I said. “Let’s find ourselves a branch.”

  We walked about a half mile along the fence line concealed in the shadow of the jungle until we found a tree with a large branch that hung over the fence. The branch provided enough shade that six large bulls were grazing beneath it.

  Jack shimmied about forty feet up the tree, his machete slung through the back of his belt. He climbed out on the overhanging branch, then, straddling it, began hacking away.

  “Be careful up there,” Abigail said.

  Jack smiled and pounded harder.

  “That’s a really big branch,” Ostin said.

  “It will have to be big to damage that wire,” I said.

  “Yeah. I’m just saying, it looks really heavy. I just hope when it breaks off, the tree doesn’t flip back and catapult Jack through the jungle.”

  “We should be so lucky,” Zeus said.

  It took Jack almost fifteen minutes to hack through the branch, and he was soaked with sweat. With each slash of the machete he rained down perspiration.

  When the branch began to crack Jack shouted, “Watch out. Here it goes.” He gave the branch a few more whacks, then jumped onto another tree limb as the branch fell out from under him, directly onto the fence. Sparks shot out in a bright cascade but the branch just flipped off the top wire, doing no damage. We stood there speechless.

  “Crap,” Ostin said.

  I looked up at Jack. He was shaking his head. “That fence is a lot stronger than it looks.”

  “And it looks pretty strong,” Taylor said. “Any other ideas?”

  “Watch out,” Jack shouted. He let the machete fall. It stuck blade first into the marshy ground about ten feet from Ostin, who wasn’t paying attention and jumped when it hit. Then Jack slid down the tree’s trunk and joined us. “Didn’t work,” he said.

  “You need a shower, dude,” Zeus said.

  Jack wiped his forehead. “Yeah, I’m starting to smell like you.”

  The two glared at each other.

  “What we need,” Ostin said, “is a car to drive through the fence.”

  I looked over at the fence and the bulls behind it. “How much does a car weigh?”

  “That depends,” Ostin said. “Are
you talking about a Volkswagen or a six-wheeler?”

  “Something big enough to break through that fence.”

  “A ton should do,” Jack said.

  Ostin nodded in agreement. “That’s about right.”

  “How much do you think one of those bulls weighs?” I asked.

  Ostin smiled. “A ton. At least. The problem is, how do you get a bull to charge an electric fence?”

  “Easy,” Wade said.

  We all looked at him.

  “Oh yeah, my uncle had bulls on his farm. Those things are crazy. I’ve seen videos of them charging a train head-on. You just have to get them mad enough.”

  “How do you do that?” Taylor asked.

  “Call them names,” Ostin said.

  Everyone looked at him.

  “You’re kidding, right?” Taylor said.

  Ostin blushed. “Yeah, of course.”

  “Actually, it’s easy,” Wade said. “Those things are born mean. You just have to throw things at them. It always worked for us. Once we were throwing apples at them and one of my uncle’s bulls got so mad it broke through the fence. He had us up a tree for almost an hour.”

  “Let’s try it,” I said.

  We all went into the jungle looking for things to throw. McKenna found some softball-size seed pods on the ground. We loaded up with them, then picked out the largest of the bulls and started throwing things at him. We managed to pelt him a few times—I even knocked him once in the head—but he was pretty tranquil as far as bulls go. He didn’t even look at us.

  Finally Zeus got impatient. “I’ll do it,” he said. He walked up to the fence and began waving and shouting at the bull. “Hey, want a piece of me? Come and get me, you ugly cow.” The bull looked at him, then suddenly began hoofing the dirt, like it was preparing to charge.

  “I told you they don’t like to be called names,” Ostin said.

  Then Zeus stuck out his hand and shot a bolt of lightning at the bull. The bull stiffened, then fell to its side, rolling all the way to its back, then onto its side again, its legs sticking straight out the whole time.

  “I think you killed it,” Ostin said.

  “Way to go, genius,” Jack said.

  Suddenly the bull climbed to its feet and charged at us.

  “Run!” I shouted.

  The bull hit the fence with the force of a car crash. There was an electric snap, like the sound of a moth on a bug zapper, except a hundred times louder. The bull didn’t break through the wire, but had lodged itself halfway through the fence, and sparks continued to fly all around it. Suddenly the sparks stopped. I looked at the top of the fence. The orange flashing lights affixed to the posts had gone dim.

  “He shorted out the fence,” Ostin said.

  I walked over and touched the fence to make sure the power was really out. It was.

  “Perfect,” I said. “They’ll have to come out to free the bull.”

  “Which will take at least a half dozen men,” Ostin said.

  “All right!” I shouted. “Everyone back to the jungle!”

  As everyone walked back, Ostin grinned at me.

  “What?”

  “I don’t know,” he said. “That ‘everyone back to the jungle’ just sounded kind of funny.”

  “Glad you liked it.”

  “I’m going to use that sometime.”

  It didn’t take long for the Elgen to respond to the damaged fence. Less than ten minutes had passed when Ian said, “Here they come.”

  “The guards?”

  “No. They look like ranchers or something. They’re driving the fence looking for the problem.”

  “How many are there?” I asked.

  “They’ve got two trucks. Three in each of them.”

  “Any guards?”

  “Doesn’t look like it. At least not in uniform.”

  “This is perfect,” Ostin said. “They’ll have to get close to the fence to free the bull.”

  “And while they’re freeing the bull, we’ll take them down,” I said. “Then we’ll take their clothes and trucks.”

  “We should tie them to one of those tangarana trees,” Wade said.

  Abigail looked at him. “What a horrible thing to say.”

  “What were you thinking, man?” Jack said, glancing at Abigail.

  Wade flushed with embarrassment. “I was just joking. C’mon, can’t you guys take a joke?”

  * * *

  The Elgen ranch trucks were larger than regular pickup trucks. And quieter. They looked like a cross between a pickup and a Sno-Cat, without the tank treads.

  “They’re electric of course,” Ostin said, before I asked.

  The first truck stopped just a few yards from the struggling bull. The men, all of them Peruvian and wearing boots, jeans, and white rancher shirts, got out of the truck and walked around the animal, trying to decide what to do with it.

  They talked for about five minutes, then one of them went back to his truck and retrieved a rifle. He pointed it at the bull’s head and fired. When the animal had stopped moving, the men took rope from the truck and tied the bull’s legs together. Then they let out the wire from the truck’s winch, wrapped it around the bull’s torso, and began pulling it from the fence.

  As the animal was being dragged to the truck, one of the men pointed to the branch that Jack had cut. All but two of them walked over to examine it. One of the men crouched down, running his finger over the machete marks. He began speaking excitedly. They looked up to where the branch was cut from, then in our direction. One of them pointed directly to where we were hiding.

  “They’re on to us,” Jack whispered. “We’ve got to attack.”

  “We’ve got to get them closer to the fence,” I said. “That guy’s still holding his gun. Ostin, any ideas?”

  Before he could answer, Abigail stood. “I’ve got one.”

  “What are you doing?” I said.

  “Get down!” Jack said. They’ll see you.”

  “I’m counting on it,” she said, stepping from the shade of the canopy. “I’m betting they won’t be expecting a blond American girl to come walking out of the jungle.”

  Abigail began sauntering toward the fence with a big smile.

  “Zeus,” I said. “Be ready to hit the guy with the gun.”

  “I’ll try,” he said. “But he’s pretty far.”

  “Hola, amigos!” Abigail shouted.

  The men all stopped what they were doing and stared.

  “Excuse me,” she said. “I’m lost. I’m looking for the beach.”

  The men looked at one another in amazement. One of them translated, then they all started to laugh.

  “Hello, how do you do?” said one in broken English. He started walking toward the fence. The rest followed.

  “Pretty girl,” another said. “Come close.”

  “Es un ángel?” one man said. “De dónde vino?”

  “They think she’s an angel,” Ostin said.

  “Taylor, now,” I whispered.

  Taylor concentrated, and the men suddenly stopped talking. Some of them looked around as if they were confused; two fell to their knees, their hands on their heads.

  “Now!” I shouted.

  Jack, Zeus, Wade, and I sprang from the bushes. Zeus began firing, first hitting the man with the rifle, then knocking three others to the ground. I knocked out the two on their knees with lightning balls.

  I tested the fence to make sure it was still dead, then all four of us climbed through the wire. Wade and Jack grabbed the man closest to the fence and dragged him over to Ian.

  “Grab that guy’s rope,” Ian said. “And his knife.”

  “Got it,” Wade said. He took the man’s bowie knife from its sheath, then grabbed his coil of rope and threw it through the fence. “Here’s the knife to cut it,” he said, handing it to Ian.

  McKenna began stretching the rope in long, straight pieces. “How long?”

  “About five-foot lengths,” Ian said. “Here�
��s the knife.”

  “Don’t need it,” McKenna said, her hand burning red. She easily melted through the nylon rope.

  Zeus, Wade, and I worked together dragging the men over to the fence within reach of Ian and the girls.

  “I’ll check the truck for weapons,” Jack said, running toward the first truck. He returned holding two cans in the air. “Check this out. Bull mace.”

  We carried the men into the jungle, where we removed their rancher uniforms, leaving them in their underwear. Suddenly one of the men jumped up and ran.

  Zeus shot at him but was too late, as the man was already in the trees.

  “Get him!” I shouted. Jack and Zeus ran into the jungle after him.

  We finished tying the rest of the men, then I said, “Ian, we better go help them. McKenna, you better come too. We’ll need some light.” I looked at Taylor. “Can you guys make sure they don’t get away?”

  “They’re not going anywhere,” Taylor said.

  Wade held up one of the cans of bull mace. “I guarantee they’re going nowhere.”

  * * *

  Ian, McKenna, and I ran into the jungle in the direction Zeus and Jack had taken in pursuit. Even in the middle of day the jungle was dark enough that a person could hide, at least until McKenna lit up, illuminating everything around her like a great torch. After a few minutes of running we heard shouting in the distance.

  “They’re over there,” Ian said.

  When we caught up with them, the rancher was lying facedown on the ground between Jack and Zeus; Jack was pointing a can of mace at Zeus, and Zeus had his arms outstretched toward Jack, electricity arcing between his fingers.

  “Stop it!” I shouted. They both turned to me. “What’s going on?”

  “Lightning stink shocked me,” Jack said.

  “It was an accident,” Zeus said. “He was standing next to the dude.”

  “I had the dude pinned down, you stinking—”

  “You say ‘stink’ one more time and I’m going to fry you—”

  “Stop it!” I shouted again. “Are you guys crazy? We’re about to walk into a camp of two thousand Elgen soldiers who want to kill us and you’re fighting with each other?”

  They both lowered their hands.

  “If we can’t do this together, we don’t stand a chance. You two have got to stop fighting.”

  After a moment, Jack sighed. “All right. You’re right.” He put out his hand.