by John Sneeden
“He also told me something else. I think it might be helpful.” Max grabbed a stick and used it to draw a dot inside the circle. “He says that there’s a mountain right in the center of the crater. His people believe that many of the strange creatures come from that mountain.”
Zane’s eyes narrowed. He wondered if that was the anomaly that Ross and Chris were looking at back in DC.
“Why do they believe that?” Amanda asked.
“He didn’t say. Apparently the ones that made it back said the closer you got to the mountain the crazier things got. He didn’t use this word, but it’s similar to us saying a certain place is haunted.”
Katiya bit her lower lip then said, “I wonder if this has anything to do with why we’re here. I mean, don’t you find it more than a little strange that the very place we’re going to search for an alien presence is also a place the indigenous people say is haunted? To me it couldn’t be clearer. They saw aliens.”
“It’s not unreasonable to make that connection,” Zane agreed.
“It’s interesting they said things got stranger in close proximity to that mountain,” Amanda said. “Can you think of a better place from which to transmit a signal?”
Zane nodded then looked at Brett. “Do you remember seeing anything like that on our sat photos?”
“No, but I can’t rule out the presence of a mountain, particularly if it’s covered by jungle vegetation. Remember, it’s very difficult to discern topography from a satellite photo. You’re looking straight down at some of the thickest rainforest in the world.”
“I agree,” Katiya said. “If you’re looking straight down, it would likely appear to be one giant swath of green.”
Brett’s eyes narrowed. “I do remember that something caught my attention when I was reviewing the photos. It was a narrow area devoid of vegetation. I assumed it was a stream of some sort because that’s the one place where the canopy was broken. But now that I think about it, the line formed a circle.”
“I don’t follow you,” Katiya said.
“If the bottom slope of the mountain is steep or rocky, you wouldn’t see a lot of trees there.”
Katiya nodded.
“Where in the crater was it?” Amanda asked.
“If my memory serves me correctly, it was right here.” Brett tapped inside the circle. “Dead center.”
Zane thought it was significant that Brett’s anomaly was in the same general area that Osak had indicated earlier. It seemed clear that there was a mountain there. He also had to admit he was intrigued by the Papaqua legends regarding the area around the peak. If they saw some sort of alien being, wouldn’t that qualify as a strange creature?
Brett broke the silence. “I think that settles the question of what we’re going to do once we get in there.”
“We go straight to the mountain,” Amanda said.
Katiya caught Zane’s eye. “I also think we need a certain someone to accompany us.” Before he could respond, she said, “He’s been with us less than an hour and has already provided loads of assistance. Just think how helpful he could be down in that crater.”
“I agree,” Zane said. “Except we’re not in the business of forcing people to do things against their will. It’s up to him.”
Brett looked at Max. “He said he was familiar with the crater. Has he actually been there?”
“He said he’s been to the rim once, but it was at night and he doesn’t remember much about it except that it was a long drop to the bottom.” Max nodded at the ground. “He believes the map Jorge drew is accurate. When the trail comes to the fork, we’ll need to continue straight ahead.”
Katiya looked at Zane. Reading her thoughts, he turned to Max. “Ask him if he’d be willing to come with us.”
The linguist spoke to the boy. His answers came surprisingly quick. When he finished, Max translated his words. “Good news. He said he’ll come with us, but only because he’s afraid our lives are in danger and he wants to protect us. He also said he has two days before his tribe will become concerned by his absence.”
“That’s wonderful.” Katiya beamed.
“Does he know how long it will take to get to the rim?” Jorge asked.
After retrieving an answer from Osak, Max said, “If we hurry, we might get there by nightfall.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
COLONEL ZHENG LEE woke at dawn, hunger pangs gnawing at his stomach. He hated the jungle. The never-ending swarms of insects, the suffocating heat, the lack of a toilet, and now the persistent hunger. And if that weren’t enough, the frugal General Kong had insisted they get by on an exclusive diet of MREs. The only thing those skimpy meals did was keep the stomach acid at bay for an hour or so. Thankfully, Zheng had stowed away his own private supply of rice and fruits.
The colonel tried to force himself back to sleep, but to no avail. Not only was he hungry, but now his bladder was becoming painful as well.
With a loud grunt, he rose his knees. He flipped open the mosquito guard and crawled outside. He stood and stretched his muscles, jump-starting his circulation. Then he turned and made his way through the circle of tents, nodding at two guards who were coming off patrol.
After leaving camp, he continued over to the edge of the jungle about fifty yards away. The newly risen sun had not yet penetrated the thick canopy, but there was just enough light to get around without a flashlight. Finding his favorite clump of ferns, Zheng began relieving himself.
As he stood there, Zheng thought back on their meeting the night before. Apparently the Americans still had no idea what they might find, nor did they know anything about the place they were trying to get to.
Zheng cursed his superiors for sending them on this wild-goose chase. There was nothing out there in the middle of the jungle. After suffering for several days, they would discover what he already knew: the whole thing was a farce. Sure, they would be able to destroy the American team when the time came, exacting some measure of revenge for the dead Chinese Special Forces team, but at what cost? How many men would have to die?
Zheng’s bladder was mostly empty when he first felt the sensation that he was being watched. It was a sensation that he’d learned to heed. Turning slowly, he examined the tangle of jungle around him. If someone were hiding in the maze of lush vegetation, there was little chance he’d see them.
Seeing movement in his peripheral vision, Zheng looked to his left, down the line of trees. When he did, he flinched, causing a stream of urine to soak his pant legs. Standing twenty feet away was a native, his face decorated with reddish-orange stripes. He wore a skimpy loincloth, and a bow and a quiver of arrows were slung over one shoulder.
Zheng weighed his options. The boy couldn’t be old, perhaps late teens or early twenties, but the markings on his face gave him a menacing appearance. The colonel seemed to remember that the brighter the paint, the more deadly the tribe. Or was that poison frogs?
Zheng zipped his pants and turned toward the boy. His expression seemed peaceful, but looks could be deceiving. He was a savage at heart, and savages would kill if provoked.
His pulse quickening, Zheng slid his right hand into the front pocket of his pants. He was careful not to move it quickly, lest he alert the boy to what he was doing. Once inside, he patted his hand around then cursed. He’d left his pistol in his backpack.
What now? Should he run for the tents? That would probably mean certain death. It would take him ten to fifteen seconds to cover the distance, more than ample time for the boy to place several arrows in his back.
What about calling for his guards? It would only take seconds for them to arrive, and should the boy reach for his bow, Zheng could always dive into the bushes.
Pursing his lips, Zheng gave a quick, high-pitched whistle. Hearing nothing in response, he whistled again, this time louder.
Suddenly he heard movement. Turning his head slightly, Zheng saw guards moving out from the tents. They walked casually, unaware that anything was amiss. When they ma
de it halfway to the clearing, the colonel lifted a hand. Once he had their attention, he pointed toward the boy. As soon they saw him, they stopped, startled.
“Cover me, you idiots!” Zheng hissed.
The two men raised their weapons slowly.
The boy suddenly became aware of their presence, and a look of confusion spread over his face. After staring for a moment, he reached into a pouch. Zheng stiffened. What was he doing? Much to his relief, the boy pulled out a piece of fruit. He stepped toward the men and lifted it in the air.
Zheng frowned. It looked like the boy was making some sort of peace offering. Should they accept it? It might be better to keep the natives on their side. Who knew how many were hovering in the trees around the camp. There could be hundreds watching them right now, although Zheng couldn’t see any evidence of that.
The guards looked at their commander warily, unsure how to react. Zheng signaled them to lower their weapons.
Zheng was about to start walking toward his men when something moved in the direction of the tents. He turned and saw a massive figure walking toward them. Ho Chen. The giant normally slept in but must have been awakened by the commotion.
Zheng turned back toward the boy and saw his eyes widen at the sight of Ho. He’d probably never seen any living creature as large as the one coming toward him. For the first time, a tinge of fear appeared on his countenance.
Ho strode toward the boy without hesitation. What was the idiot going to do?
“Be careful!” Zheng shouted. While Ho could crush any other human being in hand-to-hand combat, it would only take one well-placed arrow in the chest to bring him down. Even a man like Ho was susceptible to weaponry. And if Ho was killed, Beijing would hold Zheng responsible.
As Ho drew near, the boy extended the fruit in the palm of his hand.
The giant slowed at the sight of the food. Lieutenant General Huang had mentioned that Ho had the mental ability of a small child, so Zheng had no idea what to expect. The giant seemed confused at the boy’s offer of kindness.
The boy said something, jabbing the fruit toward Ho.
The giant took a few more steps, stopping several feet away.
“Take the fruit!” Zheng shouted. “He wants you to have it.”
Zheng watched as Ho flexed his right hand, which was the size of a dinner plate.
The boy smiled and waved the fruit a bit, trying to entice him to take it. Ho’s hand shot out like the head of a snake, but instead of seizing the fruit, he grabbed the boy’s neck and lifted him in the air. The boy tried to scream but couldn’t get any air through his windpipe, which was being mashed flat by the giant’s vicelike grip.
The boy reached up and tried to pry Ho’s hands away. He might as well try to rip open a locked car door.
Zheng turned away. He was a hardened officer and had seen many horrible things in his life, but what he was witnessing now made his stomach churn. He thought about telling Ho to stop, but then he ran the risk of enraging the giant. Better to let him follow his instincts as a killer.
Zheng cringed as he heard the lifeless body hit the ground with a dull thud. He stole a quick glance. Ho bent over and picked something up.
The fruit.
Ho held it in front of his face, examining it for a moment.
Smiling, he took a bite and began to chew.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
THE ORACLE’S VOICE crackled out of the satellite phone. “Can you repeat?”
“I said we’ve made contact with one of the indigenous people,” Zane said in a louder voice.
“Did you say indigenous tribe?”
Zane stepped up on a lichen-covered log. After checking the other side for snakes, he hopped off and continued walking. “One person, actually. A young boy.”
“You’ve got the linguist there with you.” The signal was better now. Zane could hear the rustling of papers in the background, then the Oracle continued. “Maxwell Cameron. The name escaped me for a moment. Has he been able to communicate with him?”
“He’s not completely fluent, but they’ve been able to talk.” After rounding a turn, Zane saw Tocchet, Katiya, and Max walking about forty or fifty yards ahead. “Ross, we’ve decided to take him with us. He knows this jungle even better than Jorge.”
“Watson, I don’t think—”
“He’s also been able to pass along some information on our crater.”
There was a moment of silence before the Oracle spoke again. “I see.” Another long pause. “And you trust him?”
“Absolutely.”
“He could be leading you into an ambush.”
Zane stopped and turned to his right. He could have sworn he’d heard something back in the woods. It sounded like the rustling of leaves. Wilson had spotted an ocelot earlier, so maybe another of the small cats was following them.
Seconds later, he heard the snap of a twig. Once is happenstance, twice is significant. Crouching, Zane stared through the maze of trunks. Nothing moved.
“Watson?”
Zane stood slowly and began walking again. “Sorry. Yes, that’s a valid concern. In fact, Jorge and I were just discussing that very thing.”
“And?
“A couple of things. First of all, both of us believe he’s reliable. If he’s got us snowed, he’s one of the best actors I’ve ever seen.”
“You really think you can size up someone you can’t even talk to?”
Zane ignored the remark. “Second, I find it hard to believe an indigenous tribe could pull off something that sophisticated. No offense to them, but do you really believe they’d know how to plant someone like that?” Hearing no response, he continued. “Look, I admit I know almost nothing about this boy. And it’s certainly difficult to know what his motivation is for helping us. But he put himself at risk by joining us. How did he know we wouldn’t kill him on sight? To me, the reward of his help outweighs the slim chance he’s going to betray us. Besides, we’re keeping a close eye on our surroundings.”
Even before placing the call, Zane had known this was going to be the Oracle’s reaction. To say the man was cautious didn’t even begin to describe his careful nature. Then again, it had served him well over the years.
“I trust you, Watson. You’re the one on the ground and the one with the most information. Just remember that you can’t completely trust someone you can’t communicate with. None of us truly knows how the indigenous people think.” After a brief pause, the Oracle said, “You mentioned he knows about the crater. What did he tell you to expect?”
“Apparently the place has a reputation. He says a number of tribesmen have ventured in there over the centuries. Some made it out, and some didn’t.” Zane cut himself off. The Oracle was already concerned enough as it was.
“Brazil’s version of the Bermuda Triangle?”
“I guess you could say that.”
“What about the ones who made it out?”
“They were reluctant to talk. Those who did spoke of some pretty bizarre stuff. Too much to go into.”
“What do you think about that?”
“Dr. Mills is convinced there may be some connection between those stories and our mission. She believes it’s too much of a coincidence that the signal may have been transmitted from the very place where local legends say strange things have happened.”
“What do you think?”
Zane glanced ahead and noticed the others were out of sight. He quickened his pace. “That’s a good question. I’ll admit it’s a bit odd.”
“Did he mention anything else?”
Zane thought for a moment. “He did. He claims there’s a mountain in the center of the crater. Apparently it’s the focal point of all these tribal tales. Did you ever get the new sat photos?”
Zane could hear fingers tapping on a keyboard. Finally, the Oracle said, “I’m looking at them now. No, I don’t see a mountain.”
“That was my memory of it as well. But he’s convinced it’s there.”
“I’ll have Chris look for a topo map of the area.”
Zane wondered if he should share what had happened the night before. The news of Nash’s death had already rattled the Oracle, so telling him there was a mole might push him over the edge. In fact, he’d probably send in an extraction team and force everyone to turn over their weapons until they were able to figure out who the infiltrator was. That would essentially shut down the entire operation, something Zane didn’t want to do unless absolutely necessary. They’d come too far for that. Instead, he’d watch a bit longer. In fact, he’d already planned on staying up tonight in case the perpetrator tried to leave camp a second time.
“The doctor does have a good point,” the Oracle said. “This whole thing does seem a bit odd. We get a signal from a large patch of jungle, then we find out that’s a place where a number of people have been killed. In some ways, it makes me feel better about sending all of you down there.”
“Hopefully I’ll have something to report twenty-four hours from now.”
“Regarding the native, I hope I haven’t spoken too harshly of him. He may turn out to be a valuable asset. I guess I’m just trying to help you see both sides. From the outside looking in, it seems too good to be true. An indigenous boy shows up with information that is very helpful. And then he agrees to tag along as your guide. But I trust you, Watson. You’ve always had a good sense about people.” There was a long pause. “Just proceed with caution.”
“We will. I think if you were here on the ground, your gut would tell you the same thing mine does.”
The Oracle let out a sigh. “Fair enough. Just remember we’re responsible for the lives of three civilians, and I want all of you to make it out of there alive.”
“Understood. If it will make you feel any better—”
A loud snap caused Zane to stop midsentence. It seemed to come from his left this time. He frowned. Lowering to one knee, he scanned that section of the jungle. The sun was lower now, making it difficult to see through the tangle of foliage.
