Uncharted

by Robyn Nyx

  The leader waved his hand decisively. Chase took it as a demand to stay down so she went to her knees and laced her fingers behind her head. Rayne followed suit. Chase’s heart, already racing for different reasons, was now banging against her chest like it wanted to escape. Wait in line.

  Two of the others approached, lowered their bows, and collected their weapons one-handed. They stuffed the sheathed blades inside the waist of body wraps around their butts and upper thighs that looked only slightly thicker than paper. The leader barked another instruction, directed at the two closest to them. Chase made out the words, rope and bind.

  “Don’t struggle. Let them tie you up. Everything’s going to be fine.” Chase made sure her voice sounded calm though she knew Rayne wasn’t someone who panicked. If the Indians were inclined to instant violence against brancos she and Rayne had jumped the first hurdle. Now she had to hope she could convince them that, unlike most white people they crossed paths with, their intentions were good.

  Chase had a theory that, despite their tendency to span across thirty plus thousand square miles of the rain forest, they somehow communicated across tribes to keep each other safe. She hypothesized that all of the Indians were from a single original tribe, and the names given to them by white intruders or FUNAI protectors were crude misunderstandings of the interlinked nature of the whole indigenous population. If her postulations were correct, this unexpected meeting would turn out to be exactly what they needed to help keep them out of Turner and Owen’s way.

  Another of the Indians removed Chase’s backpack, then Rayne’s, and took them back to the leader. He emptied them both of everything, inspected it all, and nodded, apparently satisfied. The other guy repacked them and threw them both over his shoulder.

  Chase remained compliant and as motionless as possible as her hands were pulled behind her back and thin, wiry vines were wrapped around the wrists. They were guided back to their feet and pushed forward.

  The leader headed along the bamboo path and Chase and Rayne followed, with the rest of their party close behind. Within moments, they were out of the FUNAI compound and enveloped in the dusky darkness of the forest.

  “Checking in, lady boss. You find anything?”

  Ginn’s voice crackled in over both their radios. The leader jumped before he spun around and looked at them for the source of the noise. Chase pushed her right hip forward to offer her radio.

  “Friends,” Chase said again, then said she needed to answer them or they’d try to find them. It wasn’t quite that fluent, but the leader seemed to comprehend because he unclipped Chase’s radio from her waistband and put it up to her mouth. His other hand held the tip of his arrow to her throat. He pressed the talk button, indicating that this group had not only come across white people but was also familiar with their technology.

  “There’s a hut at the back that should work,” Chase said. “We’ll come back to the boat shortly. Meet us there.” Chase felt the arrow point nick the underside of her chin, caused by her jaw movement when she spoke. The leader withdrew both the arrow and the radio. He looked slightly apologetic when he saw her blood on his arrow, but he wiped it on his wrap and said nothing. He put the radio in the animal skin knapsack hanging over his shoulder, nocked the arrow back onto his bow, and turned back into the forest.

  They walked silently for another fifteen minutes before the radio disturbed them again.

  “Have you guys gotten lost?” Ginn asked.

  Chase didn’t know Ginn at all, but she could hear the worry poorly disguised in her casual tone. The leader turned and repeated the same process.

  “Sorry, Ginn. We’ll be there in ten minutes.”

  The leader nodded, and Chase began to wonder how much of what she was saying he understood. She remained relaxed. If they were going to kill them, they wouldn’t have trekked them all the way into the forest to do so.

  Ten minutes of quiet progress was made before the radio rumbled into life again.

  “Tonyck is so pissed with me. Where are you? I’m at the huts. Fresh tracks. More than just you two. We’ll find you.”

  The leader turned again, his expression more irritated now, and shook his head. “Nah. No follow.”

  He retrieved Chase’s radio once more and offered it to her mouth. This time, his arrow tip was absent.

  “Ginn, we’re okay. Don’t try to track us.” Chase looked at the leader, trying to figure out his intentions, but his face might as well have been made of clear glass. Nothing.

  “What the fuck are you talking about? Where the hell are you?”

  Chase hadn’t missed Tonyck’s particularly unfriendly way of communicating with her. “We’re with a small group of natives. We’re safe, and we’ll be back in the morning.” Explaining why they were there would take some time. If they were being taken to the tribe’s home, she wouldn’t be in a hurry to try to leave tonight and undoubtedly offend them. She pinned her hopes on the bindings and bows being mere precautions.

  “Fuck that. Where’s Rayne? Why isn’t she saying anything. If you’ve let anything happen to her, I swear to—”

  The leader pressed the talk button. Apparently, he had as much patience for Tonyck’s attitude as Chase did. She smiled in thanks.

  “I’d never let anything happen to Rayne.” Chase bit her lip, glad that Rayne could only see the back of her head. “We’re both fine.”

  The leader took the radio and walked past Chase to Rayne. Chase turned slightly to the side so she could see what was happening but didn’t move enough to kickstart the others into action. Rayne looked to Chase for guidance, and she nodded. “Calm her down,” Chase said quietly.

  “Tonyck, I need you to relax.” Rayne kept her eyes on Chase, who simply continued to nod slowly. “Make camp, and we’ll join you…” She raised her eyebrow at Chase. She smiled and winked. “We’ll rejoin you in the morning. We’re where we need to be. That’s an order, Tonyck. I need you to stand down.”

  The leader depressed the talk button, again evidencing he understood at least enough English to know that Rayne had said what she needed to or all he was going to allow her to say.

  “This isn’t cool, Rayne. We’re supposed to be wherever you are,” Tonyck said.

  Chase heard the anxiety in her tone, just as she had with her sister’s. Ginn was probably kicking herself for letting Rayne go without her, or Tonyck was kicking her anyway, and Chase sympathized. But when Rayne made a decision, little would deter her from that choice. Chase would rather she was here with Rayne and not either of the tank twins anyway. She suspected neither of them would have had the sense to go quietly to their knees, and the situation could have ended up bloody.

  The leader twisted the volume switch to the off position and slipped it back into his knapsack. He must have noticed Rayne also had one when he approached her, and he took that one too, switching it off, before dropping it into his pack. He returned to the head of the group, and Chase picked up the pace he set. She could feel Rayne almost vibrating behind her. Rayne wasn’t used to being told what to do, and so far she’d had to do everything Chase had instructed her to do. Chase felt sure she’d pay for it later, somehow…when they were no longer trussed up like rodeo calves.

  * * *

  Darkness fell in the rain forest, making it virtually impossible for Chase to see the end of her nose. When she stumbled and nearly fell for the sixth time, she stopped walking and Rayne collided into her back.

  “Oh, bugger.”

  Rayne stayed close. Chase liked the feeling of Rayne’s body pushed against hers, and she pushed back at her. The five behind them didn’t join the pileup, making Chase think that they had some kind of clever jungle-vision developed from generations of navigating its blackness without fire torches or flashlights.

  “I can’t see,” Chase said in English, then repeated it in Tupi- Guarani.

  The leader said something about releasing them, and their bindings were removed. Chase rubbed her wrists, but the indentations from the vi
nes weren’t particularly deep. If she’d been inclined or if it had become necessary, she could’ve escaped, but the group had needed them bound to feel safe, and that was okay with Chase. Under different circumstances, she might’ve happily been tied up when Rayne was close.

  The leader took her hand and placed it on his shoulder as he turned. He’d either concluded they were no threat, or he was convinced they wouldn’t be able to find their way back to the FUNAI HQ in the pitch-blackness that enveloped them. Chase reached behind and found Rayne’s hand. “Put your hand on my shoulder and stay close.”

  “You’re enjoying being in charge, aren’t you?” Rayne asked quietly, her breath warm on Chase’s ear.

  Chase grinned, happily aware Rayne couldn’t see. “Shh. No talking.”

  They continued like a human train for another mile or so before Chase saw several small huts in the distance, outlined in the shadows provided by dancing firelight. As they drew closer, Chase made out at least another fifteen people, men, women, and children, moving around the small encampment or sitting beside the fire. Three women began to move toward them, but when they saw Chase and Rayne, they stopped in their tracks.

  A heated conversation ensued, and Chase didn’t need to know the language to understand that the women weren’t impressed by their impromptu visitors. Anger transcended the need to comprehend words. Chase suppressed the desire to smile as the leader bowed his head, and she heard the word for sorry repeated too many times to count. She did love a good matriarchal setup. She heard the words friends and help too. Chase figured the leader had come across enough white people to know that some of them could provide some assistance, and she guessed it was a medical emergency that had brought them to the FUNAI HQ. That also explained why he’d inspected the contents of their packs before taking them captive. Maybe they’d been searching for a first aid kit, but what injury could’ve befallen one of them that they couldn’t cope with themselves with their usual methods?

  The women scowled but stepped aside to let them pass, and the leader beckoned her and Rayne to follow. Chase took Rayne’s hand and pulled her close as they walked past several huts and the inquisitive stares of the tribe’s children. The leader stopped at a hut and carefully peeled back the door, made from vines and bamboo and tied to the structure. He motioned into the hut, and they went inside. Lying on a bed of palm leaves was a young girl no older than eight. A bloody rag wrapped around her upper arm gave Chase the answer to her question—a bullet wound.

  “You fix,” the leader said in English. “Make better.”

  “How long ago?” Chase asked and accompanied her words with the charade of her hand as a gun.

  He held up a finger. “One day.”

  Chase searched her memory for everything Noemie had ever told her about the operations she’d had to do on her tours. One day wasn’t specific, but given how long it took them to get here, it must’ve been at least three hours ago. That meant the kid, though unlucky to have gotten shot, had been lucky enough that the bullet hadn’t busted through her brachial artery. Otherwise she’d already have bled out and they might’ve reacted by killing the closest white people to them in revenge. Bonus. Chase had read about bullets being left inside the body for fear of doing more damage by removing them, but long term, lead poisoning had been recorded. Shit. She also suspected that they’d want the bullet removed simply because the thing inside her was the work of white devils.

  Chase turned to the leader, about to say that she needed her backpack, to find him already holding both of their packs. Chase put her hands together and lowered her head. “Thank you.” She upturned her bag and let the contents empty to the ground before sorting through them and picking out her first aid kit. Noemie had packed that piece of luggage, one of her own combat med kits, and conscientiously checked that each item was present and fresh. She’d listed them out loud, but Chase hadn’t paid too much attention. Her mind had been on why she’d agreed to go with Rayne on this crazy adventure. She wished she’d paid a little more attention.

  Chase knelt beside the little girl and held her palm over her forehead. She had a fever. “Wet. Water,” Chase said and gave the leader a piece of cloth from a mound of them by the girl’s head. He passed it to another man waiting behind him and repeated the instruction in his own language. The exchange reiterated that the tribe must have had some sort of prolonged contact with white people or at least people who spoke English.

  She felt the warmth of Rayne’s hand on her shoulder, and she crouched down alongside Chase.

  “Do you have any idea what you’re doing?” Rayne moved her hand to Chase’s thigh.

  “I used to watch Scrubs reruns when I was a kid. Does that count?”

  Rayne punched her thigh. “This is serious, Chase. You can’t just go poking around in there.”

  Chase looked up at Rayne and smiled. “Don’t worry. Noemie’s shown me a trick or two, and she gave me a quick med combat lesson before your limo picked me up—thanks for that, by the way. Nice way to travel.”

  “Chase…”

  Chase placed her hand over Rayne’s. “I told you everything was going to be okay, and it will be. I’m trying to make you laugh to calm you down.”

  Rayne huffed and withdrew her hand from beneath Chase’s. “I’m calm. I’m always calm.”

  “Okay then.” Chase turned her attention back to the girl and asked her name.

  “Mutapi,” she whispered.

  “I’m going to help,” Chase said in the same language the girl had understood. “But you have to be brave. It will hurt.”

  Mutapi nodded and held out her hand. The leader dropped to his knees and clasped her tight enough for his knuckles to whiten. Chase realized he was Mutapi’s father. She reached out and touched his forearm gently. “It’s going to be fine. I’ll fix her.”

  He touched his free hand to his chest twice and once to his forehead. Chase didn’t need words to explain. His daughter was everything to him.

  “Muscles and medical expertise. Two more things to love about Chase Stinsen.”

  Chase stiffened. Love? An innocent turn of phrase or a deeper meaning? She shook it off, stupid to consider, even briefly, that it was anything other than Rayne being flippant. She stopped her mind from wandering back to the kiss they’d shared. She’d parse that out later. Right now she had to concentrate on digging a bullet out of an innocent little girl’s arm. This was fast becoming Chase’s most interesting adventure yet.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chase knelt at Mutapi’s side and dabbed the wet cloth on her forehead. She’d cooled considerably since Chase had removed the bullet and closed the wound. Mutapi’s father, Jabuti, hadn’t left her side since, though he had panicked slightly when Chase gave Mutapi a light anesthetic to knock her out while she stitched the wound. There’d been no other visitors to the hut, causing Chase to assume Mutapi’s mother was no longer around. With Mutapi taking a bullet, Chase wondered if her mother had met a similar fate and hadn’t made it.

  Rayne hadn’t left the hut either, and though there was nowhere she could really go, Chase had been grateful for the company. Rayne, now perched on top of a small chair in Chase’s eye line, became more of a distraction. Chase couldn’t resist quick glances up at her, and every time she did, Rayne met her gaze and smiled. Rayne’s initial smile had been innocent, but each time Chase looked up, Rayne’s smile got a little bigger and a little more knowing. Confident was probably a better description, as if she could see Chase was thinking about their earlier kiss.

  It was some kiss, but Chase was already partially regretting it. Not the kiss itself as such—that had been electric—but their situation. She’d instigated it, and took full responsibility for that, but she’d been reckless to succumb to her feelings for Rayne here. Of all the places it could’ve happened, Rayne had chosen this one to reveal the only piece missing in making her the perfect woman—a heart.

  Chase wrung out the cloth in the bowl, dipped it again, and replaced it on Mutapi’s
forehead. “She’s going to be all right,” she said to Jabuti. On cue, Mutapi stirred, focused her dark brown eyes on Chase, and grinned. Her smile spoke of everything it should—childhood innocence, hope, and unguarded openness. How she could be that way after taking a bullet likely from a white man, Chase didn’t get, but she was thankful Mutapi was that way. “She’s a tough kid.” Chase gently pinched Mutapi’s nose and was rewarded with the cutest of giggles before she stepped away to give Jabuti unfettered access to his daughter.

  Rayne stood up and joined her, while Jabuti and Mutapi chatted quietly. Chase felt Rayne’s hand on the back of her neck, and she shivered at the touch.

  “Sensitive?” Rayne asked, drawing light patterns with her fingers.

  “I think it’s the sun. Maybe I didn’t put enough protection there.” Chase didn’t want to accept that such a simple caress could affect her that much.

  Rayne didn’t rebuke Chase’s excuse, but Chase could feel her silent disagreement.

  “That was all very impressive.”

  “Oh yeah?” Chase couldn’t deny she wanted to impress Rayne and show her that she hadn’t made a mistake in asking her to accompany them on this adventure. In all honesty, she’d impressed herself. She would enjoy regaling Noemie with the tale on her next official leave too. And she owed her a giant burger since Noemie had bet Chase would need her kit before the end of the third expedition day. “Not dead weight after all?” They hadn’t been Rayne’s words, but they still stung, and Chase was having trouble letting them go.

  “I never called you that.” Rayne began to play with Chase’s hair and twist it into little tufts. “But, fear not, I’ll make sure that Tonyck hears all about your heroics tonight.”

  Rayne’s nonchalant intimacy was making Chase want to sink to the ground, pull Rayne with her, and continue their interrupted make out session. Think serious thoughts. She rolled her neck, and Rayne’s hand fell away.