Lovers and Gamblers

by Jackie Collins

  Strengthened, they set off once more on their journey. Supporting Paul between them, Dallas and Al led the way.

  ‘We won’t go far today,’ Al said – he estimated it was already well past noon – ‘but however little, it’s something.’

  The river was becoming wider and wider, and they were getting quite used to the sight of the alligators resting on small islands in the middle. Nobody was about to forget what had happened to Bernie – so they were extra careful. At one point they came across three or four baby alligators slouched on top of each other blocking their path. Quickly they detoured further into the forest, unwilling to risk upsetting the mother.

  It was hard work propelling Paul along – but Al encouraged Dallas to keep going. She did so – moving one leg stiffly in front of the other. Tripping, being ripped and scratched by the overhanging boughs, allowing the filthy flies and mosquitoes to settle on the parts of her body that were exposed and lay their disgusting eggs. She was just too exhausted to brush them away.

  She only kept going because of Al.

  She couldn’t let him down – he was so sure they would find help – so certain of being rescued. Soon he too would realize it was hopeless. Soon he would allow her to lie down and not get up again. Soon… Soon… Soon…

  ‘Sonofabitch!’ Al exclaimed sharply, ‘what the hell’s that?’

  Dallas looked ahead. She could see nothing but the river and jungle.

  Al let go of Paul, his full weight came down onto Dallas, and the two of them fell to the ground.

  ‘Wait there!’ said Al excitedly.

  Dallas closed her eyes. She couldn’t get up again.

  Evan and Cristina also sank to the ground, glad of the respite.

  Al rushed ahead, spurred on by what he had thought he had seen around the next twist of the river.

  He had not been mistaken. About fifteen yards from the bank of the river stood a hut. A primitive structure as he could see – but it was man-made.

  He wanted to shout and scream. Yell out greetings. They had made it!

  He hurried to the hut. It was empty. In fact it was hardly a hut – more a thatched roof supported on four posts, with a crude dried mud floor. There were no walls, and no sign of recent habitation. A vine was secured across part of the roof from which hung a large dead snake. Several spiders had spun their intricate webs and made their home there. A lizard stood stock still in one corner. A parade of ants marched to and fro up one of the posts.

  Al squatted down on the floor, disappointment flooding through him. He had thought… Aw – to hell with what he had thought… At least it was a roof for the night, and at least it proved they were probably near some kind of human habitation. It proved above all that they weren’t alone out here. That sometime – someone had built this shed.

  He pulled the dead snake off the vine and slung it out into the jungle. It was completely dried up, must have been hanging there for quite a while. The lizard made a wild dash for safety before Al had even considered it as a possible source of food. Roast monkey – hog – why not lizard? Too bad he hadn’t thought of it before.

  Well, at least they would sleep with a roof over their heads tonight.

  He went back for the others, and slowly they staggered to the refuge he had found for them.

  ‘It ain’t the Beverly Hills,’ he quipped, ‘but it beats the shit out of sleeping on the ground!’

  It was sheer luxury. Ravenously they finished off the pieces of hog, and even Paul was able to chew some. Once more the fever was receding, leaving him weakened but intelligible.

  They discussed the significance of finding the hut. It was a definite plus. It did mean that people had been here – in which case they must now be within travelling distance of human life.

  By nightfall they settled down to sleep in comparative comfort. They even felt it safe to remove their shoes and socks and free their imprisoned feet.

  In the middle of the night Cristina woke them all with some unearthly screams ‘My foot – my foot!’ she screamed, and a black shape fluttered away to escape her writhings. Al inspected her foot. It was spotted with blood and marked.

  ‘Probably a vampire bat,’ Dallas said dully. ‘They suck out the blood… I don’t think it’s poisonous.’

  They tried to calm the frightened girl, while Dallas soaked a rag in water, and wrapped it around her foot.

  ‘Maybe we should all put our shoes back on,’ she suggested, ‘but shake them out first…’

  Al couldn’t sleep after that. His mind was racing. If he left them at the hut and travelled on alone he could make much better time. They had plenty of water. In the morning he could find some more food to leave with them. And the gun for their protection. Yes – it was the only way. He was the strongest… He could move fast… and speed was of the essence. If Paul didn’t get medicine soon… and Cristina was in a bad way… even Dallas was in a weakened state. Only Evan seemed strong enough to continue.

  Al swelled with pride at the thought of his son. What a man he had turned out to be. The King blood flowed strong in his veins. And to think how disappointed he had once been in him.

  By morning Al was prepared to go hunting. Quietly he woke Evan, and told him where he was going. Evan wanted to accompany him – but Al suggested it was best he stay with the others.

  He set off into the jungle, feeling quite at home, and confident of a kill. He soon came across some monkeys and approached them stealthily. He raised his gun ready to fire, and the thought occurred to him that what was he going to do when he ran out of bullets? It wouldn’t be quite such an easy job then. He fired, reckoning he would face that problem when he came to it. One of the monkeys fell – this time it was a clean shot, and the animal was dead. He picked it up by the legs, and carried it back to the hut.

  It was ridiculous – perverse really – but he was almost enjoying himself. The challenge of getting them all out of this mess… and he was doing it. Single-handed. He was providing shelter and food – and soon – he was sure of it – he would find them medical help.

  It was a great source of achievement that he had been able to accomplish this. He – who in the past had been so spoiled that all he had to do was pick up a telephone and request anything he wanted – and get it. He could not honestly remember a time when he had had to do something for himself. Now four other people’s lives depended on him – and if it was humanly possible he would save them.

  He told Dallas of his plan to travel on alone.

  She nodded, her beautiful eyes filled with defeat.

  He squeezed her hand, and was suddenly overcome with a very tender love for her. ‘If I don’t find anything in the next two days – I’ll come back. The monkey should last that long and you’ve got plenty of water. You’ll be fine – won’t you?’

  She managed a weak smile. ‘If you say so.’

  ‘I’ll leave you the gun…’

  ‘I love you,’ she interrupted softly. ‘Whatever happens, I love you.’

  ‘We’ll make up for lost time when we get out of here. Screw work – you and I, lady, are just going to laze around making love and having good times for at least a year. You like that plan?’

  ‘I like it…’

  He bent down and kissed her. A long, insistent kiss. And he felt the beginnings of a hard-on, and he laughed – because shit – if he could still feel horny after all they had gone through –well, jeeze – that meant he wasn’t ready to give up yet. He was a survivor. They all would be.

  He went over to Paul and said, ‘Hang on in there, brother, I’ll be back before you know it. We’ll bung you full of medicine – you’ll be in great shape – you’d better be – there’s a lot of contract-breaking I want you to do for me. You know I’m lost without you.’

  Paul grabbed him by the arm, his voice hardly more than a whisper, ‘I want you to forget what I said the other day – I didn’t mean it. Can you forget I said anything?’

  ‘I don’t remember a thing.’

 
Paul nodded, the muscles in his face twitching, his eyes more sunken than ever. ‘If I die,’ he said slowly, ‘I want you to look after my children. I want…’

  ‘Don’t talk such crap. You’ll be good as new once they stuff some medicine down you.’

  ‘Sure,’ agreed Paul weakly, ‘I know that. But if I die… the children… promise me they’ll live with you… I don’t want Melanie to have them… she doesn’t care… promise me, Al.’

  ‘I promise – I promise. Big deal. You ain’t goin’ nowhere.’

  ‘And Linda… take care of Linda…’

  ‘Jesus!’ Al threw his eyes upwards in mock despair. ‘Dictate me your will while you’re at it!’

  Paul hung on to his brother’s arm even tighter. ‘Take it easy,’ he whispered.

  Al nodded, frightened of the strong emotions he felt. ‘I plan to, kid, I plan to.’

  Cristina was sleeping, Evan by her side, swiping the flies away from her immobile body.

  ‘You look after everybody,’ Al said sternly, ‘you hear me?’

  ‘Yes, Dad. You can depend on me.’

  Al stared at his son, hardly recognizing him. The boy seemed to have thrived on the deprivations of the past twelve days. He no longer seemed scrawny – more thin and wiry – and now that his sunburn was clearing up and turning into a deep suntan, miraculously his acne appeared to have vanished.

  Emotively Al hugged him. Then he was on his way – moving quickly along the sinuous river bank, making good time. He had to. They were all depending on him.

  * * *

  The day passed in a haze for those at the hut. They lay in a somnolent state, sweating through the day, and shivering at night.

  Evan skinned and roasted some of the monkey. It didn’t really matter what it tasted like, it was edible, and it filled their empty stomachs.

  Paul was drifting in and out of a fevered state. He didn’t want to eat. He didn’t want to move. He was beginning to waste away.

  Cristina, too, was in a bad way. She whimpered quietly to herself, moaning constantly about the pain in her arms.

  Dallas felt incredibly weak and nauseous. She managed to eat the monkey, but after, she suffered very bad abdominal pains, and was forced to leave the hut and retch it all up.

  Evan watched over everyone, clutching onto the gun, unable to help any of them, but ready to face any emergency.

  Night brought relief from the heat, but it also brought frightening rustling noises and animal cries.

  Evan wondered about his father, out there somewhere in the murky blackness alone. He had taken no food – no gun. How could he expect to survive and come back with help? What was going to happen to them all?

  Evan tried, he tried his hardest. But all through the night tears rolled down his cheeks.

  His father had left them alone. They were all alone. And one by one they would die.

  * * *

  Al was amazed at the speed with which he could travel now that he didn’t have to consider four other people. He stuck to the river bank for a while, but then it occurred to him that it would make his going much easier if he swam. The wide river seemed to have a strong current which would carry him along nicely. Also being in the water would protect him from the fearsome heat. Of course there were dangers. The alligators would have to be watched out for at all times. But he figured if he stayed close to the bank and was careful… He slid into the delightfully cool water and allowed it to carry him along. It was a much easier way to travel. The current was strong and it was no effort for him to allow himself to be swept along. In fact it was rather pleasant. The first time he saw some alligators ahead he got out quickly. But they were merely lolling on an island and took no notice of him. The second time he risked staying in – they were on the opposite bank and didn’t even notice him floating past. After that he stayed in the water unless they loomed ahead dangerously close.

  By dusk he was starving hungry. He hadn’t eaten all day, and there seemed no likelihood of any food. He looked longingly at a tree heavy with berries, but he remembered Dallas’s warning about things being poisonous. It was stupid of him not to have provided himself with food, or at least the means to get some. He was no superman. He would not be able to keep going on water alone. He just hadn’t thought. So sure was he of the fact that he was going to come upon human life.

  He found a tree to curl up under for the night, and slept – fitfully. By dawn every bone in his body was aching, and muscles were hurting that he never knew existed.

  He stood and stretched, tried to limber up. It didn’t help, but he set off anyway, sticking to the bank of the river until the sun became warm, and then slipping back into the current to be carried along.

  His thoughts were of food. Roast chicken. Sizzling bacon and eggs. Succulent veal. Steak and kidney pud.

  He shut his eyes for a moment, imagining himself sitting down for a large slap-up meal. He would drink beer… Or perhaps champagne… yes – certainly champagne – for it would be a celebration meal… He grinned at the very moment his body slammed into a large tree trunk fallen across the river. He clung to it for support, his head whirling – lights flashing before his eyes. He had been knocked almost senseless.

  With great effort he dragged himself from the river and crawled along the bank – collapsing in the mud.

  He could feel his forehead beginning to swell where it had taken the force of the collision.

  What next?

  He lay very still, partially stunned. And after a while, as if in a dream, he heard voices – strange foreign sounds – and then it was all too much and he passed out.

  * * *

  Inevitably morning dawned. The insect and animal sounds filtered through to Dallas. And the smell of four people stuck together unable to wash or clean themselves. It was a sickening smell, but one you soon got used to. If she had the strength she would go to the river and bathe – to hell with the alligators – but she felt unable to move. Her stomach was still cramping, but she had nothing left to throw up. She felt so very weak, and there was this strange euphoric feeling. A lightness of the head, an immovability of the limbs. She tried to sit up, and fell back. If a snake had entered the hut at this point and headed towards her she would have had neither the strength nor the initiative to move out of its way.

  Evan offered her water. ‘Shall I make a fire and cook the rest of the monkey?’ he suggested.

  She sipped at the water. ‘No food,’ she mumbled, ‘don’t feel good.’

  He placed a hand firmly on her head, and was alarmed to find her burning up. With dismay he realised that she too had some sort of fever. He did not know what to do. Cristina was flushed and delirious. Paul was dehydrated and possibly unconscious and he had been unable to rouse him. And now Dallas.

  A black terror swept over Evan. He had promised his father to look after them all. But how could he look after them if they were going to die on him one by one?

  It was an impossible situation. And one that he was powerless to do anything about.

  * * *

  There was a moving sensation – not unpleasant. And still the strange mutterings – only clearer now – more excited.

  Al opened his eyes to find himself being carried on some crude sort of stretcher – and for a moment he imagined he was being carried from the plane, and the thirteen days spent in the jungle had never happened.

  His head was pounding, and he raised his hand to it, and felt something warm and sticky. He lowered his hand to find it covered with blood. He must have groaned aloud, because the stretcher was suddenly put down on the ground, and three faces were staring down at him. Three young Indian boys – perhaps sixteen years of age. They were of a deep mahogany colour, with wide, rather flattened faces, and jet black straight hair worn long and parted in the centre. They were totally naked apart from a small piece of cloth twisted around their loins. But they compensated for their lack of dress by being liberally decorated with painted symbols and designs.

  They stared at Al
and chatted amongst themselves in a language he had never heard in his life.

  ‘English,’ he said slowly, and then realizing he had been found, and remembering what had gone before, he raised his voice: ‘English!’ he yelled. ‘You speak English?’

  The boys jumped back in alarm.

  ‘Christ! Am I glad to see you!’ He raised himself on one arm.

  The boys regarded him suspiciously.

  ‘Plane,’ Al said slowly, ‘the sky,’ he pointed to the sky, ‘crashed.’

  The boys exchanged glances.

  ‘Other people,’ Al enunciated carefully, ‘back there.’ He gestured behind him, and observed that they were travelling through the interior of the forest.

  The boys jabbered excitedly together. They obviously did not understand a word he was saying. Finally one boy stepped forward and made a short speech – pointing and gesticulating ahead. Then he indicated that Al should lie down on the stretcher once more, and mimed a man much taller than himself.

  Al understood it to mean that they were taking him to a person who would understand him. He complied with their wishes and lay back.

  Effortlessly the boys picked up the stretcher and resumed their journey through the steamy forest. They moved quickly, weaving through the thick undergrowth at a fast pace.

  Within minutes they were approaching a large clearing, where once more the boys placed the stretcher on the ground.

  Al sat up, and realized that he was an expected guest. Almost an entire village of Indians had emerged from their huts to stare at him. Women, children, men – young and old. They pointed and stared and jabbered away in their incomprehensible tongue.

  The women were entirely naked, the males were covered by loincloths. The huts they had emerged from were similar to the one Al had left the others at. Crude dwellings consisting of four supports and a thatched roof.

  The boys, seemingly having done their part, stepped back and blended in with the onlookers. A few children ventured nearer for a closer look. Their eyes were as bright as buttons, and even they were covered in intricately painted designs.