Jungle Of Steel And Stone

by George C. Chesbro

  Veil and Reyna huddled together as one of the policemen tested the gate. There was the grating squeal of metal—but the lock stayed in place. The policemen moved on.

  Veil and Reyna moved back and sat down on the dirt floor of the moldering crypt. Despite the fact that they were touching, they could not see each other. Except for the bar of moonlight at the opening, the heavy, dank darkness was total. Things scuttled around them on the floor. They sat without speaking, listening to Toby's rattling, hoarse breathing as they waited for the dawn.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Veil rested on his haunches, back braced against the rough, clammy stone of the crypt, staring out through the narrow gap at the entrance. He felt Reyna come up behind him, grunted with pleasure when she put her hands on his shoulders and began to knead the thick, stiff muscles around his neck and collarbone.

  "How's Toby?" Veil asked quietly.

  Reyna sighed as she rested her head on Veil's back. "He's conscious, but he's burning up with fever. The wound on his head looks terrible. It's very swollen, and there's a lot of pus."

  Veil straightened up and went to the rear of the mausoleum where, two hours earlier, they had built a small fire to see by and to ease Toby's racking chills. Cracks in the stone provided some ventilation, and Reyna had carefully selected the wood to be burned, but there was still enough smoke to make Veil's eyes tear. Toby did not seem to mind. The warrior-prince sat propped up against the fungus-covered burial vault. His one good eye glowed like a cat's in the firelight as he stared back at Veil. Veil smiled, but Toby's face remained impassive.

  "I'm looking at one tough man," Veil said thoughtfully. "I can't believe he got this far, much less had the will, strength, and guts to attack those two men. Please tell him for me that he is the finest warrior I have ever met, and I honor him."

  Reyna translated Veil's remarks, but Toby remained silent. He took a large pinch of the heroin that had dribbled from the base of the Nal-toon, sniffed it. His eyelids fluttered.

  "From the way he's been snorting that stuff," Veil continued, "I'd say he's on his way to becoming a fullblown addict."

  "It's all right," Reyna replied in a firm voice. "It's a miracle that a substance which destroys countless lives helped to save Toby's. It kept him going. God provided it for him. When the time comes that Toby no longer needs it, God will take away the craving." She paused, bowed her head. "Damn, I could hang myself for losing that radio. Now we don't know what's happening or who could be out in the cemetery looking for us. Toby needs medicine and bandages, and we all need food and water."

  "We can't move yet, Reyna. You'd better believe that the bad guys are still out there someplace." As well as Carl Nagle, Veil thought, but he didn't say so. "What were you two talking about before?"

  Reyna shrugged her frail shoulders. "Nothing important. I was just trying to ease Toby's pain with talk—and reassure him. If and when we do get some medicine for Toby, I'm afraid that it may be a job to get him to take it. He thinks the heroin is the only medicine he needs."

  "Well, that's understandable. It's all he's had to hold him up so far."

  "Also, he still isn't sure he trusts us." She paused, smiled thinly. "When I picked him up at the airport, I told him we were in New York City. All this while he's been thinking that we're all one tribe called 'Newyorkcities.' Betrayal of the tribe is not something a K'ung can easily understand. Good grief."

  Veil studied Toby, the filthy, festering wound on the bushman's face, and made a decision. "I know something about thirst," he said in a flat voice, "and this man is suffering. I'm going out to get some things. We can't wait until night. Without water, Toby may not last through the day."

  "No!" Reyna cried as she grabbed at Veil's sleeve. Toby started at Reyna's sharp tone, but Reyna turned and spoke reassuringly to him. Toby eased himself back against the vault, and Reyna again spoke to Veil. "You can't go. What if something happens to you?"

  "Nothing's going to happen to me."

  Reyna emphatically shook her head. "Although I sometimes wonder, you are not Superman. You could be killed, or arrested by the police. Without you Toby is lost. I can't carry him, and I don't know what plans you've made. It won't make any difference if I'm caught. Besides, I move as well as you do—and there's a good deal less of me to spot."

  "No," Veil said curtly. "I don't want to frighten you, but I also shouldn't have to remind you that Carl Nagle could be out there somewhere."

  Reyna paled at the mention of the man's name, but her mouth remained set in a determined line. She raised her chin slightly. "Toby does need water to make it through the day, Veil. I'm going to get it, and you can't stop me." She turned to speak to Toby, but the bushman had lapsed into unconsciousness.

  "Here," Veil said resignedly, handing Reyna a slip of paper. "If you can get to a phone, call this number. Either Victor Raskolnikov or a man named Walrus will be at the other end. It's a secure line, so you can talk freely. Both men know who you are. Let them know what's happening."

  Reyna nodded as she put the paper into a pocket in her jeans. She kissed Veil quickly, then slipped out into the day.

  * * *

  Reyna had been gone almost an hour and a half. Veil was debating whether or not to go look for her when she suddenly appeared at the entrance. She was carrying two large bags of groceries.

  "Hey, am I glad to see you!" Veil said as he took Reyna in his arms.

  "Take it easy, Veil!" Reyna replied with a grin, her eyes gleaming. Relief at returning safely had made her euphoric. "You're squashing the sandwiches!"

  "Anybody see you?"

  "Are you kidding? Spot the chief tracker? No way." Reyna's smile slowly faded. "There are still men out there, though, and they're not cops."

  "Were you able to talk to Victor or Walrus?"

  "Walrus." Reyna paused, smiled. "He's a funny man."

  "Mmm. His friends think so."

  "I told him that we had Toby and that we were going to lie low for a while here."

  "Is everything ready in Flushing?"

  "Yes. He said to tell you that everything's in place and he's ready to go when you are. He gave me another number, and we're to call him as soon as we get out of here."

  "Good." Veil took the bags from Reyna, set them on the floor, then took Reyna in his arms again and kissed her hard.

  "I'm afraid I spent all the money you gave me, Veil," Reyna said when he had released her. "Do we have anything left?"

  "Just change for phone calls," Veil replied as he began to empty the bags Reyna had brought. He set antiseptic, bandages, and bottled water off to one side. "But money's the least of our worries right now. Damn, you're lucky you didn't break your back carrying all this stuff. You are one hell of a lot stronger than you look."

  "You and Toby give me strength, Veil," Reyna said seriously.

  "No. The strength is all yours."

  "Oh! You'll find a New York Times and Daily News at the bottom of one of those bags. Just in case you want to keep track of our press notices."

  "Outstanding," Veil said as he took the newspapers from the bag and began scanning the leads.

  Reyna went to Toby, spoke to him softly and at length before opening a bottle of water and giving it to him. He drank it without hurrying and gave no indication that he wanted more. She gave him three pears, which he wolfed down while Reyna used water from a second bottle to begin washing his face wound.

  Veil finished with the papers, then went to help Reyna medicate and bandage Toby's wound. The K'ung warrior sat stoically, sucking on an orange, as the man and woman worked on him. The only sign of his discomfort was an occasional flickering of an eyelid. He finally agreed to swallow four aspirin, after what seemed to Veil a long and torturous debate. But he also sniffed a large amount of heroin.

  "There were three other reported sightings of Toby last night," Veil said as he gently rubbed antiseptic salve over Toby's eye and the side of his face. "All in different sections of Queens. The police must be getting tired of
it, which could explain why they aren't roaming all over the cemetery right now."

  "But the police must know he's here," Reyna insisted. "What about the bodies of the men who were killed?"

  "The police claim it was gang warfare."

  "In a cemetery, in the middle of the night? Do you think they really believe it?"

  "No," Veil replied after a pause. "The arrow through the one man's throat is a giveaway, but it's not even mentioned in the stories. The police may not want to create a panic in the neighborhood, or they don't want a mob tearing up the cemetery, which is exactly what would happen if the police told all they knew or suspected. You're right—they have to know we're here. They'll be waiting and watching." "How did the men who attacked us last night know where to look for us?"

  "Nagle. They were his men—probably street thugs too low on the totem pole to know he's a marked man."

  Reyna's hands began to tremble as she finished bandaging Toby's head. "Besides us, he's the only one who knew for certain that Toby was in the building. He looked at a map and made the right guesses. He knows, doesn't he?"

  "I think so."

  "You know so," Reyna said in a hollow voice. "We're trapped."

  "We'll see," Veil said evenly. "Nobody—cops or crooks— can be certain that we didn't get out of here last night. In any case, it would take an army to guard the entire perimeter of this cemetery. There'll be cracks, and we'll get through. Let's not waste mental energy worrying about anything until we see what it is we have to worry about. Is the car where we left it?"

  "Yes, but it looks to me like somebody's watching it."

  "Shit," Veil said without emotion. "It figures, though. Nagel saw it. It means we're going to need other transportation."

  "Lord, Veil, won't anything go right for us?"

  Veil raised his eyebrows slightly. "Toby's still alive, isn't he? And we're all together. Doesn't Wesley Missionary College teach you people about mustard seeds?"

  "Touche," Reyna answered with a wry grin. "You're right, of course. Can Walrus or Mr. Raskolnikov pick us up somewhere?"

  "Using Victor is a possibility; Walrus has to stay where he is. The problem is that I'd also like to keep Victor where he is, right up to the point where I'm certain I don't need him by a telephone any longer." He paused, absently began to peel an orange. "Let me think about it."

  * * *

  "I need the heroin in the Nal-toon."

  Reyna, who had been sitting next to Toby and cradling the K'ung in her arms, glanced up at the spot where Veil had been standing in silence for more than an hour while night fell. She could not see him. "Why, Veil?"

  "Talk to Toby."

  "I don't think he'll give it to you, Veil," Reyna said guardedly.

  "He has to, Reyna. It's our ticket out of here, if there is one. I can't use Walrus, Victor, or John—the doctor. I need them where they are."

  "But how—"

  "Talk to him, Reyna. Tell him he has to give it to me if he wants to get home."

  Reyna sighed, then hugged Toby even closer to her. "Toby?" Reyna said in K'ung. "We have to talk about something important."

  Toby answered with a grunt.

  "We need the Nal-toon's blood-shilluk."

  Toby abruptly drew away from Reyna, then hugged the Nal-toon close to his body. "I don't understand," he said thickly. "The blood of the Nal-toon is mine; it is a gift to me from God. It is very powerful medicine."

  "The Nal-toon provided you with blood when you needed it for pain," Reyna said after a long, thoughtful pause. "Now it is needed to help us escape the warriors who are hunting us. It is needed because the Nal-toon wishes to return with you to your people. For that to happen, we need the blood."

  "Why?"

  "Veil will tell us. He has a plan. He is our chief, and we must do as he says."

  "No!" Toby cried, wrapping both arms around the Nal-toon. "My father is chief, not this man!"

  Suddenly, close by, church bells began to peal; their sound, clanging and insistent, vibrated in the air.

  Reyna could think of no reason why church bells would be rung after sundown. "They toll for thee," she whispered in K'ung.

  "What?"

  "Nothing, Toby."

  "The voice of the Nal-toon speaks differently here."

  Reyna felt a chill run through her, and she sat up straighter. "Yes," she said carefully. "What you say is true—the Nal-toon does speak differently here." She paused, took a deep breath. "Tonight, Toby, the Nal-toon's voice is for you alone. It means that you must decide what your god is saying. I tell you that I will never betray you. I tell you that I will die before I will allow you to be captured and the Nal-toon taken away. I also speak for Veil. You must trust Veil, as you must trust me. We want to take you home. Veil has said that he needs the blood-shilluk in order to accomplish this, but it is you who must listen to your heart, and the voice of the Nal-toon, and decide whether or not he is telling the truth and can be trusted."

  Toby sat very still for a long time, staring vacantly at a point somewhere above Reyna's head. Finally Toby held the Nal-toon out to the woman. His hands were steady. Reyna bowed her head to Toby, then reverently handed the Nal-toon to Veil, who had stepped into the small circle of light cast by the fire's burning embers.

  Veil set the idol down, knelt, bowed to the idol and then to Toby. "Tell him I have to crack open the bottom," he said quietly. "Only the bottom. I won't damage anything else."

  "He's given up his god to you, Veil. It means you can do with it what you want."

  "I want his permission."

  "Toby," Reyna said in K'ung, "Veil and the Nal-toon wish to honor you by asking for your personal permission to open the base so as to remove all of the blood-shilluk. It must be done."

  Toby nodded slightly in Veil's direction. "The Nal-toon has spoken to my heart and told me to trust this man."

  "It's all right, Veil."

  Veil sat down next to Toby on the floor of the crypt. He braced the Nal-toon across his knees with his left hand, then placed the fingers of his right against the false plywood bottom and began to apply steady pressure. The cracked wood squeaked. Veil stopped and glanced at Toby, but the bushman was staring straight ahead, his face impassive. Veil applied sudden, intense pressure, and the plywood cracked apart. Toby shuddered slightly, but otherwise did not react.

  Veil quickly pulled the jagged pieces of plywood from around the base, then reached inside the hollowed-out idol. He pulled out three plastic bags, each one slightly larger than his fist. Two of the bags were intact, but the heroin in the third was trickling from a small gash in the plastic, caused by a plywood splinter. Veil pinched the bag closed, then set it down on the floor next to the others. "There it is," he said quietly. "That's what all the shooting is about."

  Reyna whistled softly. "Pure white heroin. There must be enough junk there to supply all the city's addicts for a year."

  "Does it bother you, Reyna?"

  "No," Reyna answered evenly. "There's no craving. All that happened to me . . . it's like it happened to another person, in another lifetime."

  Veil took out his handkerchief and poured some of the heroin from the broken bag into it. "You'd better save this for Toby," he said, holding the handkerchief out to Reyna. "He'll need it."

  Reyna studied Toby's face for a few moments, finally shook her head. "No," she said. "He won't need it."

  "He's in a lot of pain, Reyna, and we may have to move fast. He's an addict now, and he'll start suffering from withdrawal symptoms if he doesn't get it. This doesn't seem like the time to expect him to kick the habit cold turkey."

  Reyna turned to Toby, spoke in K'ung. "Veil has said that you are a great warrior—but he does not yet fully understand how great. He thinks that you still need the Nal-toon's blood-shilluk, but I know you do not. You are with us now, and you no longer have need of the blood-shilluk. Your pain and sickness will still be great, but now the Nal-toon asks you to bear the pain without the great gift. Can you do this?"
/>   "Why do you insult me?" Toby replied, looking away.

  "He'll do without the heroin, Veil."

  "Reyna—"

  "He'll do without it," Reyna repeated in a firm voice. "He has to get off it sometime, so he may as well start now. Besides, I assume you don't want him spaced-out."

  "I don't want him in pain," Veil said, folding the handkerchief and placing it next to the plastic bags.

  "He'll be all right, Veil. What happens now?"

  "First I want to say something," Veil said, reaching out and squeezing Reyna's hand. "You put up a good front, but I know what it cost you to go out there alone. Carl Nagle's out there someplace waiting for us—and you know it. I just want to say that I think you're one hell of a woman."

  Reyna smiled. "Why, thank you, sir."

  "I have to leave for a little while. I will be careful. I'll be back, and I'll try not to take too long."

  "All right," Reyna answered in a small voice.

  "Just in case, you have the telephone numbers for—"

  "I don't want to know about any 'just in case,' Veil. You make sure you come back."

  Veil picked up the broken plastic bag and put it in his jacket pocket. "See you later," he said, and slipped out into the night.

  Chapter Seventeen

  "Hey, you."

  Veil watched as the man started, then quickly turned and nervously peered into the darkness.

  "That's right, you!"

  This time the man drew a gun from a shoulder holster and pointed it over the stone wall separating the sidewalk from the cemetery. "Who's there?!"

  "Just stand still and listen," Veil said softly. "Do what I say, and you could end up with more money than you'll know how to spend."

  The man grunted angrily, put one hand on top of the stone wall, and vaulted over it into the darkness beyond. He landed on an incline and cursed as he fell. However, he was a lithe, agile man and was almost immediately up on his feet, running toward the spot from where he thought the voice had come. There was no one there. He searched the surrounding area as best he could in the moonlight but still found no one. He listened, gun held ready, but could hear only the sound of his own, slightly nasal breathing.