Manus Xingue

by Jack Challis

  ‘Not far – his fresh prints are superimposed on theirs. Manus Xingue only needs to get into arrow range,’ answers Dublin, ‘but he will bide his time. He knows Chevez is handy with a gun.’ The two SAS troopers move on.

  Half a kilometre further up the track, Chevez and Maria struggle on. Chevez is sweating again. Maria stops, and looks up.

  ‘A storm is coming,’ she declares, then something else attracts her attention from behind. ‘Chevez,’ whispers Maria, ‘listen to the animals – we are being followed!’

  ‘It could be the white soldiers,’ mutters Chevez weakly, straining his ears to hear above his raging fever and pounding head.

  ‘No,’ replies Maria, ‘the white soldiers have what they want. I can hear the blue sunbird.’ Her eyes widen. ‘It always warns that big cats are near – Chevez, it is the evil spirit – the man-eater!’ Then, in horror, ‘Chevez, I have only one cartridge left - we must do something!’

  Chevez does not answer. He is on the point of collapse; their survival now depends on Maria!

  Maria helps Chevez off the track a few metres into the jungle, to the base of a tree attacked by a parasitical vine. The vine’s roots form a small alcove into which Maria places Chevez. Quickly cutting a few branches, she expertly disguises their hideout. Then, retracing their steps to the track, she disguises their trail to their hideout. Using Chevez’s stick, Maria carries on down the main track, laying a false trail. Stopping, she makes her way back through the jungle to the now unconscious Chevez in their makeshift hideout.

  A hundred metres back, behind Chevez and Maria, Manus Xingue, now dressed in his full jaguar outfit, stealthily follows the couple’s tracks. He looks just like a big jaguar – walking on its hind legs!

  Manus Xingue, the Cat-man, is nervous. He constantly checks the surroundings with his one eye. He, the powerful, evil Shaman of the feared Cat-people, is now in the land of the Kier Verde – the Invisible People–his tribe’s deadly enemies.

  The blue sunbird, which has mistaken Manus Xingue for a jaguar, is still following and giving its alarm calls. The bird is distracting him and is giving his position away. He stops, glares up at the bird, fits an arrow to his bow and takes aim. The blue sunbird drops transfixed – Manus Xingue swears under his breath and continues to stalk his intended victims.

  Jungle night is beginning to fall; lightning and thunder herald the coming of a torrential tropical storm, common in the rain-forest. Hidden in the roots of the strangler fig, Maria watches the jungle track, her shotgun ready. In the descending gloom ahead, a stealthy movement on the track catches Maria’s attention. Through a small gap in the vine foliage, she catches a glimpse of Manus Xingue! She freezes; her eyes widen in terror – to her superstitious mind, she is watching an evil Shape-shifter!

  Manus Xingue stops and studies the point where Maria and Chevez left the track but Maria’s bush-craft fools him. He moves on following her false trail. He carries on for another hundred metres, then realises his quarry has gone to ground for the night – somewhere behind him!

  It is too dangerous to backtrack, even for the nocturnal Cat–man. Chevez and Maria will have to pass his ambush in the morning; he will be waiting! He prepares an ambush position by the side of the jungle track and settles down to wait. Just like the jaguar, the Shaman of the Cat-people has patience in abundance.

  Five minutes after Maria sees Manus Xingue pass, she sees the armed Dublin and Lacy on the track. She freezes – have the two soldiers broken their word? Maria wonders and watches.

  However, Dublin and Lacy pay no attention to the fact that Chevez and Maria’s tracks are no longer present; they continue tracking Manus Xingue.

  Maria realises this, crosses herself and offers up a silent prayer to the Holy Madonna - her patron saint.

  The two SAS troopers carry on for another hundred metres and then Dublin stops.

  ‘It’s going to be dark soon,’ says the Irishman. ‘Chevez and his wife have pulled off the track, some way back. That means Manus Xingue will do the same now – he is somewhere ahead – he could put an arrow into one of us as we pass. We need to get back to the hut before darkness and the storm. We can pick up the trail again tomorrow morning – if the rain doesn’t wash away all the tracks.

  ‘This is now personal between our venereal friend, Manus Xingue, and us. He mutilated Taffy’s body – killed Jim and double-crossed us. We never forget a double-crosser in 21 SAS.’

  Lacy is more confident with Dublin, now the volatile Irishman is disabled.

  ‘You’d better tell me everything, Frank,’ demands Lacy. ‘I want to know why the dog-tags are so important – why the Yanks are keeping tabs on us.’

  ‘I will tell you all back at the hut. You’re also involved now and in danger,’ informs Dublin. ‘The Yanks are now suspicious of both of us!’

  Back at US Special Forces Base in Columbia, Captain Ely Bodeen is making a report to his superior, Colonel Homer Clay.

  ‘We are having trouble with the location detectors but know the Limeys are somewhere in the vicinity of Chevez’s hut.’

  ‘I don’t give a cottontail-damn about Chevez! I want Lt Peterson’s dog-tags with the co-ordinates of the hidden money.’

  ‘We have a new definite lead,’ replies Major Bodeen. ‘The Indian guide with the Limeys is the same one that was with Peterson when he was killed - it’s that son-of-a-bitch, Manus Xingue. A blown-up photo from the heli-gimble camera showed him up bright and clear. I would bet my southern arse he knows where the money is buried and has in his possession the dog-tags of Lt Peterson!’

  ‘Find him!’ Colonel Homer Clay orders. ‘If there is the slightest possibility that the Limeys have seen the dog-tags in Manus Xingue’s possession – kill them! Another one of our boys has been killed by the mob – he could have talked. Get this done quick.’ Before Major Bodeen can speak, the colonel slams down the phone. ‘Mother….fucker!’ swears the Major.

  Back in Chevez’s hut the two SAS troopers huddle around a small fire, eating their rations. ‘I could do with a drink.’ announces Dublin.

  ‘Seven pints of strong lager and a twenty-five quid knee-trembler – with a big fat slag with massive Bristols and nipples the size of walnuts – will do me,’ responds Lacy.

  ‘What did you do with my bottle?’ Dublin asks.

  ‘I drained it,’ answers Lacy, looking the Irishman straight in the eyes, ‘and I aimed the cocaine in the swamp – you were getting too stroppy!’ he says with a hint of challenge in his tone.

  The volatile Dublin studies the young SAS trooper for a moment. Frank Dublin, the cold, calculating SAS trooper, is aware he has lost the physical advantage to the younger and fitter Lacy. All he has now are tricks – deadly tricks!

  ‘You were going to tell me something, Frank,’ reminds Lacy, rolling a cigarette. The cagey Dublin is reluctant to divulge information; it is not in his nature. He still intends to kill Lacy once he has the dog-tags. Lacy knows too much – he is expendable, so why not tell him, reasons the Irishman – gain his confidence , and get his guard down.

  ‘Ok,’ answers Dublin, ‘in April a group of Southern gentlemen in the CIA and US Special Forces found out a Mafia crime syndicate were paying off a Columbian drug baron – thirty-eight million dollars – for a consignment of cocaine. They intercepted this money using Chevez as a pretext to enter Brazil.

  The only two American Special Force officers who knew how to get the money back out to Dixieland were killed. A Lt Cal Peterson, not one of the southern conspirators, found out about the money. Lt Peterson took a five-man detail – Manus Xingue, we now know, was their guide!

  ‘Lt Peterson needed to find a suitable site to airlift the money back to Washington but something went badly wrong – the money was buried in an unknown location – there was only one survivor – our venereal friend – Manus Xingue! Before Peterson died, he scratched the co-ordinates of the hidden money on his dog-tags.’

  ‘How did you know about all this?’ Lacy asks.

&nb
sp; ‘There’s a lot of paddies in the CIA,’ answers Dublin.

  ‘What about the million for Chevez’s ear?’

  ‘That’s genuine – it was the carrot the Yanks gave Taffy and me, to side-track us. They trusted Jim Kane to personally recover the dog-tags because he follows orders to the letter.’ Dublin replies.

  ‘Fuck this for a lark!’ Lacy responds.

  ‘If they find out we know about the dog-tags, they will kill us for sure,’ warns Dublin. ‘You are in - like it or not!’

  ‘Stone me!’ Lacy exclaims, ‘but you already have the co-ordinates – why do you need Peterson’s dog-tags?’

  ‘Because we at 21SAS need to buy time,’ replies Dublin, ‘to get the money out. The Yanks can do it quickly. I want to delay them by changing just one number of the co-ordinates. That’s why I have to kill Manus Xingue and get to those dog-tags–before the Yanks do.’

  ‘All I want is the third share of the million,’ replies Lacy. ‘Nothing else.’ Dublin agrees, knowing Lacy only has a short while to live!

  ‘Would you ever go back to Wexford if you had money?’ asks Lacy.

  ‘Only in spirit,’ replies the Irishman, Dublin. ‘I would not last a day – now get your head down – we have a busy day ahead.’

  The following morning at first light, the two SAS troopers leave the shelter of Chevez’s hut. They continue along the jungle track, retracing their steps of the pervious evening. Dublin is intent on catching Manus Xingue and killing him for the dog-tags. Lacy, on the other hand, is intent on saving Chevez and Maria from the hands of Manus Xingue.

  One kilometre further up the track, Chevez and Maria emerge from their overnight hide-out. Chevez has now completely recovered from his malarial attack; thanks to the quinine tablets Lacy gave Maria.

  ‘Chevez,’ whispers Maria in a frightened voice, ‘I saw Manus Xingue pass last night, following us – he is now the “jaguar spirit that walks on two legs”. That is why the blue sunbird was warning us, Chevez! Manus Xingue has turned into a jaguar – the man-eater!’

  Chevez smiles gently at his newly converted wife, who still retains the superstitions of her tribe, the Kier Verde.

  ‘Manus Xingue is a man like me, flesh and blood,’ Chevez explains. ‘He can be killed like any man.’

  Maria is not convinced, though newly converted, like most wild Indians she still mixes the old beliefs with the new. Chevez does not push the matter.

  ‘The danger from Manus Xingue will be from ahead,’ says Chevez. ‘See if you can pick up his tracks while I look to left and right.’

  Maria checks the ground. ‘The rain has washed away all the tracks,’ she complains. ‘Chevez,’ continues Maria anxiously, ‘Manus Xingue is the jaguar that attacked you – he is a shape-shifter.’

  ‘Are you sure it was not the man-eater you saw last night?’ Chevez questions.

  ‘The jaguar I saw walked on two legs,’ answers Maria.

  Chevez looks at his wife. ‘Maria, you are a Catholic now. You must forget the superstition of your people.’

  ‘No, Chevez,’ replies Maria, ‘Father Pedro has spoken of good and bad spirits that roam this Earth. Manus Xingue has come here as a jaguar spirit to eat man-meat.’

  ‘Listen,’ answers Chevez urgently, ‘this is the truth – Manus Xingue has come here for you! Mendoza the trader warned me. Mendoza gives Manus Xingue white powder for safe passage through the land of the Cat-people.’

  ‘What does he want me for?’ the frightened Maria asks.

  ‘First, to make you his woman then, on the fourth moon, when the child is born, he will sacrifice you to their blue Sky-God on the sacred rock. This sacred rock is far to the south – I have seen it!’

  ‘Then they will eat me!’ gasps Maria loudly.

  ‘Maria, shhh - we must be quiet,’ warns Chevez. ‘Manus Xingue will be waiting somewhere ahead. We also have the man-eater to watch out for!’ Chevez tests the breeze with a leaf. ‘The wind is now from behind. The danger from the man-eater will be on the left or the right. The danger from the wife-eater will be from behind.’

  Maria smiles; the couple continues forward.

  Two hundred metres ahead, Manus Xingue opens his one eye, takes a line of cocaine and moves towards the jungle track. He carefully prepares his ambush position. Manus Xingue is nervous; he fears the Invisible People and believes his magic is weaker in their land.

  The Cat-man soon finishes his preparations for his ambush position and sinks down. The rosettes on the jaguar’s skin perfectly blend in with the dappled morning sunlight filtering through the jungle canopy and he becomes almost invisible. The ambush is set!

  Fifty metres away, Chevez and Maria carefully move forward. They constantly check left, right and behind. The couple stop and listen out for the sharp staccato call of the blue sunbird to warn them of danger.

  ‘I wish the sunbird would help us,’ Maria whispers.

  ‘Walk in front of me now,’ says Chevez; ‘I can then protect you better.’

  The couple continue forward slowly, scanning every bit of cover near the track.

  Further back on the track, the two SAS men are now only a few hundred metres behind Chevez and Maria. Dublin and Lacy move quickly and silently, communicating by signals. Dublin stops and points out to Lacy where Chevez and Maria rejoined the trail that morning. Lacy smiles, happy that Maria and Chevez have survived the night. Dublin and Lacy quicken their pace.

  A short way up the track, Chevez and Maria are approaching the ambush set up by Manus Xingue! They scan every bush that might hide possible danger.

  Ten metres ahead, Manus Xingue spots Chevez and Maria’s approach. He fits a long, barbed arrow to his bow. Then, crouching down, the Cat-man sinks further into cover – and virtually disappears. This time there is no blue sunbird to give away his position!

  Chevez and Maria pass the ambush unaware of the hidden danger! Manus Xingue allows the couple to pass several yards, then slowly and silently rises. Aiming at the centre of Chevez’s back, the Shaman of the Cat-people slowly pulls his bowstring back. A grin contorts his mutilated face. However, a sixth sense that all jungle dwellers posses makes Manus Xingue turn and look behind him!

  He knows something is wrong – and strains his one eye to see the danger he knows is there – but cannot see! His eye scans the dense foliage behind him – he sees nothing at first – until, as if by magic, the forms of six Kier Verde warriors, no more than three metres behind him, begin to materialise. The Invisible People have arrived!

  The Kier Verde warriors all have green, woven, long-leaf masks, their muscular, naked bodies are blotched with green and yellow dye. They blended in perfectly with the jungle surrounds and sun-filtered shade. The evil Shaman of the Cat-people, Manus Xingue’s eye widens with horror as he makes out a blowpipe pointed straight at him!

  Manus Xingue is in a dilemma, his arrow is pointing in the wrong direction to defend himself; he will have to turn a three-quarter circle before he can fire his arrow at the Kier Verde with the blowpipe. The Kier Verde remain still – the green leaf masks stare expressionlessly back at him.

  Some thirty metres behind this scene, the two SAS troopers round a bend in the track. Frank Dublin immediately spots Manus Xingue ahead, standing at the edge of the track looking back into the jungle.

  ‘Get down - prepare to shoot,’ Dublin signals to the inexperienced Lacy. Both SAS troopers crouch. Lacy, on one knee, takes careful aim while Dublin assesses the situation.

  Manus Xingue knows his dreaded enemies, the Invisible People, will give him no mercy - he will go down fighting! The Shaman of the Cat-people swings around quickly to aim his arrow at the Kier Verde warrior with the blowpipe. However, before he has swung a full half-circle, a dart from the blowpipe embeds in his neck! The effect of the poison works almost immediately. Manus Xingue has just enough time to cry out in pain – and clutch his thick neck. He drops like a stone on the track but not before the taught bowstring slips from his fingers and the long, barbed arrow is released
down the track towards the two SAS troopers!

  The barbed arrow whistles towards them and then past, over their heads. Lacy raises his head. ‘What the fuck was that?’ he exclaims.

  ‘Keep your bloody head down, man.’ Dublin snaps.

  Lacy ducks down but cannot help a moan.

  ‘If I am killed, I would like to know what killed me – just as a matter of interest, like.’

  ‘Shut it,’ hisses Dublin. ‘Something has just pole-axed our venereal friend – he’s gone down like a sack of spuds, before he could aim that arrow,’ observes the Irishman.

  The six Kier Verde warriors remove their leaf masks and step onto the jungle track. Two of the Kier Verde warriors are Rondo and Yuma.

  ‘We should kill Manus Xingue now,’ suggests Rondo drawing a knife.

  ‘Yes,’ agrees Yuma, ‘before his spirit leaves his body and stays in our land to trouble our tribe.’

  ‘Manus Xingue’s brain is not dead,’ answers the Kier Verde Shaman, Kier Poa. ‘He is just sleeping with the dead. Only when his thinking brain is dead can his spirit leave his body – and return to his tribe.’

  ‘Kier Poa, our Shaman, is right,’ announces the oldest of the group. ‘We must take Manus Xingue to the Rio Xingue. The water flows back into the land of the Cat-people. Kill him in the water and his blood and spirit will return to his own land – Manus Xingue’s cat-spirit will then also be at rest.’

  All the Kier Verde agree and throw Manus Xingue’s bow and arrows into the jungle. Kier Poa orders the stricken Manus Xingue to rise – by adopting a strange voice and tongue. Amazingly, the Cat-man obeys in a trance-like state. Only the white of his single eye is visible.

  Manus Xingue is now a zombie; the result of the Kier Verde poison dart – but his brain responds to commands from Kier Poa, a master of the poison art.

  Dublin and Lacy watch from cover. ‘Jesus wept,’ whispers the Irishman, disappointed. ‘Looks like the Kier Verde are taking the ugly bastard away.’