The Ripple Effect

by Alex Standish

  Carson laughed at the feigned insult. "Bite me." His eyes caught Jack's and he felt his face heating up at the challenging look the other man threw at him.

  Roger held up a solemn hand. "No, thanks. I'll leave that up to Jack."

  The others all laughed as Carson's flush intensified, while Jack opened his mouth, only to snap it shut again. "Roger," he growled. "One of these days..."

  "Aw, come on, ol' dog, you know you love me." Roger grinned. "What do you say we get back to town? I'm starving and I think everyone could do with a week's worth of rest."

  "Amen to that, brother," Jarod said, already climbing into one of the jeeps. He sat down with a huge sigh. "I'm too tired for this shit."

  Vivian sat beside him. "Don't you mean you're too old for this shit?"

  Jarod's deep laughter echoed all around them. "No, I'm just too tired."

  Jack shook his head. "Nuts. I'm surrounded by nuts," he said, sitting behind the wheel.

  "Talking about nuts," Roger said with a shit-eating grin. "I'm sure Carson would love to see yo--"

  "Roger!"

  # # #

  They arrived in Jawara City in the afternoon and Carson experienced a sense of déjà vu as he was yet again driven to his hotel and escorted to the main entrance. Seeing Jack's team ready to start saying their goodbyes, he held up a hand.

  "Ah, ah. No need for that. I'll see you all tomorrow at the Jungle Tavern."

  "You will?" Jack sounded surprised.

  Carson stuffed his hands in his jeans pockets, feeling somewhat awkward. "Yeah. I'll be staying in Jawara for a while. I'm not about to let Geils ruin my vacation," he said. And of course, he still needed to get enough money to leave, not that he was going to say that aloud.

  "You could work for me while you're here," Jack suggested, sounding a little tentative. "Earn a little extra cash on the side."

  Carson gave him an incredulous look. "Doing what?"

  "Geils is still out there and we still need to find the shipment he stole," Roger said. "We've got informants throughout town, some in nearby villages. We'll need to split up to cover all ground. Even with you helping out, it'll take days to talk to everyone."

  Carson thought about it for a moment. It was a tempting offer. Not only would he still be around Jack and the others, but he could get some funds without having to resort to gambling. On the other hand, they probably needed every cent they owned to help the tribes, and could ill-afford to be giving him a salary.

  "I'll help you contact your informants in town," he finally said. "But I won't get paid for it."

  "Why not?" Brendan asked.

  Carson shrugged faintly. "It wouldn't feel right. Besides, I have other ways of getting my hands on some cash if I need it." He gestured towards the hotel with a grin. "I'm a decent poker player. Last night at the casino's backroom, I won enough to pay for my room and to live off my earnings for the rest of my stay. I can do it again, if I have to. So, I'll work with you for free. Agreed?"

  Jack sealed the deal with a firm handshake. "I think I'm the one getting the better deal here, but I won't argue with you. Agreed. Meet us in the morning at the Jungle Tavern. I promise I'll be there this time," he added with a smile.

  Carson chuckled. "Right. I'll see you tomorrow."

  He waved goodbye and walked into the hotel, resisting the urge to turn back around and leave with the others instead. Jack MacKenzie and his group were becoming a surprisingly addictive force.

  Ignoring the startled looks he received from other guests and the hotel staff at his less than stellar appearance, he fetched his key from the reception desk and got into the elevator. Barely awake now, he stumbled into his room, locked the door behind him and collapsed on the bed. He was asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow.

  # # #

  Chapter Six

  Twelve hours of near comatose sleep, a long, healing shower, and a hearty breakfast went a long way to make Carson feel like a new person. His body still ached from his fight with Collins and all the running around from the day before, but he was also pleasantly relaxed and mellow as he drove to the Jungle Tavern.

  He walked into the bar, eyes immediately finding Jack. Jack saw him too, and got up from his seat, leaving his team crowding together at a table in the back. He motioned Carson to an empty table, and they sat together.

  "What's up?" Carson asked as he slumped into his chair.

  "I wanted to talk to you without the others listening in." Jack studied Carson for a moment, the look in his eyes sending a trail of fire along Carson's nerves. "You look better."

  Carson gave him a lopsided smile. "So do you." That was an understatement; Jack looked good enough to eat, black jeans and t-shirt contrasting wonderfully with his tanned skin and blond hair. Carson accepted a cup of coffee from Kit with a brief thanks, before turning his attention back to Jack. "So, what did you want to talk about?"

  Jack cleared his throat awkwardly. "Can I ask you something? It's sort of personal."

  Clark spread his hands in an inviting gesture. "Ask away."

  "I just wondered... Well, I'm guessing Fraser had some pressing reason for leaving, but why didn't you go back with him? There's just something about this whole thing that seems strange. The timing is just too weird. One moment you're both here on vacation, then suddenly you're being captured by Geils and Bruce is flying to the States."

  Carson sighed, staring down at his coffee. "I never did tell you exactly how I ran into Geils, did I? When Bruce and I were returning from Njau, we got into a fight over where to go next, and the asshole ended up leaving me in the jungle without any way to get back to town. That's when Geils' men showed up. When Benzin went to ask Bruce for the ransom, he found out that Bruce had checked-out of the hotel and gone back to the States. He didn't have any pressing reason for leaving, he was just pissed off at me and acting like a jerk."

  "Son of a bitch," Jack muttered angrily. "There's more," he guessed.

  "Yes. I haven't been entirely truthful, Jack. Bruce and I were more than friends, we were lovers. He paid for our tickets, and since we hadn't decided on how long we were staying in Jawara, he was paying for the hotel room on a weekly basis. We don't usually do this, as I like to pay my way, but this vacation was out of my league. It seemed like our last chance to make things right between us, though, so I took it."

  "Make things right?" Jack repeated.

  "Bruce and I don't exactly blend well, we're like fire and water. I'm not saying I'm an easy person to get along with, but Bruce... Some of the stuff he did drove me up the wall."

  "Like leaving you out to dry in the jungle?" Jack snapped, sounding pissed off on Carson's behalf.

  Carson gave him a grateful smile. "For instance. When I go back, we're definitely over. That relationship shouldn't have begun in the first place. Bruce paying for everything bothered me, and so does what happened that day in the jungle. I don't get it, but he didn't seem this bad when we got together."

  Carson started as Jack laid a hand gently over his, which was resting on the table. "Carson," Jack began softly. "If Bruce was footing the bill for this vacation, then you must need money. Why don't you let me pay you? You're not doing us any favors, we do need the help."

  Carson looked into Jack's hazel eyes, seeing genuine concern there. "I... You need that money, Jack. Doing humanitarian work in a country as poor as this, you guys must be desperate for funds. I'm not about to make it worse. I have enough right now." He finished his coffee and licked his lips, doing it again when Jack's eyes flickered to his mouth. "I can always ask Kit for a job. Maybe I can work here as a waiter," he joked, voice a little hoarse.

  Jack grinned, and Carson could swear there was an hint of a leer in his smile. "Why? You feel like being fondled by drunken customers?"

  "Depends on the customer," he retorted, delighted when Jack laughed aloud.

  "Well, Kit already has a kid helping out on the busiest days, so you're out of luck."

  "Kid?" Carson echoed.

&nbs
p; "Zere, he's sixteen. Another runaway. He refused to go back home. Kit needed someone to help serve tables, so she offered him a job. And before you ask, she doesn't let him drink any alcohol." Then was a pause, then suddenly Jack asked, "Do you love him? Fraser?"

  Carson blinked, briefly thrown by the non sequitur. "No. I used to think I did. I cared for him, certainly. I was also attracted to him; lust always played a big part in our relationship. But looking back now, no, I don't think so. Or if I did, I don't anymore." He decided it was time to change the subject. "So, what's on the agenda for today, boss?"

  "You and I are going to go hunt down some of our informants. I haven't given up hope of getting those medical supplies back. Whoever has it now hasn't made a move yet, or we would've heard about it. We put out some feelers, letting it be known there are some buyers interested in the shipment, cost not an issue. We've had no takers, so far." He glanced at his watch, then back at Carson. "It's time to get moving, it's going to be a long day."

  Jack rose from the table, and gestured for his companions to join him and Carson. They all left the bar together, but were soon heading in different directions. They all had a task to carry out.

  # # #

  Carson slumped against the Wrangler's passenger seat, certain he was about to melt into the upholstery. Eight in the morning and it was already so hot that it was getting hard to breathe. He wiped the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand, blinking drowsily as they drove through the jungle, the heat making everything a blur. He could feel the sweat run down his shoulder blades, soaking the t-shirt at the small of his back, and he squirmed with a grimace. This had to be the hottest day since he had arrived in Jawara.

  He looked over at Jack, drinking in every detail of the man. Jack was once again wearing black, and looking remarkably comfortable considering the scorching heat. Carson's eyes traveled the length of Jack's body, licking his lips at the sight of lean thighs flexing under tight denim, of a t-shirt clinging dankly to a hard, muscled chest. He shifted his gaze to Jack's face, fighting the impulse to brush damp locks of blond hair off Jack's forehead. A drop of sweat rolled down Jack's temple, and Carson watched as it slid tantalizing down Jack's throat, wishing he could lick it off.

  "Enjoying the view?"

  Their eyes met and Carson felt a slow smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Oh, yeah," he breathed. "Nice jungle."

  Jack chuckled and Carson joined him, glad to have something to laugh about. The last week had been absolutely daunting. They had searched relentlessly for the stolen medicine, chasing after informants, tracking down black marketeers, and still they had no leads. Whoever had Jack's shipment remained in the shadows.

  Wanting to do something, Jack had used the money from Collins' and Bloom's rewards to buy the supplies they so desperately needed. The next step was to begin vaccinating the tribes, starting with the ones closer to town and going from there. There was no question that Carson was going with Jack; they had spent most of the last week working together.

  Carson had been surprised to realize just what was required of him today; since Brendan was the only medical professional in the team, and couldn't be everywhere at once, all of them would have to play doctor and vaccinate and medicate the population themselves. He had gotten a swift crash course on what to do, how to do it, and what quantity each person should be allowed to take, and then they had departed.

  When Jack spoke to him this time, his voice was grim. "According to the elder who contacted Vivian, this tribe hasn't been hit bad, only two cases of the virus so far. We need to vaccinate them and treat the sick before it spreads. Brace yourself for what you're about to see, Carson. This is one of the poorest settlements in the area. You might've seen something similar on TV, but the real deal is a lot more intense."

  Somewhat puzzled by what Jack meant, Carson nodded. Once the jeep had stopped he jumped out of his seat, relieved to be able to stretch, and looked around. His breath hitched in his throat at the sight before him. The village couldn't have more than twenty huts altogether. They looked like they were made of dry sticks, not hard wood, and only a piece of cloth served as a door.

  A few chickens were walking about, amongst the humans, like they hadn't a care in the world, and he spotted a dog or two. But it was the people and the way they looked that shocked him. Men, women and children alike were thin to the point of death, the children in particular. In most of the kids you could see their ribs clearly, while others had blown-up bellies, a clear sign of malnourishment. Some of the women were curved with age, almost hunchbacked, and the older men walked slowly, as if each step took an enormous effort.

  It had rained during the night, so the ground was muddy and small puddles were visible all around. A stream floated nearby, its water brownish and obviously not fit to drink, but still women and children were filling pots and pans made of orange clay, and taking them to their homes. A few yards away a small group of women were washing their cooking utensils and clothing, and men were watering their livestock.

  "My God," he whispered softly.

  "It's painful to look at, isn't it?" Jack asked quietly by his side, a comforting hand resting on Carson's shoulder.

  "Makes me want to turn around and run," Carson confessed with a grimace. "The tribes I saw the day we rescued you from that warrior tribe... I could see they didn't have much, but it didn't look this bad. How do you..." he trailed off, lost for words.

  "Stand it? Get used to it? We don't. It hurts every time. Gets worse sometimes when you realize you can never do enough, not until the government starts to care for its own people. One in three of these people are malnourished. They use the stream for bathing, washing and the children even pee in it, increasing the risk of sickness and disease. One year they have floods, the next droughts. There's no sanitation, no medical care, and not enough food as their crops rarely survive the unstable climate. It's... a nightmare. Roger and I, we were supposed to stay for just a few months, to make sure the others got settled in. But we just couldn't leave, not after seeing these people. But we do make a difference, Carson, even if it's a small one." He smiled gently at Carson. "One day at a time."

  Carson found himself smiling back at the other man. "One day at a time," he echoed. "How about we start this one?"

  "I'm with you, Carson."

  Carson followed Jack, watching him talk to the tribesmen, and realized he was falling in love with him. Despite his decision not to get involved, Jack had snuck under his defenses. Carson had looked beyond the lethal mercenary facade that Jack projected at times, and seen the caring, loyal, fiercely protective man behind.

  Carson shook his head ruefully, suddenly torn between annoyance and amusement. It was just like him, to travel miles away from home to try to mend his relationship with Bruce, only to end up alone, and hit by love at first sight. Paul would bust a gut laughing.

  Looking at the villagers now, his smile faded. He saw the fear in their eyes as they were faced with an epidemic, and he felt ashamed. He thought back to his sheltered life, to the food and water he had wasted every day without a thought to those in need, to the money he had spent so frivolously. He thought back to his blithe vacation with Fraser, to the way they had thrown cash around while people were starving an easy ride away. Nothing would ever be the same again.

  "Carson?"

  Carson blinked the stinging in his eyes away, finding Jack in front of him, face drawn in concern. "Yeah. I'm okay. Just..." He shrugged, unable to find the words to express what he was feeling at that moment. To realize just how shallow his life had been...

  Jack squeezed his arm. "Come on. The elders will let us use one of the huts to vaccinate the people. I want you to start that, while I teach the relatives of the two sick men how to administer the antibiotics."

  Carson froze in his tracks. "Me? Jack, I know that Brendan showed me what to do, but... I mean, I don't understand a word they're saying, and I've never done this before."

  "You don't have to say anything, they know why
we're here. Just smile and talk in a low tone of voice, calm and soothingly. They won't know what you're saying, but they'll react to the tone, especially the kids. And you'll do fine."

  Carson fidgeted slightly, feeling like the scum of the earth, but needing to ask, "Hm, Jack... We won't... catch it, right? The virus?"

  Jack framed Carson's face between his palms, looking him straight in the eye. "We won't catch it. Trust me."

  Carson winced at his cowardice. "I'm sor--"

  Jack didn't let him finish. "Don't," he said with an understanding smile. "You wouldn't be human if you didn't worry."

  Carson nodded determinedly. "All right, then. Let's do this."

  It was easier said than done. Jack showed him to the hut, and Carson walked inside to find a young boy of about ten already there. The child was sitting on a table, legs swinging back and forth, regarding Carson with wide, curious eyes. Carson gave him a feeble smile, dropping his backpack on the ground.

  "Hi, I'm Carson," he said, following Jack's advice and speaking in a hushed, gentle tone. He retrieved a syringe, a vial with the vaccine, alcohol and a package of cotton from the backpack. "It looks like you'll be my first victim," he quipped.

  Sweaty hands not entirely due to the heat made it difficult to open the syringe's blister pack. When the vial slipped from his fingers and nearly fell for the third time in a row, and the boy began to giggle, Carson couldn't help but laugh too.

  "I'm glad you're enjoying yourself," he said with a grin.

  He crossed his eyes and stuck out his tongue and the kid mimicked him, both of them laughing. Surprisingly, the child's innocent joy was enough to help him relax. He rubbed a little alcohol on the boy's arm, then administered the vaccine, careful not to cause any pain.

  Carson was disposing of the syringe when he felt the kid tug at his t-shirt. The boy grinned, patting his chest. "Dawit. Dawit," he said.

  "Is that your name? Dawit?" Carson touched his own chest and replied, "Carson."

  Apparently satisfied, Dawit gave him a wide smile and ran out of the hut, chattering excitedly with the other children who were waiting outside.