by J C Ryan
On the other hand, Barry didn’t take care of himself. He relied on Flo to do it. To Rex, that was a bit of a strange concept. He was trained to take care of himself and live with the consequences of his decisions and actions. Admittedly, he and Digger had fostered some interdependence, so maybe the relationship between Flo and Barry was similar to him making Digger eat healthy food. A little smile played on his face when that thought crossed his mind.
“Penny for your thoughts.”
Rex was startled to find Flo at his side. He’d been woolgathering as they walked from the hotel to a restaurant, the fourth they’d tried in as many days. He took a beat to center himself and glance quickly at Digger, who paced by his side.
“I’m afraid they aren’t worth that much,” he said, putting an easy grin on his face. “Just daydreaming.”
“About the treasures we’ll find?” she prompted.
“About collecting some rare tales from the Quechua people,” he answered. It wasn’t a lie, exactly. He did dream of making important discoveries. If he really did make discoveries, he owed it to the world to make them known, but he was still contemplating how he would publish any findings without breaking his cover.
“What is it you do, Mr. Davis?” Flo asked.
“I’m not going to answer until you agree to call me Ray,” he teased.
“Okay, Ray-of-sunshine, what do you do? Or are you independently wealthy?”
He laughed. “No, nothing like that. I’m a journalist of sorts.”
“What do you mean by ‘of sorts’?” she persisted.
“Mrs. Marks, are you computer literate?”
“Now who’s standing on ceremony? I won’t talk to you again unless you call me Flo,” she giggled. “Yes, as a matter of fact, I am. Why?”
“Then you know about blogs, yes?” Rex was winging it, and he’d have to put some evidence in place soon to support his cover. “I am in the process of assembling material to write a travel blog which might make me a bit of money, hopefully enough to sustain my traveling. In the meantime, I have a small inheritance that I’m using to support myself until it does.”
“Well, good for you! We like entrepreneurs, don’t we, Barry?”
Barry, deep in conversation with Junior, didn’t hear or respond.
Chapter Six
BY THE MORNING of the fifth day, the Markses declared themselves sufficiently rested to go on. Everyone made sure they had a nutritious breakfast without overeating. The climb from here would be steep, and no one needed to be slowed down by an over-full stomach. Flo joked that Barry would be in much better shape after this, maybe even the handsome rake with the slim build that she’d fallen in love with. Barry only shook his head and blushed at that.
Somehow, without Rex and Junior’s knowledge, the couple had gone out and acquired a lot more gear than was necessary. In addition to what the younger men had provided for them, they had several extra sets of clothing, laundry detergent, an outdoor shower contraption, a double blow-up mattress and pump, more bags of food, and a large bag of trinkets – for the natives, they said. They’d hired a taxi to bring it from the hotel to the llama trader’s establishment.
Rex and Junior exchanged incredulous glances. Would it all fit on the llamas’ packs, or would the poor beasts revolt before they set foot on the trail? There was only one way to find out, so the two men set about rearranging the packs to accommodate it all.
Digger sat a few yards away and watched with interest. His own backpack lay on the ground near Rex’s. He watched Rex load bag after bag and secure them with ropes and bungee cords. When there were no more bags by the llamas, Digger went over and grabbed his in his jaws, by the handle. He had to hold his head high to keep it from dragging on the ground, and walking with it was awkward, but he managed to get it over to Rex and set it down. He pawed Rex’s leg to get his attention.
Rex looked down and saw Digger’s pack and started laughing. Every time he managed to stop laughing to take a breath, he was overcome by another bout, until he was bent over, his hands on his knees, gasping for breath. Flo Marks had seen the exchange, figured out what Digger was up to and was laughing, too. When Barry and Junior came over to see what was so funny. Rex had to explain to them, between gasps, that Digger had decided the llamas made better pack animals than him.
That started another round of laughter, while Digger looked from human to human with an expression that said, “What’s the big deal?”
Rex said to Digger, “The llamas are to help carry everything else. Your big bag of chow is on their backs, but you must carry your daily ration.” He picked up the pack and set it on Digger’s back. The dog didn’t balk. If he could, Rex thought, he might have shrugged and said, “It was worth a try.”
The comical interlude had put everyone in a good mood. Though the sun was higher in the sky than Rex would have preferred when he fell in line behind Junior, he was in great spirits. The air was crisp for now, though it would probably be muggy later in the day when the rains came. Digger was by his side, and they were finally on their way to an unplanned adventure. This was the life he’d been wanting ever since he left Afghanistan after the tragedy that had brought him and Digger together.
Junior set a pace that would give them respectable progress for the day, even if they had to stop when the rain started. Rex thought it would be too fast for Barry and maybe for Flo, but he didn’t want to start an argument. If they found it too fast, they’d slow down by themselves and Junior would know to slow down as well. Rex had no doubt Flo would speak up if she needed to.
Junior was a couple hundred yards ahead, leading one of the llamas by its bridle. Rex had hung back to let the Markses go next, so he could keep an eye on them. He was only about ten yards behind them, and he had to keep slowing down as the trail turned steeper. He’d schooled himself to patience – they’d get to the village when they got there. Digger was at heel position as usual, though if they’d been alone Rex would have sent him a few dozen yards ahead. The second llama trailed them on the lead.
To Rex, the benefit of Junior’s pace was that it made conversation difficult and he could do what he had done for many days and miles before he’d met them. He whistled, thought, and closely observed his surroundings, sometimes remarking on them to Digger. He’d discovered great contentment in such circumstances. Now and then, Digger left his side briefly to investigate the abundant wildlife or leave his mark on the area they were passing through. Rex saw no point in picking up after him out in the jungle. Packs of wild dogs roamed in there, after all. Digger’s contributions most likely wouldn’t destroy the environment any more than theirs would.
Though Rex had been on missions in the jungles of south and central America and Africa before, he didn’t think he’d ever seen any as beautiful as the one through which he walked now. Part of his contentment was the fact there weren’t any terrorists bent on killing him. Another part of it was his absolute freedom to do whatever he wished. And part of it, to his continuous astonishment, was the companionship of Digger and his obvious delight in the new sights and smells.
Despite all that, it was second nature for Rex to keep his eyes and ears open for trouble. Even though he didn’t expect it, trouble had a habit of finding him on a regular basis.
He’d spent hours trying to figure out why Digger disliked Junior Roper so much when he himself couldn’t detect any threat from him. If Junior was a real bad guy, Digger would have attacked him. He didn’t. The only logical explanation was the one he thought of before—for some unknown reason, Junior was afraid of Digger, and the dog could sense it. Why he would then torment the guy for it was inexplicable. But after spending so much time with Digger, Rex knew better than to interfere with the dog’s intuition—the reason for it would reveal itself in due time.
He didn’t think the locals were hostile to outside visitors, but they were going deep into the interior where westerners didn’t often venture. Tales of vicious primitive tribes in the Amazon were plentiful, so it wasn�
��t beyond his imagination to believe others could inhabit the high backcountry of the Andes. Their party was following a well-used trail, so there must be some contact between the inhabitants along the trail and the small city of Santa Teresa. Probably his caution was for nothing. That didn’t mean he’d drop it.
After a couple of hours, he and the Markses caught up with Junior, who had stopped to wait for them.
“Anyone hungry? We’ve covered about five miles, and from here the trail gets steeper. I thought we might be able to use a rest and some food before we push through.”
Rex liked the kid’s diplomatic manner and consideration of the older couple. “I could. And Digger’s always up for a snack.”
Flo chuckled and agreed. Barry just sat heavily on a nearby downed tree trunk and sighed. Rex took note of it. They’d all need to keep a close watch on Barry.
Junior had told him it was about thirty miles to the village. They hoped to make ten miles per day, but Junior said they’d better count on half that when they planned the food. Some stretches of the trail were very steep, and they were going to gain over ten thousand feet in altitude. Not to mention the days would be shortened when the rains came, which could be soon. After that, he wasn’t sure how far it was to the ruins. Maybe another two days’ hike.
However, today’s progress was ahead of schedule, largely because the trail had been relatively flat so far. Rex reckoned they were only about two hundred feet higher than they’d been when they started. They’d covered five miles of the thirty, which meant during the twenty-five left they’d be gaining an average of four-hundred feet in altitude per mile. About one-thousand feet in altitude per hour at their current pace. Barry would never be able to keep up with that pace, and Rex doubted Flo could, either. Especially not as the air became thinner and thinner.
Before they started again, Rex had a quiet word with Junior. “I’m sure you understand they can’t keep up the pace you set if we start climbing.”
“No worries, man. We won’t go any faster than they can. That’s why we planned for twice as much time as you or I would need, right?”
Rex nodded. As he walked back to the spot where the llamas and Barry waited, he turned Junior’s remark over in his mind. It wasn’t lost on him that his physique announced to anyone who saw him that he was fitter than average.
Junior’s doesn’t, so how is it that the kid equates what I can do with what he can? Is it just the natural arrogance of youth, or is there more to the kid than meets the eye? Is that what Digger knows about and doesn’t like?
In the absence of other evidence, Rex decided he was being unnaturally distrustful. The kid was probably just a bit competitive by comparing their ages, which were relatively close compared to the gap between either of them and the Markses. He forgot about it as he got to Barry and noticed Flo wasn’t around.
“Where’s Flo?” he asked.
Barry waved nonchalantly away from the path and into the jungle. “Call of nature,” he said.
Rex felt a thrill of alarm. “By herself? How long has she been gone?”
Barry shrugged. “A few minutes. She’ll be okay.”
Rex suppressed his annoyance. Barry was probably right, and he certainly wasn’t going to go crashing through the brush and disturb her. She’d probably take his head off if he caught her in an embarrassing position. Still, he was uneasy. She could get into all sorts of trouble, from run-ins with wildlife to unexpected drop offs disguised by dense foliage. He wouldn’t be happy until he saw or heard her coming back.
Junior had waited a few minutes before rejoining them, at Rex’s suggestion. He’d rather the Markses didn’t become concerned that he and Junior were conspiring behind their backs, and he didn’t want to embarrass them by discussing their fitness in their presence. Now Junior walked up and asked if everyone was ready to go.
Rex told him they were waiting for Flo. There wasn’t much to do, but while they waited, they made sure no scrap of food or other evidence of their stop remained, and still Flo wasn’t back. Barry didn’t seem concerned, but Rex was.
Finally, he had an idea. Digger had learned the names of their companions by now. He liked Flo as much as he disliked Junior. Rex had no doubt he could find either of them on command. Barry, he wasn’t sure about. Digger didn’t seem to have any issues with him, ignoring him most of the time.
“Digger, find Flo,” he commanded and pointed in the direction of the bushes where Barry had pointed before.
Digger looked up and got to his feet. He looked at Rex and then at the jungle in the direction Barry had waved.
Rex nodded and said, “Go on, boy, find Flo.”
Digger opened his mouth in a wide grin and let his tongue hang out as he trotted into the bush. Rex was reassured by Digger’s casual body language. The dog hadn’t detected anything amiss. Most likely he was just fretting about nothing.
A few minutes later a cacophony of barking erupted from somewhere in the direction Digger and Flo had gone. Everyone, even Barry, jumped to their feet.
“What the…” Barry started.
No sooner than he’d said it, the barking stopped. Rex started forward. “You guys stay here.” He ignored Barry’s protest as he moved swiftly into the jungle.
He’d gone only a few yards, looking for evidence of either Flo’s or Digger’s passing through, when both appeared about six feet in front of him. Flo was smiling. Rex unconsciously relaxed.
“What was that all about?” he asked.
“Well, I had a little encounter with some wild dogs,” she said. “Did you know about them? The Peruvian dogs? They’re so funny-looking. No hair except at the very top of their heads, and it’s kind of orange and straggly. Their bodies are almost purple.”
Rex relaxed more at her evident lack of distress. “What do you mean, encounter?”
“Well, if you must know, five or six of them came along while I was, um… They seemed a bit fascinated. Embarrassing, really. But when I was done and tried to pet them, they ran away.”
“You tried to what?” Rex was horrified. She could have lost a hand, or worse.
“Well, they didn’t seem unfriendly. Then your big boy came along and started barking at them, and they barked back, and he ran at them and they scattered.”
She seemed disappointed.
“He was protecting you,” Rex said. She was fine, and he didn’t want to fight with her. She was his favorite of the three humans on the trail with him.
“He’s sweet. But I didn’t need protecting.” She turned and rubbed Digger’s ears with both hands, bending down to look him in the face. “Good boy! Thank you for protecting me.”
Rex told her not to try and pet or approach wild animals again and explained the dangers of it to her.
Initially, she was a bit taken aback by Rex’s admonishment but in the end she took it graciously and gave her word that she wouldn’t do it again.
The silly grin on Digger’s face almost made Rex laugh. So much for sparing his feelings. Flo was a natural with dogs.
They returned to the others, and they fell into line again, walking more slowly now as the trail was growing steeper.
Chapter Seven
THAT AFTERNOON, ABOUT another two hours into the hike, Junior hung back. They’d all noticed heavy clouds darkening the day. It looked like the anticipated rains were about to descend. He suggested Rex and the Markses continue at their previous pace while he went ahead to find a spot to camp for the night. He’d stop at the first spot that looked like it would give them shelter.
Rex thought a spot providing shelter might still be miles away, but he couldn’t think of a better idea. Even if he could find one faster than Junior could, he didn’t know the way, and he doubted Junior’s ability to protect the older couple as well as he and Digger could.
Junior told them he’d leave a trail marker if he had to get off the trail to get to shelter. Rex suggested Junior leave his llama behind unless he knew how they’d react to rain. He agreed and headed up the tr
ail at a jog. Rex gave the llama’s lead to Barry and closed the distance between them, so they were bunched on the trail, three humans, two llamas, and Digger.
Before long, the first fat spatters of raindrops began to fall, and Rex halted the procession to get the ponchos out of their packs. Hopefully the kid had found shelter and was waiting for them high and dry.
Before many minutes had passed, they were slogging through a running stream that had found the trail they were walking to be the path of least resistance. The three humans were huddled under their plastic ponchos, beginning to shiver as the temperature dropped rapidly. Digger had his head down, the picture of misery. His only protection was his canvas back pack.
He didn’t have any idea what the llamas thought about the rain, but they weren’t balking or otherwise misbehaving, for which he was grateful. When the downpour got heavy enough, they couldn’t see more than two feet ahead, he called a halt. Everything he knew about tropical rainstorms suggested this would pass soon. There was no place to hide, and it was dangerous to continue as long as they couldn’t see in front of them. Also, if they missed Junior’s trail marker, he’d be stranded without the supplies. It was best to stop and wait it out.
About ten minutes later, the downpour slowed, and visibility improved. Rex urged the bedraggled group to continue up the trail. It was harder now, as the muddy ground was slippery and caused them to slow down to an almost shuffling pace. That proved to be a blessing in disguise when Flo exclaimed in surprise. Just as she’d caught herself from landing flat on her face in the mud, she’d noticed a small cairn of rocks beside the trail, and an even smaller trail leading off it.
“Would this be Junior?” she asked Rex.
“Yes, I’m sure it is. You stay here, and I’ll check.” Rex told Digger to stay and headed out quickly on the smaller trail. He’d gone just far enough that he couldn’t see the others when Junior hailed him.
