Though the constant drumming had weakened their resolve in that regard.
The day had passed slowly as their captors joined in revel and drink to parade the wretched ape’s head around the village. By the way the populace was worked up about the grisly thing—now for a second day—Seward guessed that the beast had somehow figured into their lives or mythology, and its death was celebrated like the lifting of a curse.
When night fell on the jungle, the full moon’s light splashed suddenly upwards in the dark blue sky, illuminating towering clouds that had built up over the west. The pale light started spilling through the high trees and flooding the village center just as the other castaways were herded in.
Any glimmer of hope in Seward’s heart was banished by the appearance of those he’d been hired to protect: Lilly, Clive and Abigail Quarrie were hauled in unconscious, bedraggled, and seemingly bereft of life.
True, the others were dead on their feet, but they were obviously alive—the Quarries, however...
The masked savages opened the cage door and forced Seward and Jacob away from the entrance with arrows nocked and aimed as the bound Quarries were cast upon the ground and the staggering captives shoved in after.
When the savages cut the rope linking Van Resen to Phillip Holmes and Virginia James and then their bindings, both men fell on their faces, while the governess lurched to Lilly where she lay by the elder Quarries still bound to their carrying poles.
“Jacob, please—Lilly’s sick!” Miss James cried hoarsely, as she toppled to her knees beside her ward.
Seward kept his eyes on Lilly as he pulled Van Resen to his feet.
“Thank you, my friend,” the scientist said in a daze, clasping the big Texan’s hand for support as an eyebrow shot up. He pulled his eyeglasses from his coat pocket and rubbed at the dirty lenses with a tattered shirt sleeve. “I am glad you are well...and ‘surprised’ at your whereabouts...”
The scientist slid the glasses over his nose and limped away from the sick girl toward the bars.
Miss James wailed, and Jacob threw his arms around her.
“It’s Lilly—there’s no heartbeat!” the governess cried. “Oh my girl!”
“What the devil?” Seward growled, stalking toward them.
Mr. Quarrie began struggling at his bindings, and his wife was beginning to call out.
The ranger knelt by Lilly to take a pulse, and pulled his hands away surprised. Her cheeks were pink, her golden hair was shiny and full—she looked healthier than the others.
But he had felt no pulse.
He started tearing at her bindings, but the scientist’s lean hand clasped his shoulder to halt him.
“Might I speak with you first, Captain?” Dr. Van Resen said. “You must not untie her.”
“But Lilly! What’s happened to her?” the ranger sputtered, feeling her cold hands and wrists for any sign of life; but the scientist tugged his arm, and shook his head. Something about the man’s strained expression drew Seward to his feet.
Jacob had already moved over to untie Mr. Quarrie who had called out to him. Miss James pressed her face to Lilly’s.
“Leave her tied...” Van Resen said quietly, marking the ranger’s incredulity, “...to guard against convulsions.”
“Convulsions?” Seward answered, exchanging an uncertain glance with Miss James.
“Captain, we must leave this place immediately.” He gripped the ranger’s elbow to keep his balance, swaying unsteadily as he directed the big man toward the bars near where Phillip Holmes had dragged himself in an exhausted stupor.
“When the drums stop,” the young man warned cryptically. “They’ll come for us.”
Seward ignored Holmes to say, “If you have an escape plan, Doc, I’d like to hear it.”
“We are in terrible danger here,” the scientist said, looking the bars up and down and shaking them to test their strength.
“You’re stating the obvious,” Seward said, frowning. “What’s wrong with Lilly?”
“She is dead.” Tears glimmered in the scientist’s eyes, as he began kicking the straw and filth that littered the cage floor. “Or she might as well be.”
“Dead? But she looks fine...” Seward turned to blink at the girl, disbelieving.
“If we cannot break out, we must find a way to defend ourselves,” the scientist continued, clutching the bars to lower himself slowly so he could pick up a stick that he then threw away after testing its strength.
“What are you doing?” the old ranger growled.
“We need a stout piece of wood with a sharp end.” Van Resen clasped the ranger’s shirt to pull him along the cage bars to the corner that overlooked the grisly kitchen. A big savage in a red mask was in conference with his fellows. He cleaned the top of his butcher block with the edge of his cleaver and pointed at the castaways.
Behind them several masked men were beating a constant rhythm on their drums.
“Sharp end—why?” the ranger shouted hoarsely. His face was hot and eyes red.
“We must drive a stake through Lilly’s heart,” the scientist said, biting down on his lower lip.
“Drive it—have you lost your mind?” Seward rasped, pulling the doctor away from the bars when he saw that masked men gathering near the fire pit had taken an interest in the pair. They held knives and wooden clubs adorned with crude basket hilts.
“I would prefer madness to the truth, sir,” Van Resen said, shaking his head as a tall masked savage passed the cage. He wore an admiral’s tricorn hat made of animal fur and wicker. “Perhaps I’ve already gone...”
“We’re all headed to the asylum and Lord Nelson’s steering the boat.” The ranger swung the scientist around. “Now tell me what the devil you’re talking about!”
“Something happened to Lilly,” Van Resen said, after a deep breath. “An infection that will make her dangerous to the rest of us!”
“How? Doctor, I’m paid to protect these people!” the ranger snarled. The other castaways had congregated around Lilly rubbing her limbs and cheeks, searching for a pulse—unable to believe that the radiant beauty was dead.
“I fear one of us must
