“Stay close,” Javier said in a low voice.
Rick nodded. Pausing for only a minute could allow the others to disappear from sight. It would be very easy to get lost forever out here, especially in the dark of night.
They marched on, the sounds of damp leaves and snapping twigs under their booted feet marking their journey.
Rick tried to keep his own panic at bay. He knew Ecuador’s rainforest had incredible biodiversity. He just hoped they wouldn’t cross paths with one of its most fierce inhabitants—the jaguar. He still had nightmares about crossing paths with the big cats in the Mato Grosso. He shuddered at the thought and said a silent prayer that they wouldn’t fall prey to any predator tonight—of the human or animal variety.
Rick felt sweat trickling down his neck and back as they fought their way forward in the dark through the dense, humid rainforest, and thought to himself how utterly insane this was. Every time he ventured out into the jungle, it seemed things got even more insane. Here he was putting on a brave face, marching with a small group of people out into the deep jungle, at night, amongst deadly predators, going to rescue a prisoner from an armed group of mercenaries.
I must be mad, he thought to himself. And getting madder the older I get. He’d laugh if it wasn’t so imperative they make no sounds. He wondered what his father would have to say to him if he saw what he was doing and how he was allowing all these people to take on such a potentially deadly risk.
Just then, Rick jumped as something moved on a tree branch he’d grabbed to steady himself on the slippery path. He’d thought at first that it was a thick vine that had wrapped itself around the branch. It wasn’t. It was a snake. A big one, several feet in length. It was clearly disturbed by his presence as its body undulated and shifted, circling higher on the branch.
He let out a heavy sigh of relief when he realized it was an emerald tree boa, its bright green body accented with a distinctive pattern of irregular white zig-zagging horizontal stripes, and not one of the venomous varieties of snake this area was known to have.
“Sorry, dude,” he whispered under his breath.
The others had taken no notice of his close encounter.
Just as well, he thought.
They carried on silently in single-file, staying close to each other.
Javier started increasing his pace. The young Shuar was lithe and fit and sure on his feet. He seemed not to tire as he wielded his machete against the jungle growth. The entire hike had seemed effortless for him, as though he’d traveled this path all of his life.
The rest of them worked hard to keep up and maintain their footing through an ever-changing maze of twisting vines and trees and thick shrubs that scraped against their pantlegs and brushed their arms. They were all dripping with sweat now, their faces hot underneath the balaclavas.
They made their way down a steeper section. They grabbed onto tree trunks and vines to keep from slipping, their path made even more tricky by having to navigate in the darkness. The descent continued as the ground became even more wet and mushy with layers upon layers of fallen leaves.
They followed Javier as they rounded the slope of a small hill and descended next to a limestone outcropping, draped in thick vines and covered in moss, on their left. The ground beside them rose to about five feet as they passed by it.
Rick smelled the pungent tangle of earthen growth around and beneath the rocky outcropping. This area felt more humid, likely due to the now closer proximity of the Rio Santiago, he figured.
Suddenly, Luis tripped over a thick liana, sprouting from the rainforest floor. He let out a low grunt as he caught himself from falling by grabbing onto a nearby tree branch.
Far overhead, there was a series of high-pitched, piercing screams as a troop of Spix’s night monkeys were startled over their unwelcome presence, mistaking them for predators. Rick caught glimpses of their distinctive yellow chests, accented by dark gray fur, as the small, nocturnal monkeys leapt and swung wildly from branch to branch, and tree to tree, to get away from the intruders.
Javier quickly turned and glared at Luis.
“Careful,” Sofia whispered.
Luis nodded, feeling sheepish.
Rick silently cursed the situation. That’s all we need, he thought, now screaming night monkeys are going to announce our presence to the armed, hostage-taking mercenaries we’re inexplicably searching for, on our own. Or to the jaguars. Or both.
Javier waved them on.
They weren’t stopping for any reason.
They picked up their pace to escape the cacophony of monkey shrieks.
A short while later, Javier started slowing his pace. “We should be getting close,” he whispered to the group. “Stay low.”
They all crouched down lower and stayed close together, maintaining careful footing. The reality of their situation was pressing in on them. Out here, they were becoming increasingly vulnerable to all kinds of threats and there was no easy retreat.
Then, Javier stopped. He held up his fist for the group to halt.
They waited, wondering what was happening, hearts pounding.
“Wait here,” Javier said as he crept forward.
Rick grew concerned. He ignored Javier’s request and followed him.
About fifteen feet ahead, Javier stopped again. “Oh, no,” he whispered.
The prison camp was no longer there.
CHAPTER 11
“What do we do now?” Rick asked, after Javier told him that what they had feared was true—the prison camp had moved.
Javier didn’t answer right away. He took out a small flashlight and was searching the ground and surrounding area for traces of their movements. He crept a few feet ahead.
Rick followed, staying low.
Javier
