This Green Hell

combination of scholar and screen star. He smiled without opening his mouth, causing his cheeks to pull up slightly.

The last rays of sunlight thinned to a slit and then finally vanished. Halos of light appeared around the clearing as the generators whined into life. As soon as the lights ignited, their cyclopean heads were assailed by squadrons of flying insects of varying sizes, their bodies ricocheting off the thickened glass lenses.

The man glided closer and stopped a few feet in front of Aimee. He nodded respectfully then spoke in a voice that seemed to well up from deep within him. Aimee frowned slightly as she recognised some of the words curling from his barely opened mouth.

Alfraedo placed a hand on his chest and responded in Spanish, gesturing to all three of them.

Francisco whispered to Aimee, ‘He is speaking in an old Spanish dialect and also using some Latin words. He says his name is Father Alonso Gonzalez and he is a Spanish priest sent here to bring enlightenment to the indigenous population.’

‘I thought I recognised some Latin,’ Aimee whispered back. ‘Who the hell speaks that anymore? Ask him where he’s staying.’

The priest had turned to Aimee, seeming to watch her lips as she spoke. He repeated the question, ‘Where he’s staying, where he’s staying, where he’s staying’, trying different inflections as though tasting them on his tongue. After a few seconds he responded to Aimee directly, in a voice that contained only a hint of an accent.

‘Forgive me, senora, I have not heard the language of the English for a long time. I am Father Alonso Gonzalez, and, to answer your question, I am staying just a few miles to the northwest of your camp. I only became aware of your presence in the last few days when I spoke to some of your labourers…who seemed in a great hurry to leave.’

He held out his hand. Aimee looked at it for a moment, then grasped it. It was only later that she realised the grip had been cool and dry, unlike everyone else’s, whose skin was warm and slick with perspiration.

‘I’m Dr Aimee Weir — pleased to meet you, Father. Have you been in the jungle long?’

‘Longer than I can remember, Dr Aimee Weir, but I am patient, and my work is eternal. I bring the God’s Word to the Indians of Paraguay, and perhaps, one day, to this entire world.’

He brought his hand up to his face, seeming to smell his palm and fingers where they had pressed against Aimee’s hand. Aimee thought she saw his mouth working and had a disgusting impression that he was licking the traces of her perspiration.

Alfraedo cleared his throat. ‘Padre, the men that left the camp — are they with you now?’

Gonzalez dropped his hand and glided a little closer to the site manager. ‘I’m afraid not. I gave them my blessing and some supplies, but they were in a hurry to be on their way. Is there a problem here? If I may be of assistance, please let me know. At least allow me to conduct an evening mass at my church for the men. I detect a strong desire for spirituality here; I think they need me.’

Francisco cut in before Alfraedo could respond. ‘I’m not sure that is a good idea just now, padre. The men must not be allowed to leave the camp while we are under a formal quarantine order. Also, it may not be safe for you or your followers if some of our men are carrying the infection. It would be best if those who have left were strongly encouraged to return to us here at the camp.’ Francisco’s fine silver brows knitted for a moment, before he spoke again. ‘How far exactly are you from here, Father? If you have a sizeable group, I’m surprised that our initial surveys didn’t pick up your settlement when we were doing our initial aerial mapping.’

Aimee was convinced one of the priest’s eyes bulged and swivelled to look at Francisco while the other remained fixed on Alfraedo.

What? Must be a trick of the light, she thought as the priest’s head turned and both eyes fixed normally on the small doctor.

‘I’m not too far away, and my flock varies in size,’ he said. ‘The children of the forest come and go and need much guidance. I have been ill and not very active for a time, but I am healed now. I feel strong again; as if my own stone has been rolled back and, like the God, I have been reborn to carry on their work.’

Aimee felt the priest was both smoothly evasive and a little too fervid, and what was with the God reference? She’d never heard that expression before. There was something about him that made her feel very uncomfortable.

Gonzalez gave another closed-mouth smile and turned his hands palm upwards. ‘I would be happy to come here if that is your wish, but I assure you that any man in my care will be safe. I would like to suggest they come in small groups in the evenings for mass. Simply being in my church will be spiritually beneficial to the men.’

Francisco remained expressionless but his tone was a little terse. ‘We found evidence of a terrible attack by a large animal on a group of men just a few days ago. I feel it is too dangerous for our men to enter the jungle at night, and you shouldn’t be out there either. Perhaps, for your own safety, you should move into our camp temporarily. Then you could perform a morning mass for the men—’

Gonzalez cut him off abruptly. ‘My days are extremely busy, and if there were any large animals they have surely moved on by now. The jungle is safe, I assure you. I feel you are in more danger from your own men, who grow angrier and more fearful every day. Such emotions can be soothed through prayer.’

The priest glared at Francisco, and Aimee noticed that his eye seemed to bulge again.

Alfraedo cleared his throat and gave an apologetic little bow. ‘Thank you for the offer, Father. We can talk again tomorrow evening. Please may I ask of you one thing? If any more of our men come to you, could you please tell them to return to the camp…for their own safety?’

The priest looked around at the circle of men craning to hear the conversation. ‘I am sorry, I cannot do that. These men have the gift of free will; they may choose to exercise it by staying with me or travelling back to their own homes.’

Aimee heard Francisco hurrumph under his breath, before continuing to needle the priest.

‘I must warn you padre that I will need to inform the authorities of the men’s potential movement back to the cities…and of your providing assistance to them in violation of a formal quarantine order.’ He held the priest’s gaze.

Aimee could feel the tension building between the two men, and decided to ask a question before the doctor finished with one of the sharp but polite insults she had seen him use on boorish bureaucrats.

‘Father, did you see any sign of bandits in the jungle?’ She made a sweeping gesture with her arm to indicate the dark wall of green around them.

The priest tore his eyes away from Francisco and looked at her for a few seconds as though trying to see behind her eyes. ‘There are no bandits out there, there are no soldiers out there, there is just us.’

There was a hint of a smile on his lips as he looked at each of them individually, before letting his gaze rest on Francisco for a final few seconds. Then he turned and glided smoothly back into the jungle.

Aimee noticed Francisco shivered despite the evening’s humidity. She was feeling pretty spooked herself. Who mentioned soldiers? she wondered.

TWELVE

The scream of tearing metal woke the camp at around midnight.

Aimee sat up and blinked in the inky blackness. The camp lights were out and, as the moon wasn’t directly over the clearing, the darkness in her cabin was total. She sat still and listened…it was if the whole camp was holding its breath. She lifted her damp pillow, used it to wipe the perspiration off her face, flung it down and then threw back the mosquito netting.

She got unsteadily to her feet, feeling groggy, and staggered a little as she groped around on her table top for a lantern. She had to screw her eyes shut for a moment against the sepia yellow glow; her eyeballs felt swollen and grainy.

By now Aimee could hear shouts and running footsteps throughout the clearing. She pulled back the