Part 22 (1/2)
”What?”
His hand fell to her knee. His fingers grazed the skin just above the scabbed flesh of her infected calf. ”If you are going to insist on attempting an escape I could remove your clothes. I have a feeling you'd think twice about it. All those poisonous plants and insects. And the hot sun. Not at all pleasant.”
”I wouldn't care,” she lied.
”Really? Then maybe I'll just do it.”
The conversation made Sam uneasy. She changed the subject. ”Why do you live in the middle of the jungle?”
”It's my turn to ask a question. Now, where is Brandon?”
”In San Diego.”
”Then I guess Alfred was wrong about that as well.”
”If Alfred already told you, then why are you asking me?” she asked, frustrated.
”Because now I know how you lie, Sam.”
”Is Alfred okay? Can I see him?”
He paused, mulling over his answer. He chose his words carefully. ”You're better off forgetting about Alfred from now on.”
”What? Why?”
”I only need one scientist,” he replied. ”That is why you're still alive.”
It all made sense. Alfred had lied about her working for H. Hurley International in an attempt to spare her life. For some reason, Guy wanted a scientist.
She chilled. ”The only reason?”
He grinned. The hand on her knee slid up her thigh. Fingers slipped under the fabric of her shorts. ”Perhaps not the only reason.”
She yanked her leg away and dropped the nearly finished bowl to the floor. ”Get away from me!”
He scooped up the bowl and threw it at her. The wooden dish struck her on the shoulder and bounced away as she cowered from the blow.
”There are others in the forest,” Sam heard herself say. ”They're going to come get me. And I don't care how sneaky or . . . or resourceful your pygmies are. They can't protect you from these people.”
”You mean Brandon?” he asked. ”The poker player? Or perhaps the mercenaries? Those who aren't killed by pygmy poison will succ.u.mb to the forest. No one survives the Msitu wa Damu. They will become lost and die. It is inevitable.”
She glared, summoning her haughtiest look. ”Everyone except for you?”
”Everyone except for the pygmies,” Guy corrected. He stood up and turned toward the door to the baraza. ”And me, because I am their friend.”
He collected his rifle on the way out the door.
The moment he was gone, Sam struggled against her bonds. The tight thong cut into her wrists and she banged her feet angrily against the floorboards. Finally, she curled against the post, defeated, and began to cry.
19.
It has to be tighter, for G.o.d's sake,” Nessa growled.
She yanked the rope away from Ike and pulled the knot tighter, pressing the bandage against her wound in the process. Even as she tugged, she winced from the increased pressure.
”Just didn't want to hurt you, luv,” Ike explained defensively, letting go.
”Do you want me to bleed to death, Ike?”
He didn't reply, deciding to let her temper play itself out.
Instead, he watched as Nessa tended to her own leg. Occasionally, she requested some medical supplies: bandages, alcohol, and pain medicine, which he retrieved from her bag.
Raoul sat nearby, legs crossed. Beside him, Kuntolo's body stretched out, eyes closed. The Frenchman wore a plagued expression, although his tears were at an end. Gilles stood at the edge of the camp, staring into the forest, pink and blue in the morning light. Although he held no weapon, he kept a serious vigil for any sign of danger.
”I . . . I didn't mean to snap at you,” Nessa said after fixing the bandages.
Ike placed a hand on her cheek and gave her a crocodile grin. This time she smiled back. The warmth surprised him.
Delani emerged from the jungle, moving quietly for a man his size. Only when he stepped up next to Ike did he tuck his pistol away. ”I couldn't find the others. But I found these.”
Delani dropped three items onto the ground in front of Nessa and Ike. A shattered pair of gla.s.ses, a hook prosthesis, and a single sandal. ”There was definitely a fight,” he went on. ”But no sign of any bodies.”
Nessa picked up the bent frame that remained of Alfred's gla.s.ses. She inspected them, noting the dried blood.
”How long do you suppose they were trailing us, waiting for us to split up?” Ike asked.
Delani shrugged.
”And now half of us are dead or gone.”
Delani shook his head. ”Give Gilles his rifle back,” Delani suggested coolly.
Gilles looked up at his name. Ike stood up and unshouldered the rifle. He handed the weapon over as Gilles nodded in thanks.
Something rustled in the forest. Everyone looked into the green boughs. The sound had originated east along the river. Two pistols and one newly returned rifle raised and pointed in that direction.
Brandon stepped through the foliage. Tiny scratches covered his cheeks and his knees were bloodied, but otherwise he looked unharmed.
”Thank G.o.d. You scared the h.e.l.l out of us, mate,” Ike said, lowering his pistol. He wrapped an arm around the exhausted man. Brandon leaned against him, grateful for the support. ”He's looking a little out of it. Get him some water.”
Gilles nodded and headed for the supplies. Meanwhile, Ike helped him sit down in the center of the camp.
”Where are the others?” Nessa asked him. ”They were with you.”
Brandon shrugged weakly. ”We were attacked. By pygmies.” His eyes glanced over Kuntolo's corpse. ”What happened?”