Part 25 (1/2)

Polomo stepped forward and placed a hand on Temba's shoulder. ”You could join us, Temba. You could come here and live with us. He can provide us with all the food we need. He can protect us from the militias. Out here we can live the lives we were always meant to, without fear.”

Temba's eyes met Ndola's. They were talking about magic. Such things were impossible. This man they were speaking of was a trickster, a charlatan. He had taken advantage of the Mbuti pain and duped them. He turned to Polomo. ”Give me Sam. That's all that I ask. Give me Sam, and I will forgive you for Kuntolo's death. I will leave this place and never come back.”

Polomo's fingers slid off Temba's shoulder and closed around his spear with a look of regret. ”We can't do that.”

”Why, because he wants her?” Temba's back went rigid. His thigh muscles tensed, ready to spring.

”He won't be happy when he learns Temba was here,” Ndola pointed out. ”No one can know of this place. We know Temba cannot be trusted.”

”You should leave here,” Polomo said. ”If you will not join us, you need to leave now.”

”I won't leave without Sam,” Temba answered. ”What? Will you kill me like you killed Kuntolo?”

Polomo hesitated. His palm slid across his forehead. A look pa.s.sed between Ndola and Polomo. Temba watched Ndola's hand slide to the small bow at his shoulder.

Sam scoffed.

Guy's grin mocked her.

”You don't believe in magic, Sam?” he asked.

”Are you f.u.c.king serious?”

”'Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.' Are you familiar with that statement?”

She shrugged half-heartedly. He was teasing her, and she was tired of it.

”Arthur C. Clarke,” Guy clarified. ”I wouldn't have kept you here if you weren't a scientist. I think I've made that quite obvious. But in order to understand the forces at play, you're going to have to keep a very open mind. And, you're going to need to be a lot more cooperative. Will you reconsider coming with me now? Have I aroused your curiosity enough?”

She grimaced. ”I'd rather sit here on the floor.”

The Belgian scowled. ”Suit yourself, American,” he hissed and pulled something from his pocket.

Temba's heel struck Polomo between the ribs, blasting air from the Mbuti's lungs. He tumbled to the ground at the feet of his fellows. Temba's other foot slipped in the mud, and he stumbled, catching himself with one arm before he collapsed.

Ndola's bow came up, arrow drawn. Half a dozen spearheads rose with it.

Temba turned and sprinted. His feet slipped in the mud, but he kept his balance as he ran. An arrow sliced the air near his shoulder. His instinct kicked in, and he pivoted and bolted in the opposite direction.

The change in direction sent him barreling into a small BaMbuti hut. Wood and leaves splintered under the cras.h.i.+ng weight of his body. Mud flung into the air. Temba collapsed amidst the torn boughs to see the others right behind him.

Kitu came down at him, spear thrusting in an overhead jab. Tangled amid the debris, Temba couldn't get out of the way. The spearhead drove toward his ribs. Temba's fingertips brushed a wooden shaft to his right. He swung the shaft to block the coming blow. An axe blade hooked around the spearhead and drove it to Temba's left. Kitu stumbled off-balance, and Temba raised a heel, connecting solidly with the Mbuti's chest.

Kitu fell back, gasping for air.

Temba rolled to his feet, axe still in hand, now held defensively. He squared off against the Mbuti who moved to surround him. As Kitu climbed to his feet, Temba swung the axe to hold his attackers at bay. They kept their distance for the moment, spears held at length.

Temba found his opening before they encircled him completely. He took off running for the undergrowth at the edge of the clearing. He heard the tw.a.n.g of a bowstring and ducked. The arrow flew overhead and split a low hanging leaf.

Temba dove into the foliage a moment later. With the undergrowth so thick, he kicked his feet up high, arms extended. He hit the ground headfirst and ducked into a roll. As he came up to his feet, he heard a spear thwack into the brush behind him.

He remembered his planned escape route and followed it exactly, only pausing for a moment to retrieve his bow and arrows. Temba heard the others shouting at the edge of the clearing. Instead of chasing after him, they stared into the forest with bows and spears ready.

Temba wondered how many of their arrows were already tipped with lethal poison.

They've all gone mad.

He didn't wait to find out if they'd chase him. Surely they'd only wait so long and they were excellent trackers. Temba picked a direction and ran.

Sam almost expected death. She thought he had gone for a weapon. What he produced confused her even more.

”When you are ready to cooperate, perhaps I'll answer your questions,” Guy told her. ”Until then, you can refuse my hospitality. But I will leave you this to consider.”

Tiny scratches at the corners of the familiar pink plastic casing showed how long she had owned it. She had carried it with her through Africa, even though its uses in the wilderness were limited.

”The battery is long dead. Even if it weren't, there is no service to speak of in a hundred miles. Take a long look at it. Like me, it holds all the answers you're looking for.”

Guy tossed it at her feet and turned away. As he disappeared, Sam watched the cell phone skid to a stop on the rough wooden floor. There it sat, just out of reach.

22.

Water trickled through as the last raindrops made their slow descent through the thick canopy. Darkness fell in the jungle. The cloudy sky took on a periwinkle hue with dusk upon them.

The click of a gun's safety jolted Ike's nerves. His hands tightened around his rifle. He didn't have time to raise it before he was staring down the barrel of his own Desert Eagle. Gilles' intense eyes stared back at him.

The tension lasted only a moment, before the Congolese mercenary relaxed and lowered his weapon.

”Sorry, Ike.”

”No worries, mate,” Ike replied uneasily. ”It was an honest mistake.”

”I didn't hear you coming is all,” Gilles explained.

”Easy. Just relax,” Ike a.s.sured him with a pat on the shoulder.

Delani emerged from the jungle behind Ike and the three mercenaries walked to the embankment. Occasional flooding kept this stretch of sh.o.r.eline from overgrowing and provided a small beach against the stream for the group to relax. Raoul, Brandon, and Nessa sat at the edge of the undergrowth collecting their breath.

Ike crouched beside Nessa. The chemist sat on a thick branch, hunched forward to inspect her leg. The leg of her pants was rolled up to her knee and a tight b.l.o.o.d.y bandage constricted her calf.

”How y' holding up, luv?” Ike asked her.

”Not bad, considering,” she replied with a slight grin.

”We're gonna be crossing the stream soon. How do you feel about that?”

Nessa watched the slow-moving water. A few old logs clogged this particular bend, washed downstream by yearly flooding. ”Do you know how many parasites are in there?”