She straightened abruptly. “Here!” she said.
“Here?”
“Yes, here!” She whirled toward him. “Here, damn it!”
He gave a quick, disbelieving look at the impenetrable tangle on the banks and said, “My opinion exactly,” before he yelled a command to Pepe, who instantly turned the boat toward shore.
There wasn’t a good place to leave the boats, but Ben hid them as best he could, pulling them into a cove and securing them with chains to sturdy trees. Even so, he was well aware that the boats were just as likely as not to be missing when they returned. It was a problem he’d foreseen, though, so they dragged two large, inflatable rafts about fifty yards inland and hid them, too.
The tangle of vegetation was always thickest on the riverbanks, where more sunlight was available; they had to hack their way off the boats, but once they were in the dimness under the triple canopy, they found it much easier to move around. Plant life didn’t linger on the jungle floor; it had to reach upward, toward the sunlight, to survive. It was a different world under the canopy, a world of climbing orchids and still, humid air. Giant buttressed roots anchored trees whose limbs stretched far overhead, lost in a sea of green. The brightest noon became a twilight in this dim world where vegetation reigned; thick liana vines trailed from overhead, sometimes swaying with the invisible movements of monkeys far above. Occasionally a ray of sunlight would dapple the leaves. Sound seemed to flatten and die; though they could hear the chirping and chattering of the jungle denizens, it had a muted, faraway quality to it. The jungle had the same hushed expectancy as a cathedral.
Jillian worked with the men to unload the boats. Each of them would carry a pack that included their own lightweight tent, a foam sleeping pad, their personal belongings, and some of the general supplies. The remaining supplies would be loaded onto four two-man litters, to be carried by the eight helpers. Ben had also left enough supplies with the rafts to get them back to Manaus.
It took most of the remaining hours of daylight to unload the boat and divide the supplies, so rather than push on, Ben decided they’d spend the night there. They set up the tents in their first inland camp and built a fire. They would leave the alcohol stoves behind, as they added too much weight. Henceforth, they would cook on a campfire.
Late in the afternoon Kates left the camp to attend to a call of nature. Less than two minutes later they heard his hoarse scream. Ben grabbed his shotgun and plunged in the direction of the screams, with everyone else streaming behind him.
The vegetation was so dense that Kates hadn’t gone far. Jillian plainly heard Ben say, “It isn’t poisonous.”
“Goddammit, don’t tell me it isn’t poisonous!” Kates was screaming when they all got there. “It’s a coral snake!”
“False coral,” Ben said patiently. “It’s a river snake. Unless you’re small enough for it to swallow, you aren’t in any danger. Just calm down, and from now on carry a stick with you.”
The Brazilians were already heading back to camp, trying to hide their smiles. Jillian turned to do the same, and bumped into Dutra.
Instantly she jumped back, her stomach roiling with distaste at having touched him. She hadn’t realized he was standing so close behind her, though as his rank smell rose to her nostrils she wondered how she could have missed him. He didn’t say anything, just grinned at her, showing his stained teeth. The long incisors made a chill prickle her spine. His eyes were flat and malevolent as he stared at her breasts; Jillian had the sickening intuition that he was thinking of biting them.
She started to hurry back to the camp, but then halted. Though the tents were only about twenty yards away, the thick vegetation would hide her from view for most of the way. With Dutra so close, there was no way she would take the chance of being caught alone even for those few steps. Instead, she deliberately stepped close to Ben’s side. He gave her a surprised look; then his gaze slid to Dutra, and she saw instant understanding replace the surprise.
He slipped his arm around her waist. Jillian thought wryly that she should have expected that. Ben Lewis wasn’t one to let any opportunity pass.
Leaving Kates there to accomplish what had been interrupted by his sighting of the snake, they turned back to the camp. Dutra was nowhere in sight, and she was surprised at how silently he could move.
Ben squeezed her waist. “All right?” he asked in a low voice.
“Sure,” she replied, giving him a grateful smile. “I was just being cautious.”
“Smart girl.”
He halted when they could just see the tents through the foliage, holding her in place beside him. “I’m going to kiss you,” he murmured, already bending his head. “Play along.”
Play along, indeed. Caught in his strong arms before she could react, she didn’t have much choice. She tried to protest, but then his lips were on hers, and he slipped his tongue into her mouth before she could prevent it.
A wild shudder of pleasure racked her, and she had the disjointed thought that it should be against the law for anyone to kiss the way Ben Lewis did. She knew she should push him away, but couldn’t resist the temptation to let herself enjoy the moment. She wound her arms around his brawny neck and sank against him, reveling in the hardness of his muscled body.
He made a rough sound of surprise and satisfaction in his throat and gathered her even closer, adjusting her hips to fit his. One hand slipped down to squeeze her buttocks.
Quick as a flash Jillian slipped away from him, giving him a wink over her shoulder as she stepped into the camp clearing. Behind her, she heard his groan of frustration. It was just what he deserved. She hadn’t evaded Dutra just to put herself in Ben’s hands, skillful though they were; he needed to learn not to take advantage of a damsel in distress.
After eating, she retired early to her tent, deciding that Ben still looked a bit put out and it would be best to avoid him. Inside, she unrolled the foam pad, which was only about an inch thick but surprisingly comfortable. The nylon tents were small; high enough to sit up in, four and a half feet wide. The sleep pads were thirty inches wide, so that left two feet on the side for personal gear. The open end of the tent could be closed by a heavy-duty, two-sided plastic zipper. To secure it, she took a roll of electrician’s tape from her pack, cut off a three-inch strip, and placed it across the zipper right below the head. That way no one on the outside could unzip it; it made a cheap and effective security device. With sturdy nylon between her and the jungle, and electrician’s tape between her and Ben Lewis, she felt fairly safe.
She carefully plotted the coordinates that she would give Ben the next morning, then packed everything away and undressed. From experience she knew enough to get comfortable, and that meant stripping down to her underwear, which consisted of cotton underpants and a cotton tank shirt. She didn’t carry bras on expeditions.
She switched off the flashlight; faint light from the fire filtered through the nylon, so it wasn’t completely dark. She reached into her pack and got the pistol, putting it close by her head. She could hear Ben retiring to his tent, which he had positioned right next to hers, and the low murmur of voices from those who remained around the fire. If they were smart, they would try to get as much sleep as they could, because tomorrow would be grueling. Taking her own advice, she stretched out and promptly went to sleep.
* * *
Rick stared resentfully at the two tents set up right next to each other. “She’s told him about the treasure,” he muttered to Kates. “He’s going to try to cut in on us.”
Kates had had the same thought, but Lewis hadn’t said anything to indicate that he thought there was anything in the jungle other than ruins. He wouldn’t have worried about it if Lewis hadn’t turned out to be completely different from the man Kates had thought he was hiring. The Lewis who had taken charge of the expedition was a far cry from the careless booze hound he had seemed at first.
“We’ll have to watch him,” Kates finally said. That was about all they could do r
ight now. After they found the treasure, though . . . that would be a different situation.
“I never thought Jillian would take up with him,” Rick mused with a bitter undertone. “Trust her to do whatever will screw me up the most. She was a pain in the ass from the day she was born.”
Kates gave the other man a long, considering look. Rick Sherwood wasn’t distinguished by his intelligence. Kates rather looked forward to the time when Dutra would shut that whining mouth forever.
“I doubt she spared you a thought when she became involved with Lewis,” he replied. No, more than likely this was just another of her maneuvers. Jillian was nothing like her half brother; she was both shrewd and closemouthed, and she might sense that Kates had his own agenda. Getting in tight with Lewis might be a form of self-protection, a way of lining up a bodyguard, so to speak. Like Rick, he never would have suspected it, given the animosity between the two of them when they first met, but she wouldn’t be the first woman to take an opportunity when she saw it. Evidently she was smarter than they were, in seeing Lewis’s true character before they did, and taking advantage of it.
Lewis would be a problem. He was tough and wily and already watched Dutra like a hawk. As far as Kates could tell, he was never unarmed. They’d need an ambush to take him out.
There had been nothing but problems from the minute they left Manaus. Rather than the expert on the interior he had claimed to be, Dutra had turned out to be a murderous thug who had sometimes gone upriver to hide out from the law. The river he had gone up, however, wasn’t the one they were on. His skills in the jungle were mediocre at best. Kates only hoped Dutra was skilled enough to get them back out when they found the treasure, because Lewis wouldn’t be making the return trip.
9
Even though she had known what the day would be like, Jillian couldn’t believe how rough it was. The pack on her back was so heavy that by the time they stopped at noon she felt as if she could barely lift her feet. The straps pulled at her shoulders, and her thighs were burning. Trekking through a jungle wasn’t easy even without a pack, and with one it approached torture. It even took extra effort to inhale the heavy, wet air. She had to look out for roots that might trip her, avoid trailing vines that might sting, and carry a heavy stick to ward off any creatures that their passage disturbed.
Ben and the two Tukanos, Pepe and Eulogio, seemed tireless, although Ben was drenched with sweat while the Indians remained dry. Jillian felt proud that she fared at least as well as the porters, and better than Dutra. Rick and Kates, as she had expected, had the hardest time of all, for they had been utterly unprepared for the sheer physical effort of it. Ben wasn’t setting a very fast pace on the first day, but even so, they were gasping for breath in that deep, hoarse manner of complete exhaustion. When Ben called a halt, they sat down right where they stood, without even removing their packs.
Jillian shrugged out of her pack and set it down. “Drink some water,” she said, taking in Rick’s pallor. “And take a salt tablet.”
Neither of them moved. “Drink some water,” she said insistently.
Rick opened one eye to glare at her. “Who put you in charge?” he demanded nastily. “Bossy bitch.”
“You should listen to her.” Ben’s tone was hard. “She knows a hell of a lot more about what she’s doing than you do. If you want to feel better, you’ll do as she says, because I’ll leave you here if you aren’t ready to go when the rest of us are.”
Kates didn’t join the argument, and after a minute he reached for his water. Jillian also saw him take a salt tablet. But the expression on his face when he looked at Ben wasn’t pleasant, and she realized he probably hadn’t liked the idea of being left behind, since he had financed the expedition. When she considered it, she had to admit that Ben had more gall than any two normal people put together.
Sullenly Rick followed Kates’s lead and soon began to feel better; well enough, at any rate, to eat a fair amount when Pepe had the food ready.
When they began preparing to start out again, Rick walked over to Jillian’s pack. “I think I’ll carry yours and let you carry mine,” he said, still in that nasty tone. “I don’t think you’ll be so perky then. I doubt you’ll last an hour. You couldn’t have kept up if you’d been carrying your fair share of weight.”
She couldn’t think of anything she had done to trigger such outright hostility, and she turned away to hide the hurt she couldn’t keep from her eyes. It was silly, because she knew Rick and knew better than to expect any kind of regard from him, but he was her brother, and she couldn’t write him out of her life. That day might come, but it hadn’t arrived yet, and she was surprised to find herself vulnerable to his attacks.
She didn’t like the idea of Rick having her pack, since her pistol was in it, but she wouldn’t fight him over it. It wasn’t that important.
“Don’t touch her pack,” Ben said, stepping in once again. He didn’t care about anything Rick Sherwood might say or think. “You stupid jerk, she’s carrying just as much weight as you are, and maybe more. On second thought, you can pick both packs up, so you can compare the weight, but then you’ll very gently put hers down and keep your fucking mouth shut from now on.”
Rick stood over her pack, glaring at him.
“Pick it up!” Ben snapped.
Slowly Rick leaned over and hefted the pack. A surprised expression crossed his face and he darted a quick look at Jillian. Then his mouth twisted into a sneer again and he started to dump the pack on the ground.
“Hold it!” Ben rapped out the words. “I said gently.” He stood with his feet squarely planted, his head lowered just a little. His hands hung loose at his sides, but he looked like a man who was coiled to act.
His fury was plain in his eyes, but Rick gently lowered the pack as he had been ordered. Without another word he moved to his own pack.
“I agree with Lewis,” Kates said in a hard, low voice as he grabbed Rick and pulled him off to the side. “Keep your fucking mouth shut. I don’t care if you hate your sister’s guts. If you keep it up, she’s going to start thinking that she doesn’t have to put up with us, that there’s no reason why she and Lewis can’t go on alone. Do whatever you have to do to get on her good side, and I mean it.”
Rick’s expression was both sullen and furious, but for once he took the advice given him: he kept his mouth shut.
Jillian picked up her pack and silently slipped her arms through the straps, then buckled the one across her chest to anchor it. Ben came over to her. “All right?” he asked.
She wasn’t certain how he meant the question. Was he asking if she was upset about Rick or if she was handling the pace okay? It didn’t matter, she decided, because the answer was the same either way. “All right.”
He moved around, making certain everyone was loaded up and nothing was left behind. He had changed since they left the boats; he was as wary and alert as a wild animal, his narrowed eyes sweeping from one side of the trail to the other, missing nothing. His tone was brisk and commanding, and now she had no trouble believing that he was the best guide in the Amazon. Even his appearance had changed: his pant legs were tucked into his boots, which came up to midcalf, and his shirt was neatly tucked into his pants. He wore the pistol openly now, in a holster strapped to his lean hip, for all the world like an Old West gunfighter. A machete with a two-foot blade hung in a scabbard from his belt, and he carried the pump shotgun slung over his left shoulder. All of that armament could have had something to do with the way Rick had backed down.
“Everyone ready,” Ben called. “All right, let’s go.”
He led, using his machete to clear the way when necessary. Pepe and Eulogio followed with a litter, and Jillian fell in behind them. Directly behind her were Jorge and Floriano with another litter. Vicente and Martim were teamed, then Joaquim and Dutra. Rick and Kates brought up the rear, struggling to keep the pace.
The rest had allowed Jillian to recoup her strength, but by the time two hours had passed
she was feeling the strain more with each step. The straps of the pack dug into her shoulder muscles, and the discomfort quickly became real pain. She tried shifting the straps around, but that also shifted the weight of the pack and made it difficult to carry. She began hooking her thumbs under the straps to move the pressure points, because otherwise she didn’t know how she was going to be able to bear it for several more hours. For tomorrow, she promised herself, she would make some kind of padding to protect her shoulders.
Her legs, though aching, were holding up. She was accustomed to running five miles a day at home, and she regularly lifted weights, but nothing got you accustomed to packing a load except packing a load. The days spent on the boat without exercise hadn’t helped, either. She knew that things would be better by the third day; it was just a matter of enduring until then.
Behind her, Jorge said softly, “The straps are causing pain, senhora?”
She looked over her shoulder with a smile. “Yes, they are. I’ll pad them tomorrow.”
“Perhaps you would like to put your pack on our litter. We would not even notice the weight.”
“Thank you for the offer,” she replied, touched by his consideration. “But if I can’t carry my portion, I don’t deserve to be along.”
“But you are a woman, senhora. You should not have to carry a man’s burden.”
“On this trip, yes, I should. I am really very strong; soon I won’t even notice the weight.”
“Very well. But if it becomes too much, we will carry it for you.”
Hearing their voices, Ben looked over his shoulder at them. He swiftly skimmed Jillian with an expert eye, gauging her endurance. She had no doubt that he had heard enough to understand the gist of the conversation. Without saying anything, evidently satisfied, he returned his attention to the trail.
Perhaps it was consideration, though there was an equal possibility that it was sheer caution, but Ben called a halt for the day while there were at least two hours of light still remaining. Jillian unbuckled the chest strap and gingerly eased the pack off her shoulders, wincing at the protest of her muscles. She would gladly have dropped straight to the ground, but there was still work to do. An area had to be cleared for the tents, and she pulled on a pair of gloves before taking up a machete and hacking at the undergrowth.