He had a point. Zane had heard many jungle legends, and it would have been foolish to try to warn the team of every potential threat. Now that he thought about it, tourist groups traveled safely through this region all the time, and the only threats they faced were from nature — venomous snakes, poisonous frogs, jaguars, electric eels, piranha.
“So you believe we’re being followed by one or more men from this tribe?” Zane asked.
“Either the Dawanis or another tribe with hostile intentions, yes. I think the Dawanis are the most likely culprit because they wander across a large territory. One of the secrets of their success is their ability to stay on the move. There are stories of the Dawanis showing up in Peru and Columbia to the west, and in the hilly north near the border with Venezuela. They even raided an indigenous village mere miles from Manaus. It’s part of what makes them so frightening. They could show up anywhere, at any time. In fact, they’re so unpredictable that many Indians believe they’re spirits and not human.”
“And I take it they’ve been seen in this area?”
Jorge nodded. “There have only been a few reports, but they have been seen here on rare occasions. It wouldn’t surprise me if our friend Osak has heard of them, although he’s still young.”
“Maybe we should bring him in… mention your suspicions.” Zane leaned back against the tree. “Who knows, he might be able to help us keep an eye on things.”
“No,” Jorge said firmly. “I don’t want to tell anyone until I have more information, not even Osak. At this point, everyone understands that there is danger lurking out in the jungle. For now, that is good enough.”
Zane’s brow furrowed as he looked around the clearing. “Speaking of Osak, where is he?”
“He left about an hour ago.” Jorge nodded toward the other side of camp. “You know, he’s seemed different since we arrived in the crater.”
“How so?”
“He’s a child of the jungle, and yet he doesn’t seem comfortable here. He almost looks nervous, which is not like him.”
“Do you think he’ll be okay on his own?”
“I hope so.”
It wasn’t the answer Zane had expected. “Should we go look for him?”
“No, he’ll be fine. I didn’t mean to scare you. I don’t think he’ll go far. I think he’s trying to get a feel for the jungle down here, learn its ways.”
Zane hoped he was right. Because if Osak wasn’t safe, then neither were they.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
After using the latrine, Corporal Dez Wilson stepped over to a nearby tree and retrieved his rifle. Despite all of the usual irritants, something about nighttime in the jungle was refreshing. It reminded him of moonlit fishing trips as a kid in the lowland swamps of his native South Carolina.
Gun in hand, he paused to enjoy the moment. It was then that he noticed something odd: the jungle had suddenly grown quiet. Just moments before, the forest had resonated with the noisy din of thousands of insects and the bark of dozens of frogs. Now, the silence was deafening.
“Strange,” he muttered.
Had some big cat approached? It was possible, but even if something was lurking out there, he’d be back inside the perimeter within a couple of minutes.
Suddenly a noise broke the silence. Wilson stiffened and turned in the direction it seemed to have come from. He couldn’t be sure, but it sounded like the soft pad of footsteps.
“Dez!” someone called.
Wilson flinched and lifted his rifle. The voice sounded odd, but they had clearly called his name.
Maybe it was Corporal Tocchet. He was the only other one on patrol right now. And yet the voice had come from farther out in the jungle. The whole thing didn’t make sense. Slowly, he reached into his pocket. He moved his hand around, searching for his radio, then cursed when he remembered he’d left it sitting against the tree just inside the motion-sensor system.
He cupped his hands around his mouth. “Landon, is that you?”
Hearing no response, Wilson flipped his night vision visor over his eyes. He scanned the area, looking for any signs of life. About a hundred yards away, high in the trees, he saw several heat signatures. A family of monkeys was hunkered down on a large limb. Strange, he thought. They seem to be frozen in place.
“Dez, over here!”
Wilson frowned. Now that sounded like Tocchet. But there was still something strange about the voice.
“Stay where you are,” he barked.
Growling in frustration, he followed an animal trail that led generally in the direction of the voice. The undergrowth was thicker here, making it more difficult to see anything off the path. He gripped his M4 tightly as he brushed past limbs and vines. The hot professor had told them that jaguars were most active at night, and if true, he wanted to be prepared to fire if necessary.
As he continued forward, Wilson tried to reconcile something in his mind. If it really was his partner, then what the heck was he doing out here? Their routine was to circle the perimeter of the camp in a way that put them on opposite sides at all times. It just didn’t make any sense.
A few minutes later, Wilson found himself in a clearing. He scanned in each direction, but there were no other ways out. The surrounding foliage was too thick. The trail seemed to have come to an end. What now?
He cupped his hands again. “Landon!”
Silence. The presence of a big cat or snake seemed the only plausible reason for the silence that gripped the forest. He remembered from a biology class in college that animals would instinctively freeze when a predator was close by.
Maybe that’s why Landon needs me. He’s in some kind of trouble.
“Hey, man, where are you?”
He heard the snap of a twig to his right and swung his rifle in that direction. A tiny limb jiggled, but other than that, he saw nothing move. As he continued to stare in that direction, beads of sweat formed on his forehead. Some of it pooled and streamed into his eyes, forcing him to reach up and wipe under his visor.
Something just didn’t feel right. His sense of direction was good, and Tocchet should have been right in this very spot. In fact, if he’d been using the same trail, then he couldn’t have gone any farther without making a ruckus.
Suddenly there was a slight rustling directly ahead. It seemed to come from behind a large tree on the far side of the clearing, so he took a few steps toward it. “Landon? If you’re pulling my leg… man, I’m gonna kill you.”
Something moved in his peripheral vision. Wilson turned and saw a cloud seeping into the clearing. He assumed it was fog, but it had a strange odor, almost like the scent of a flower or herb.
Wilson took a deep breath then exhaled slowly. It was time to get back to camp. If Tocchet really was lost somewhere out there, then he wasn’t going to find him alone. He needed to bring back some of the others.
He was about to call out for his partner one last time when he noticed something strange: he couldn’t move the muscles of his mouth.
What the…?
Next he tried to lift his rifle. It felt like it weighed two hundred pounds, and he was able to shift it only slightly. Something was happening to him.
There was more shuffling in the undergrowth nearby, but Wilson was unable to turn and look.
The fog. The words echoed in his thoughts. It was the fog that had caused this. It’s why he couldn’t move.
Seconds later, Wilson fell over. He remained there, unable to move or speak. Paralysis now gripped every inch of his body. The rustling grew louder. Whoever was out there knew he could no longer defend himself.
A pair of black legs suddenly appeared in the mist, moving toward him. They stopped a few feet away. Wilson flinched in fear, his heart beating wildly in his chest.