Zane and Jorge exchanged a brief glance. The Brazilian then cleared his throat and said, “Like Senhor Zane, I can’t tell you who was shooting at us, nor can I tell you where the missing soldier is or what happened to him. But I want to remind you that while most tribes are friendly, there are some who aren’t.”
“Wait, wait,” Amanda said. “Back on the boat you told us that all the tribes here are friendly.”
Jorge shook his head. “No, that’s not what I said. I said that most of the tribes here are friendly. Of course, everyone here knows that Brazil has some indigenous people who aren’t. You’re all fully aware of the documented attacks.”
“I’m not aware of any indigenous hostiles in this area,” Max said.
“Have you heard of the Dawanis?”
Max shook his head. “The name rings a bell, but I can’t say I’m familiar with them.”
“That doesn’t surprise me,” Jorge said. “You won’t find this tribe in a textbook or on the Internet, at least not that I’m aware of. Some say they’re a legend, but there have been enough victims and sightings over the years to indicate they’re very real.”
Katiya’s eyes narrowed. “I’m like Max. The name sounds vaguely familiar, but that’s about it.”
Jorge used the next several minutes to give the group a more sanitized version of the description he’d given Zane. He simply told them that the Dawanis wandered through the region, terrorizing other tribes. Truthful but without the disturbing details.
“Good heavens,” Katiya said after he’d finished. “They sound horrible. But surely you don’t think they were the ones shooting at—”
Jorge gave her a half smile. “No, they don’t own guns.”
“Then what makes you think they’re here?” Brett asked.
“I’ve seen a few things out in the jungle that led me to believe we were being followed. You may be curious why I didn’t mention it before now. Well, that’s because I had no proof. The things I saw also could have been some animal of the jungle. Now, to be honest, I didn’t think it was an animal, but I wasn’t about to create panic without solid evidence that something was out there.”
“Do you think it’s possible they were responsible for Corporal Wilson’s disappearance?” Brett asked.
“I can’t say it was the Dawanis, but I do believe it’s possible the answer involves some hostile tribe, perhaps one that lives here in this place.”
Katiya frowned. “Has this ever happened before?”
“To my knowledge, there are no reports of Dawanis attacking people traveling along the Amazon. Of course, I’m not aware of any official confirmation that they even exist. The few Brazilians who do know the name believe it’s a legend.”
“You indicated that they were wanderers,” Katiya said. “Perhaps this is their home base. Perhaps they conduct their raids from here.” She picked up a stick and drew an odd-looking shape in the dirt. “If this is Brazil, then we’re somewhere in here.” She drew a small circle indicating the approximate location of the crater. “You told us earlier that the attacks have taken place from Peru and Columbia in the west to Manaus in the east.” She tapped the circle and said, “This crater is right in the center.”
“Yes, I guess it’s possible,” Jorge said. “Though, again, all we can do at this point is speculate.”
“It might also explain all of the strange stories about this place,” Amanda said, leaning forward and pointing at the drawn circle. “Maybe that’s why so many who came here never made it back out.”
Katiya tapped her chin lightly with the stick. “Let’s take this a bit further. What are we here for? We’re here because we’re looking for an alien outpost.”
Zane frowned. “Are you trying to say these tribesmen are the aliens?”
“No, although we shouldn’t rule anything out at this point.” She drew a dot in the center of the small circle. “We’re trying to find some sort of mountain in the center of the crater, right? What better place for our alien friends to set up shop than right in the center of a place no one dares go? It’s like a built-in security system.”
Brett’s brow furrowed. “So you’re saying they might be working together?”
“No, more like some sort of symbiotic relationship. In other words, perhaps the aliens picked this place precisely because no one dared come here. They may have been visiting our planet for centuries, and if so, they likely know the remote areas better than we do.”
Zane nodded. There was a strong ring of truth to what she was saying. If you were going to visit Earth and stay hidden, why not here?
Katiya fixed her gaze on Jorge. “You obviously know more about this tribe than we do. How can we protect ourselves?”
The Brazilian was lighting a cigar as she spoke. After taking a few puffs, he put away his lighter and said, “Well, despite the stories of their spiritual powers, one thing we can be sure of is that they are still flesh and blood like you and me.”
“Which means they’ll go down if we fill them full of bullets.” Tocchet patted the M4A1 draped across his chest.
“So, we do the same things we’ve been doing in order to maintain our safety,” Jorge said. “But now we must do them even better.”
“Which reminds me,” Zane said. “We’re going to change things up. From this point forward, nobody, and I mean nobody, travels outside camp alone. I don’t care if it’s just to use the latrine or pick a flower, you will have someone next to you at all times. Everybody understand that?” After seeing nods, he continued. “As you can see, we’ve already reduced the perimeter so that we’re always within shouting distance of one another.”
Jorge let a raft of smoke spill out of his mouth. “And if you see or hear anything out of the ordinary, please come to me immediately. I don’t care how small it is. Anything might be important.”
Zane surveyed the group. Most were still in shock, and yet there seemed to be a collective resolve to finish their job. “Okay, let’s try to get some rest. I’m going to lead a search party out at first light. Once we’ve done that, we’re going to march as fast as we can. Jorge believes we can be at the mountain by nightfall.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Zane took a long swig from his canteen, allowing the warm water to moisten his parched throat. They had been marching for most of the day, and even he was beginning to tire in the suffocating heat and humidity. For the last several miles he had simply willed his feet to keep moving, knowing that the quicker they got to the mountain, the quicker they’d all be able to rest.
They had spent several hours searching for Wilson that morning, but despite covering several square miles, they’d found nothing. No footprints, no piece of fabric, no sign that the corporal had ever been there. It was as if the soldier had been plucked out of the jungle by some mysterious hand, leaving no trace behind.
Zane bit his lower lip. He worried about the mental state of his team. There had been shock after Corporal Nash’s death, but that had been more sorrow than fear. The piranhas posed no ongoing threat to the group. Wilson’s disappearance had changed everything. Now the same eyes that had previously been filled with awe and wonder were flitting nervously from one side of the path to the other. Even the two remaining Green Berets behaved differently. They gripped their rifles a little tighter and turned quickly at the slightest movement in the jungle.
“Any updates on our sat phone?” Zane asked Brett as they walked at the front.
“I spent about an hour working on it this morning,” Brett said. “I don’t want to give anyone false hope, but I actually think there’s a chance I can get this thing up and running. The problem is that it’s going to take time, lots of time.”