man paused for a moment.
“There may be others,” the woman said.
“Woman, they’re all dead but us. They are dead, dead, dead, and the only reason we ain’t dead is those assholes were having so much fun killing the others that it gave the rest of us a chance to escape.”
The woman reached over and touched George’s arm. “That may be true. Is it Mr. George?” she asked.
“Just George. I don’t use my last name.”
“Well, George, that may be true, but sometimes we mustface our fears and put our concerns aside until we have time to worry about them. If we make it, then it’ll be because of people like you who help us through this jungle.”
George opened his mouth as if he was going to say something, but instead he looked down at her arm and stared at it until she moved her hand. “And who in the hell are you?” he asked. “I ain’t seen you around before. And don’t patronize me, woman. Just because I say it like it is, doesn’t mean I’m gonna run off into this jungle and leave you, the brat, or anyone else to those fanatics. I may bitch, but don’t confuse my bitching with being afraid.”
The man leaned back against the seat, his face turned toward the open window. Branches from a nearby bush trapped against the side of the SUV freed themselves, swinging through the window across George’s face. Big George reached up and pushed the broad leaves outside and away from the vehicle. “This ain’t gonna be a good day,” George muttered, just loud enough for those inside the SUV to hear. He spit out the window a couple of times, clearing plant trash from his lips.
Silent minutes passed before Nathan worked his way back up the convoy, past their SUV.
“We have to keep going, Richard,” Nathan said as he walked by, leaning inside the window. “Just keep going. We’ll refuel later when we reach a more open area.”
“Nathan, this is farther than we came three months ago.”
Jamal’s uncle straightened, his chest even with the open driver’s window. Jamal couldn’t see Uncle Nathan’s head above the window, but he heard his reply. “I know. Back then, Richard, we were just seeing where the road led.”
“I think we both knew we would need a way out if something happened in Monrovia.”
Nathan patted the arm again. “Yes, I think we did. We just never said it. Now, we’re committed to what is becoming more of a foot trail than a road.”
“It’s an old logging road,” George said sharply, his head stuck partially out the window. “I’ve also heard it’s an old diamond mining road. It could be either, but I know that we’ve been using it to identify woods with export value. Just neverused it to haul them out because it wasn’t wide enough. Wish I had come farther down it.”
“So do I,” Uncle Nathan said. “So do I. Either way, we know we’re heading in the right direction and those ahead of us know we’re coming. It is the best we can do.”
Jamal watched as Uncle Nathan faced the huge man. What if this man reached out and grabbed his uncle Nathan? Jamal looked at his gun. He wondered if he would be able to shoot—
A scream pierced the jungle noise, startling everyone. Even Uncle Nathan whirled with his M-16 pointed toward the jungle.
“Relax,” Victoria said. “That’s just the red colobus—a long-tailed monkey. Lots of animals out here, and that won’t be the first we hear or see. This rain forest is also the home of the bongo antelope, and when we cross the Cestos River, which should be ahead of us, we may be lucky enough to see a pigmy hippopotamus.”
“I can hardly wait,” George said, shaking his head.
Uncle Nathan’s face appeared in the back window. His eyebrows bunched. “Hi, you’re new, aren’t you?”
“Victoria Pearl,” the woman replied, reaching forward to shake Nathan’s hand.
“Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Pearl. Didn’t realize we had a conservationist along with us.”
“Probably explains why we’ve hit it off so well,”
“There may be others,” the woman said.
“Woman, they’re all dead but us. They are dead, dead, dead, and the only reason we ain’t dead is those assholes were having so much fun killing the others that it gave the rest of us a chance to escape.”
The woman reached over and touched George’s arm. “That may be true. Is it Mr. George?” she asked.
“Just George. I don’t use my last name.”
“Well, George, that may be true, but sometimes we mustface our fears and put our concerns aside until we have time to worry about them. If we make it, then it’ll be because of people like you who help us through this jungle.”
George opened his mouth as if he was going to say something, but instead he looked down at her arm and stared at it until she moved her hand. “And who in the hell are you?” he asked. “I ain’t seen you around before. And don’t patronize me, woman. Just because I say it like it is, doesn’t mean I’m gonna run off into this jungle and leave you, the brat, or anyone else to those fanatics. I may bitch, but don’t confuse my bitching with being afraid.”
The man leaned back against the seat, his face turned toward the open window. Branches from a nearby bush trapped against the side of the SUV freed themselves, swinging through the window across George’s face. Big George reached up and pushed the broad leaves outside and away from the vehicle. “This ain’t gonna be a good day,” George muttered, just loud enough for those inside the SUV to hear. He spit out the window a couple of times, clearing plant trash from his lips.
Silent minutes passed before Nathan worked his way back up the convoy, past their SUV.
“We have to keep going, Richard,” Nathan said as he walked by, leaning inside the window. “Just keep going. We’ll refuel later when we reach a more open area.”
“Nathan, this is farther than we came three months ago.”
Jamal’s uncle straightened, his chest even with the open driver’s window. Jamal couldn’t see Uncle Nathan’s head above the window, but he heard his reply. “I know. Back then, Richard, we were just seeing where the road led.”
“I think we both knew we would need a way out if something happened in Monrovia.”
Nathan patted the arm again. “Yes, I think we did. We just never said it. Now, we’re committed to what is becoming more of a foot trail than a road.”
“It’s an old logging road,” George said sharply, his head stuck partially out the window. “I’ve also heard it’s an old diamond mining road. It could be either, but I know that we’ve been using it to identify woods with export value. Just neverused it to haul them out because it wasn’t wide enough. Wish I had come farther down it.”
“So do I,” Uncle Nathan said. “So do I. Either way, we know we’re heading in the right direction and those ahead of us know we’re coming. It is the best we can do.”
Jamal watched as Uncle Nathan faced the huge man. What if this man reached out and grabbed his uncle Nathan? Jamal looked at his gun. He wondered if he would be able to shoot—
A scream pierced the jungle noise, startling everyone. Even Uncle Nathan whirled with his M-16 pointed toward the jungle.
“Relax,” Victoria said. “That’s just the red colobus—a long-tailed monkey. Lots of animals out here, and that won’t be the first we hear or see. This rain forest is also the home of the bongo antelope, and when we cross the Cestos River, which should be ahead of us, we may be lucky enough to see a pigmy hippopotamus.”
“I can hardly wait,” George said, shaking his head.
Uncle Nathan’s face appeared in the back window. His eyebrows bunched. “Hi, you’re new, aren’t you?”
“Victoria Pearl,” the woman replied, reaching forward to shake Nathan’s hand.
“Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Pearl. Didn’t realize we had a conservationist along with us.”
“Probably explains why we’ve hit it off so well,”
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