The Clearing by Dan Newman Page B

it ran down a gentle slope and through a small river. Once clear of the water, they trundled up again, into a steep grade in the land that peaked in a crest where a series of rickety shacks stood clustered among coconut trees set on shortly cropped grasses. There was an even more welcoming sense of open space here, and while the green mass was still there at the edges, somehow the little huts and the people milling around them made it all feel something akin to normal.
    Among the ramshackle buildings a handful of women were hard at work, the color of polished mahogany and glistening with sweat, carrying loads balanced precariously on their heads in brightly colored plastic bowls. They turned in measured, careful steps, waved unenthusiastically at the Land Rover and the group within it, then went back to their work. Vincent nodded on their direction and the boys, save Tristan, waved back.
    The Land Rover passed the little village of huts and turned right onto a track that was much more serviceable, almost a road in its own right. They picked up speed through the coconut grove, and Vincent pointed a well-muscled arm off to the right. “Swamps are over there. Stay away. All of you – and I’m not kidding.”
    The boys all turned and looked. At the far end of the grove, Nate could see a different kind of denseness, a thicker green than that from which they had recently emerged. This was much darker, blacker. From the track they could see the confusion of mangrove trees, an intertwined labyrinth of roots the size of scaffolding tubes, each jostling for position and overlapping as they disappeared into the bog below. The tangle was so thick it was impossible to see past the first flourish of mangrove, and as the Land Rover passed out of the grove Nate was instinctively glad to leave the swamp far behind.
    â€œThat place is creepy looking,” said Pip, clearly voicing everyone’s thoughts.
    â€œAnd it’s out of bounds,” added Tristan.
    Pip and Nate locked eyes. Nate couldn’t tell if Tristan was serious or just adding to the drama, and again it was Pip who spoke up. “How come?”
    â€œPip, it’s a swamp, it’s dangerous.” Tristan’s tone was flippant. “Besides, if my dad says stay away, you stay away, got it?”
    â€œYeah, sure, but...” Pip’s comment was lost as the pitch of the engine changed and the Land Rover braked hard.
    Vincent let the engine die. He threw his arm over the passenger’s seat, and twisted to face the boys in the back. He looked at them over the top of a pair of beaten old sunglasses, his brow furrowed and uncharacteristically serious. His face was weathered and deeply lined, and his hair was sun-bleached to a sandy blonde and cropped short around his face.
    â€œYou guys already know the rules up here,” he began, pointing at Tristan and Richard. “But you two – Pip, Nate – you boys need to listen carefully. This is a great place for exploring, running around, the minibikes, all of that. And I want you to enjoy it. But there are things you need be careful of here, too. It can be dangerous. So if I tell you something is out of bounds, it’s out of bounds. Understand?”
    â€œLike the swamp,” added Tristan.
    â€œLike the swamp,” agreed Vincent, pointing at his son in acknowledgment. He turned back to Pip and Nate. “There’s also rules around daylight. When the sun goes down, you all need to be back in the house.”
    Pip’s eyes widened. “It’s nothing like that,” said Vincent, smiling at last. “There’re no vampires here... It’s just that there’s no electricity this far into the bush, just a small generator for the one room where we sleep. Ti Fenwe is a big estate, and it’s easy to get turned around if you’re caught out in the darkness, so we have a daylight curfew: everyone in by nightfall. Got it?”
    â€œGot it,”