Contents ( 49)
- PROLOGUE
- ONE
- TWO
- THREE
- FOUR
- FIVE
- SIX
- SEVEN
- EIGHT
- NINE
- TEN
- ELEVEN
- TWELVE
- THIRTEEN
- FOURTEEN
- FIFTEEN
- SIXTEEN
- SEVENTEEN
- EIGHTEEN
- NINETEEN
- TWENTY
- TWENTY-ONE
- TWENTY-TWO
- TWENTY-THREE
- TWENTY-FOUR
- TWENTY-FIVE
- TWENTY-SIX
- TWENTY-SEVEN
- TWENTY-EIGHT
- TWENTY-NINE
- THIRTY
- THIRTY-ONE
- THIRTY-TWO
- THIRTY-THREE
- THIRTY-FOUR
- THIRTY-FIVE
- THIRTY-SIX
- THIRTY-SEVEN
- THIRTY-EIGHT
- THIRTY-NINE
- FORTY
- FORTY-ONE
- FORTY-TWO
- FORTY-THREE
- FORTY-FOUR
- FORTY-FIVE
- EPILOGUE
- ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
- ABOUT THE AUTHOR
“I’m going to cross.” Franz turned toward the water and hiked the monkey higher on his wide shoulders. “We’re losing them.”
Omar leapt at Franz. He wrenched the monkey by its tail from Franz’s grip and spun in a circle, launching the poor creature across the water to its very center, the darkest part. Before Franz could acknowledge this offense, the water began to boil, the piranha so thick they leapt out of the water and banged into each other before falling back in, pieces of monkey flesh in their sawlike teeth. Bits of fur popped to the surface, floating with the current; soon the skull rose white, grinning and bobbing.
In minutes, the men had cut down two trees, each only a few inches in diameter, and laid them across the river. Franz crossed first; the dogs skittered along behind him. The rest of the men casually forded the narrow bridge, all the while joking about what would happen if they fell; their balance remarkable. I hazarded a few steps out in my rotting sneakers, froze, swaying, my body heavy in all sorts of new places. The men shook their heads, impatient; not only a woman on the hunt, but a pregnant one, holding up everything. I turned back to the shore.
Omar cut down another tree, laid it between the two, then cut down two more slender ones, sharpening the ends to use as walking sticks. He walked back to me on the sapling bridge, demonstrating their use. For each step, he methodically stabbed one down to the muddy bottom while pulling the other free, till he reached me.
“I can’t do it, Omar. I just can’t.” Sweat dripped down my shoulder and spine, burning into the bites that never seemed to heal. Of course I couldn’t go back into the jungle by myself, but I also couldn’t go forward.
He said, “Lily, you need to get down on your hands and knees. Go as slow as you need to. Don’t listen to the men. They’re being idiots. Listen to me. Listen to your strong self, the one who’s gotten you this far, the one who’s not afraid of this place. I’ll be right here in front of you. I won’t let you fall. Understand?”
I nodded. Quaking, I got down to my hands and knees, centering my body weight in the middle of the bridge. Clutching the slender trees, knees aching, I crawled toward him inches at a time, never taking my eyes off the water that still churned beneath us with snapping silver fish that moved as if shot from a gun, wild with the taste of blood.
TWENTY-SIX
We stepped back into the steaming jungle. The reek of peccary all around us, a skunky musk. The strongest dog of the pack, who had to have some husky in her of all things, sprung into the air, straining her lead, finally snapping it. After a moment of confusion, the dog’s eyes wild—how could freedom be suddenly possible?—she bounded off. The others, still tethered to each other, followed in an ecstasy of liberation. The men, all except Omar, turned and ran after them.