BooksBarbecue
Back Jungle Up Save as PDF
Chapters (63)
  1. 1
  2. 2
  3. 3
  4. 4
  5. 5
  6. 6
  7. 7
  8. 8
  9. 9
  10. 10
  11. 11
  12. 12
  13. 13
  14. 14
  15. 15
  16. 16
  17. 17
  18. 18
  19. 19
  20. 20
  21. 21
  22. 22
  23. 23
  24. 24
  25. 25
  26. 26
  27. 27
  28. 28
  29. 29
  30. 30
  31. 31
  32. 32
  33. 33
  34. 34
  35. 35
  36. 36
  37. 37
  38. 38
  39. 39
  40. 40
  41. 41
  42. 42
  43. 43
  44. 44
  45. 45
  46. 46
  47. 47
  48. 48
  49. 49
  50. 50
  51. 51
  52. 52
  53. 53
  54. 54
  55. 55
  56. 56
  57. 57
  58. 58
  59. 59
  60. 60
  61. 61
  62. 62
  63. Author’s Note

Farah glanced over both shoulders, then she picked her phone up off the ground. She tapped on it a few times, then turned it toward Andy.

It was an audio recording.

“. . . you doing here?” Farah said on the recording.

“Oh, like you don’t know,” said Jonathan Roth.

Farah: “No, I don’t know, and I don’t feel comfortable with you unzipping my tent in the middle of the night.”

Roth: “What was all that talk before, about making a film together in Egypt. Come on, we both know what’s going on here.”

Farah: “Listen, I think a documentary about my government’s unfair prosecution of journalists would be great. And nothing is going on here. I told you when you walked me to my hotel room in La Paz that I wasn’t interested.”

Roth: “Yeah, well, your eyes are saying something different.”

Farah: “Well, my eyes right now are saying ‘Get the fuck out of my tent.’ ”

Roth: “There’s the fire I like.”

Farah: “Seriously, get out.”

Roth: [Laughs] “Or what?”

There was a second and a half of silence. Andy locked eyes with Farah. His heart was beating nearly as fast as when he was on the helicopter.

Roth: “We’re both adults. Can’t we come to an understanding?”

Farah: “I, um—”

Roth: “Don’t you want that film made? I can make it happen. Two phone calls. That’s all it takes.”

Farah: “Can you . . . Do not touch me!”

Roth: “Relax.”

Farah blew her whistle: TWEEEEEEEEEEEE! TWEEEEEEE­EEEEEEEEEE!

Roth: What are you— Stop! Stop! . . . I’m leavi—

Farah: TWEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

A few moments later, Holland could be heard saying, “What happened?”

Farah: “A fer-de-lance.”

Farah hit stop.

“I’m so sorry,” Andy said. “Why didn’t you say anything? You could have told Holland or Rix.”

“I could have, but I’m telling you.”

Andy balled his hands into fists and said, “Right . . . Okay, okay . . . Where is he?” He reached down and picked up the small trowel.

Farah grabbed him by the shirt. “Slow down, Rambo. I don’t want you to do anything. I just wanted to, you know, tell someone.”

Andy glanced at Farah’s left hand, the one not holding his shirt. Her fingers were dancing up and down, as if on an invisible keyboard.

36

36

base camp
august 20, 5:28 p.m.
expedition: day 7

When the expedition team arrived back at base camp, they found it empty.

“Where is everybody?” Nathan Buxton asked, gazing around.

Lieutenant Goytia and the Bolivian soldiers had stayed behind to go hunting, and there was a good chance Holland and Rix had yet to return from their reconnaissance of T5, but where were the others? Where were Vern, Juan Pablo, Carlos? And where the hell was Thomas?

Andy glanced toward the white tent where Thomas had been lying that morning.

Had he made a miracle recovery? Had he and the others packed up and left?

“Look what I found.”

Andy turned.