They were a ruthless tribe hidden in the deepest recesses of the rainforest who, many years ago, had made a pact with the jungle spirits. They would protect it from all threats, and in return the jungle would give them dark powers. A few unlucky souls who had stumbled upon the tribe had been eaten—their heads removed, then hung from trees as trophies. And the lucky few who escaped, well, they weren’t so lucky after all, as the dark spirits of the Nsé-Eja would overpower their souls and turn them into cannibals themselves.

At which point, I had started in on my quite applicable Candyman story.

“You have to understand,” Andy said to me, putting a hand on Diego’s shoulder. “Myth and superstition are an important part of Latin American culture and history. This isn’t a legend to him. It’s as real as the Candyman was to you when you were eleven.” He pointed over his shoulder to where Juan Pablo and Carlos stood fifty feet away. “That’s why they won’t even come over to the tent. They’re afraid to even hear ‘Nsé-Eja,’ in case it upsets the spirits.”

At that utterance, Diego cringed slightly. Camila, who was holding onto his neck, gave a timid squeak.

Lieutenant Goytia, who I no longer suspected of having anything to do with Gina’s abduction, twitched his heavy mustache and said, “What Andy said is true. I heard this legend from my grandfather growing up. When I would do something wrong, he would tell me he was going to take me into the jungle and leave me for the Nsé-Eja.”

I nodded.

Part of me hoped Lieutenant Goytia would lend me a few of his soldiers to go after Gina, but I had no doubt that, much like Juan Pablo and Carlos, they wouldn’t dare sign on.

“Good luck,” Goytia said, extending his hand. “I hope you find her.” He turned on his heels and exited the tent.

From the chair where he was seated, Vern said, “You know I would come if I could.” He rubbed his right knee. “But I would only slow you down.”

“I know,” I told him.

And as for slowing me down, well, I wasn’t sure exactly how fast I was going to be able to move. I was feeling a click better than the previous day, but that wasn’t saying much, considering I’d been on my deathbed. Just walking from our campsite to the main camp was a struggle. And although my fever had abated and my joint pain was down to a manageable 8.4, Holland told me the virus was notorious for laying low for a few days before roaring back even stronger.

But I wasn’t letting anything stop me from finding Gina. Not the jungle, not dengue, not even fucking Thanos himself.