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Back Jungle Up Save as PDF
Chapters (63)
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  63. Author’s Note

Presently, Gina watched as Patrick and Martin halted just feet from the base of the pyramid. Patrick pointed and said, “You’re telling me that you’ve never seen this pyramid before?”

Martin shook his head. “I think I would remember a pyramid in the middle of the jungle.”

“You took a picture of this. It was in your book.”

“I don’t remember writing any book.”

Patrick closed his eyes and grunted. Glancing in Gina’s direction, he said, “How does he remember everything before 1982 and everything that happened the last two days, but he doesn’t remember anything in between?”

Gina stood and stepped toward the pair. “He’s suffered severe trauma to his temporal lobe, which is one of the memory centers. His short-term memory appears to be fine. But those long-term memories that appear to be lost, they could return in a few days, a few weeks, a few months, or a few years.” Then she added, “Or they could be lost forever.”

“I wish I could help you find this tribe,” Martin said, “but I don’t remember any of this.”

“Not even the golden jaguar?”

“No, uh, I don’t.”

Gina, who grew up playing poker with her father, noticed the small wrinkle of Martin’s nose before he said the words.

Patrick noticed it as well.

“You do remember!” Patrick screeched.

“I don’t!”

Patrick gripped Martin’s head behind his ears and pressed his thumb into the healing wound.

Martin screamed.

“What year is it?” Patrick shouted.

“1982!”

“WHAT . . . YEAR . . . IS . . . IT?” Patrick repeated, grinding his thumb even deeper.

Martin wailed against the pain, then finally, he uttered the correct year.

“I knew it!” Patrick said, smirking. “Now, I will ask again, do you remember seeing this pyramid?”

“Yes,” Martin whimpered.

“Do you know how to get to the Nsé-Eja tribe?”

The ethnobotanist didn’t respond.

Patrick gritted his teeth and dug his nail into the now open wound. Blood cascaded over Patrick’s fingers and ran down onto Martin’s ear.

Martin could no longer stomach the pain. “Yes!” he cried. “Yes, I do.”

≈

They had been following Martin through the jungle for nearly three days.

Gina kept looking for opportunities for her and Martin to escape, but none arose. Patrick was being cautious. Both she and Martin had a soldier in front and in back of them at all times. And at night, her tent was zip-tied closed and her ankles shackled together with military zip cuffs.

Gina was still very much a captive. And now that Martin was alive and well, Gina’s life was even more at risk. What reason did Patrick have to keep her alive? She’d outlived her usefulness.

“Where the hell are we?” asked Patrick Sewall. “In your book, you say it’s two days’ travel from the pyramid.”