The four others dropped their packs and did as Holland instructed, spraying themselves down with insect repellent. Andy decided a third dousing couldn’t hurt and covered himself in the noxious spray as well. While the others busied themselves with their snake gaiters, Andy grabbed a pair of gloves, a machete, and a red nylon hammock bag. He pulled on the gloves, then trudged through ten meters of thick brush before spotting two trees that fit Holland’s description.

He dropped his pack, then slipped the bright-pink machete—Andy guessed they’d been spray-painted pink so they were more visible to anyone in the vicinity—from the leather scabbard. The machete was a foot and a half long with a slightly curved blade. It was lighter than Andy would have suspected, and he slashed away at the many different trees, ferns, vines, flowers, and leaves.

Thirty minutes later, Andy was putting the finishing touches on his hammock, when he was startled by a snap in the brush. He whipped his head around, expecting to see a large jaguar licking its lips, but it was Holland’s partner.

“How you faring, mate?” Ian Rixby asked, his accent more standard English than Holland’s regional brogue. Rix, as he liked to be called, was broad chested and had dark hair and heavy eyebrows. He was a few years younger than Holland and carried himself with the confidence of an MMA fighter.

Andy took a calming breath and said, “I think I’m almost done.”

Rix took a few steps closer. His nose wrinkled and he shook his head.

“What?” Andy asked, sniffing a few times himself. All he could smell was earth, flowers, and decay.

“Monkey piss.”

Andy sniffed again and realized under the thick smell of vegetation was the musky scent of urine.

“This is their tree,” Rix said, glancing upward into the tall canopy. “And unless you want to wake up each morning to piss hitting your tent, I recommend moving.”

Andy followed Rix’s gaze upward. He was surprised to see three black monkeys hanging from branches seventy feet above and starring down at them.

“Monkeys usually leave at the first sign of humans,” Rix said. “But this area is so remote and untouched, I’d be willing to bet these monkeys have never seen humans before.”

One of the monkey’s pulled a piece of red fruit from the tree and tossed it down at them. Soon they were being pelted with fruit.

Rix said, “And I should mention, the bastards are super territorial.”