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Back The Last Christian
Chapters (58)
  1. Cover
  2. Other Books by This Author
  3. Title Page
  4. Copyright
  5. Dedication
  6. Acknowledgments
  7. Prologue
  8. 1
  9. 2
  10. 3
  11. 4
  12. 5
  13. 6
  14. 7
  15. 8
  16. 9
  17. 10
  18. 11
  19. 12
  20. 13
  21. 14
  22. 15
  23. 16
  24. 17
  25. 18
  26. 19
  27. 20
  28. 21
  29. 22
  30. 23
  31. 24
  32. 25
  33. 26
  34. 27
  35. 28
  36. 29
  37. 30
  38. 31
  39. 32
  40. 33
  41. 34
  42. 35
  43. 36
  44. 37
  45. 38
  46. 39
  47. 40
  48. 41
  49. 42
  50. 43
  51. 44
  52. 45
  53. 46
  54. 47
  55. 48
  56. 49
  57. 50
  58. Author’s Note

“I thought you came over to rescue me from the wolves, Hutch, not desert me.”

“Yeah, well, sometimes there are taps you have to answer.”

She reached out and touched his arm. “What is it?”

“My dad.”

“Is he sick?”

“He’s dead.”

Kate didn’t look right. She was dressed in pajamas and had a disheveled appearance.

“Kate, are you all right?”

“Hi, Abby. Good of you to tap. Yeah, I’m fine. Just feeling a little under the weather this morning.” She reached over and took a sip from a coffee cup. “I just need to wake up. So how are things in the States?”

Abby cleared her throat. “I’ve decided to come back to Papua New Guinea.”

“You have? So soon?”

“Yes. I suppose the truth is that things here haven’t worked out so well. My cousin Lauren is in the middle of her campaign, and her partner, Sabin”—she glanced at him across the living room—“he’s been great, but I don’t want to overstay my welcome. Mostly, I miss home. I miss the jungle.”

“I understand. You were brave to go to the States in the first place. I saw you on Global Sunrise.”

“You did?” Abby cringed.

“I thought you did great.”

“Thanks for saying that. Not everyone here agrees.”

“That’s too bad. Well, I’d be glad to host you here as long as you like. It’s not the jungle, but it’s close to it.” She reached over to put her cup down but missed the table and spilled coffee on the floor. “Crap.” She grabbed a cloth to wipe it up. “That’s the second time this morning.” She turned to the visiscreen. “So have you made arrangements to fly back?”

“Sabin is checking on flights. Does Thursday next week work for you? In the evening?”

“Yes, that’s fine. Let me have my Grid interface put this down. You said you’d arrive…what day?”

Abby raised her brows and repeated herself. “Thursday.”

“In the morning or at night?”

“In the evening. Kate, are you sure you’re all right?”

“I’m just feeling a bit discombobulated.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to bother you when you’re not feeling well, but have you found out anything about the disease?”

Kate looked confused for a moment. “Oh yeah. The disease. It’s not a jungle disease. We think the village died of an infestation of nanites—that’s miniature robots. They ate away at the brains, we think.”

Abby held her hand to her mouth and stared in disbelief at the visiscreen. Miraba and the villagers had their brains eaten away? “But how…” She felt tears welling in her eyes.