Milton was guided into the back of the vehicle, almost tripping over the sill. He shuffled around a little so that he could avoid leaning his weight against his arms. He heard the sound of the driver clambering aboard and then felt the suspension jolt as another man got into the back and sat alongside him. Milton felt something hard against his ribs.

“You do anything that makes me feel even a little bit jumpy,” the man said, “and I’ll put a bullet in you. You’re coming with us. It doesn’t matter whether it’s dead or alive. I’ll leave that up to you.”

“I’ll be honest,” Milton said. “I’d prefer alive.”

“So shut up and do as you’re told.”

He slapped his hand against the back of the driver’s seat and the Land Rover grumbled as the engine turned over. The driver released the handbrake and touched the gas. The vehicle bounced over the rough ground as they started on their way.

The hood made it impossible to see anything. Just as he’d done during his earlier trip into the jungle, Milton tried to listen for anything that might give him an idea of where he was being taken, but again, it was difficult. The Land Rover’s engine was loud and, behind that, he occasionally caught the sound of the nocturnal birds and animals that were disturbed by its passage: the screech of an owl, the cries of capybara and the howling of a distant jaguar.

“Where are we going?”

The man next to him elbowed him in the side. Milton gasped.

“Shut your mouth. I don’t want to hear a word out of you, buddy. Not a single word.”

* * *

Milton guessed it was an hour before the rough, uneven track was replaced by a smoother surface. They continued on the new road for another few minutes before Milton felt the Land Rover slow down. The suspension bounced a little as they crossed over another rougher patch of ground, and then the brakes squeaked as the vehicle came to a stop.

The door opened and Milton felt the man to his left getting out.

“Geddown, bud.”