BooksBarbecue
Back The Preserve
Chapters (56)
  1. Front Cover
  2. Half-Title Page
  3. Title Page
  4. Copyright Page
  5. AUTHOR’S NOTE
  6. 1.
  7. 2.
  8. 3.
  9. 4.
  10. 5.
  11. 6.
  12. 7.
  13. 8.
  14. 9.
  15. 10.
  16. 11.
  17. 12.
  18. 13.
  19. 14.
  20. 15.
  21. 16.
  22. 17.
  23. 18.
  24. 19.
  25. 20.
  26. 21.
  27. 22.
  28. 23.
  29. 24.
  30. 25.
  31. 26.
  32. 27.
  33. 28.
  34. 29.
  35. 30.
  36. 31.
  37. 32.
  38. 33.
  39. 34.
  40. 35.
  41. 36.
  42. 37.
  43. 38.
  44. 39.
  45. 40.
  46. 41.
  47. 42.
  48. 43.
  49. 44.
  50. 45.
  51. 46.
  52. 47.
  53. 48.
  54. EPILOGUE
  55. AFTERWORD
  56. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

At one point he heard a series of rustles up in the higher stories of jungle around them, but one of the Filipino helpers just laughed—and told him those were only monkeys.

***

They gave Lett a pup tent to himself. He had the first few dark hours off so he could catch up on sleep finally. They were going to hit the road first thing. At first Lett couldn’t sleep. He kept thinking about his still-unloaded M1, lying next to him. He could hear Lansdale and Frankie and the rest in their top-notch command tent, sometimes laughing, sometimes boasting, though he couldn’t make out the words.

Lett realized he was alone for the first time in a good while. He lay there. Soon his head turned hot and his sinuses swelled like from instant hay fever. Then the heat moved to his chest and gut.

It was Lansdale there. Inside him. Growing, distending.

His bad feeling about Lansdale was more than just a sense, he knew. It was stark reality. This third stage of his treatment was confirming it. Lansdale had helped him at first, with stages one and two. Sure he had. But the man wasn’t just ambitious, with a dominating demeanor. Lett had seen his share of those types both on and off the front line. No, this was different. He’d just witnessed Lansdale order the torture and execution of a helpless human being—and grin about it.

The stark new reality was more than just a breaking sun above the horizon, casting its rays. More than full sunlight. It was the bright and glaring white of floodlights right before an overwhelming surprise assault, blinding Lett alone in his forward-operating foxhole.

The truth of such a stark white shock? He was already a dead man if he didn’t act.

Lett pulled his bedroll over him, up to his chin like a boy sleeping outside for the first time. He more than mistrusted Lansdale, he now realized. He feared him. He feared the very man who was giving him his cure.

He was sweating, but it cooled. Eventually, he dozed off.

Later, he dreamt. Some would call it a nightmare, but to Lett it was the dream he’d always had, the one that woke him alone in his Kona Town billet room and then in Kanani’s borrowed bungalow down on Alii Drive . . .