Dangerous Journey (19 page)

It seemed an eternity before they reached the area where she and Darius had lunch, their backpacks and thermos lying on the ground. She collapsed on the backpack, pointing in the direction the others had to go. Hank stayed with her as the others continued forward.

She lay on the ground, bathed in her own perspiration, her limbs trembling uncontrollably from the agony her muscles had endured. She buried her face in her arms.

It was too quiet. The thought screamed at her. Too quiet! Where was everyone? She struggled to her feet, her legs so rubbery they could scarcely hold her. “Darius? We’ve got to help him. Where is he?”

“Whoa there, little lady.” Hank captured her by the waist and held her back as she tried to hurl herself in the direction the men had gone. “They’ll find your boyfriend. You sit tight now, you hear?”

Her legs buckled, and she fell to the ground again. They waited for a half hour, forty-five minutes, an hour. She couldn’t bear it any longer and began to get up, but her muscles had stiffened so badly that she barely could stand.

“They can’t find him, Hank,” she said, her voice tiny and scared; it sounded to her like that of a child. “I’ve got to help. I’ll find him.”

“Now, why don’t we wait here? It’ll be okay, I’m sure.”

“I can’t. He needs me.” She brought her hands to her cheeks. “I can’t just sit here. God, where is he?”

“He’s all right, I’m sure. We haven’t had any trouble around here in a few years.” Hank’s voice was comforting; it made C.J. want to believe whatever he told her. “We’ll go, but slowly.”

He took her arm, and they walked toward the spot where she had left Darius. They found the boulder where she had last seen him, but there was no sign of him. She had no idea which way to turn.

“Maybe he got away and doubled back toward the village,” Hank suggested. “He might be there right now, sitting and waiting for us.”

“Do you think so?” she asked with hope.

“Why sure. Since he had a gun and they didn’t, the odds are on his side. I know he’s okay. That’s a man who can take care of himself.”

C.J. smiled at him, filled with gratitude for his encouragement.

They walked deeper into the jungle. Soon, they heard the other men talking and heading their way.

C.J. stopped. Hank took her arm.

Then they appeared: John, Kaloo and the other villagers. That was all. Her eyes went to Kaloo, to the rifle he carried. The blood drained from her face. It was Darius’s.

She looked at the men, but they turned away. They couldn’t meet her eyes.

She stared at the gun. “Where is he?” she whispered.

“We couldn’t find him,” Kaloo replied.

Hank held her as if afraid she might faint. But she wasn’t that weak. “I’ll find him!” she said, taking a step.

Hank’s hold on her arm tightened, and he held her back. “We’ll send a search party out.”

“Let go of me!” She yanked her arm free and stumbled away from him. She nearly fell; her body drained. She took another step and stopped, swaying, unable to force herself onward. This isn’t real, she thought. It isn’t happening.

“I couldn’t get here in time,” she cried. “I failed him. After all he did to help me, I failed.” Tears fell down her cheeks as a searing pain tore through her heart. She threw her head back and looked heavenward. Her eyes caught the green leaves of the treetops in the light of the sun.

They were forcing her away, forcing her back toward the village. “Please stop,” she whispered. “We can’t go back to the village. There may still be time. We’ve got to find him.”

“John and Kaloo and some others are out there searching. It’s growing late. If they have no luck, tomorrow we’ll put together a big search party. We’ll find him. I promise, Miss Perkins,” Hank said gently.

She moved along mutely, Hank and Tony each holding one of her arms. There was nothing left to say.

Back at the mission, Zachariah, who had had some medical training, gave her a powerful tranquilizer, and she sank into oblivion.

Chapter 17

She awakened to a small candle lighting the room. She looked around, trying to think through the heavy fog that enveloped her brain. She felt alone, more alone than ever before in her life, consumed by a terrible, all-encompassing emptiness. Then she remembered that there was someone, a place of shelter. She struggled to reach him, but something, someone, held holding her back, refused to allow her to go on.

“Darius!” she murmured. He would come to her; he would save her, just as he had so many times in the past. She would never have to worry again; she would always be safe with him. “Darius!” The name became a sob.

In the foggy haze her world had become, she felt someone holding her down, softly speaking words she didn’t understand, forcing a bitter liquid down her throat. She coughed and sputtered. Then all went black, and the pain stopped.

The next time she opened her eyes, sunlight was shining through the doorway of the bungalow.

Hank stood beside her. “Hello, there,” he said, his voice soft and gentle.

“Hank,” she whispered. She tried to sit up, only to find her whole body throbbed painfully. Then she remembered, and her eyes shut again. She was too frightened to ask what she needed to know. Too frightened of what the answer might be. Instead, she whispered, “What time is it?”

“Seven o’clock…in the morning. We gave you some medicine to help you sleep.”

She let the words sink in. He said nothing about Darius. If the news was good, he would have told her. She knew without asking, but couldn’t stop herself. “Did...”

“No.” It was more like a groan than a word.

She shut her eyes, and, silently, her tears fell.

They brought her food. Broth was the only nourishment she could get past her lips. She didn’t want to move, to eat, to face reality.

The next morning the sun was bright. She dressed and left the longhouse. Her eyes were so swollen and sore from tears they could barely function. Then she saw the jungle, an ever-present, living, fearful entity.

She walked away from the longhouses. She had no tears left to shed. Why had it happened? She asked that question over and over. Why?

The large search party Hank had gathered returned the previous night. They had found no sign of Darius, but there was a rumor in some of the northern villages that a white man had been killed. Hank assured C.J. that it was just a rumor.

She stayed three more days. Another search party went out, but returned with no more luck than the first.

She despised Bir Sakan and everything about it. At the same time, she had memories of two days there with Darius that she would treasure the rest of her life. The people were kind, casting her glances filled with pity. But she didn’t want their friendship or their pity. There was only one person whose company she wanted, and this place had taken him from her.

John Carter was the only one who didn’t offer her pity. His eyes were always on her, watching her every move. She didn’t care, and usually ignored him.

One afternoon he walked up beside her as she sat alone in the sun, sipping a cool drink and watching some children playing a few feet away. “It’s a pretty good gig, C.J.”

She looked up at him, shielding her eyes with her arm, not having any idea what he was talking about.

“You and your friend,” he continued. “Clever. They told me you were.”

What was he talking about? Her clever friend. Darius, The familiar desolation swept over her. “Yes, Darius was clever. Clever and wonderful. John, I...” She stopped, her voice deserting her, and leaned back in her chair, then turned silently to face the jungle.

He gave her a curious look, then rubbed his chin and walked away. He said nothing more to her.

On the fifth day after Darius’s disappearance, a charter plane flew into Bir Sakan to pick her up. She had already packed up Alan’s few belongings into two cardboard boxes and mailed them to her parents’ house. She also packed Darius’ and her suitcases. Remembering their time in Singapore, buying the clothes to take with them, made the packing of them one of the hardest things she ever had to do.

Much to her surprise, John Carter insisted on accompanying her to Kuching. He said she was in no condition to travel alone. Hank had radioed information about Darius’s disappearance to the Sarawak government, and a formal statement had to be filed. Carter offered to make the statement and answer any official questions.

The charter flight took them to Kuching, where it took over three hours for C.J. and Carter to pass on about fifteen minutes’ worth of information. She was exhausted and miserable when the ordeal ended.

Rather than remain overnight in Sarawak waiting for the next afternoon’s Malaysian Airline System flight to Kota Kinabalu in Sabah, Carter hired another charter for that afternoon.

Again, he insisted on accompanying her. She could understand him wanting to clear up Darius’s disappearance with the Sarawak government, but his decision to go all the way to the province of Sabah was too much. She neither needed nor wanted his company. A fleeting thought that he was following her flickered through her mind, but then was lost, leaving only a small residue of annoyance at his nearness.

In Kota Kinabalu she learned that there would be a flight to Hong Kong the next afternoon. Carter got them adjacent rooms in a small hotel and took her to dinner.

She hardly tasted her meal; all she wanted was to go back to her room and be left alone. The next morning he escorted her to a late breakfast and then the airport.

Not until she was on the plane to Hong Kong, finally out of his view, did she fully realize how stifling he had been, how closely he had inspected her every word and gesture. She was glad to be alone.

From the plane, she gazed down at the South China Sea, glad she had decided to fly directly to Hong Kong from Sabah. She hadn’t had the heart to take the more popular route, through Singapore.

She never wanted to see Singapore again. She didn’t want to do anything but go home and forget all about Asia. She hated it here. But she couldn’t go home quite yet. There was one more stop she had to make. She had to see Jimmy Lee and tell him, in person, what had happened.

She owed that much to him—and to Darius.

Her heart skipped a beat as she caught her first glimpse of Hong Kong. It was beautiful, alive. It seemed Darius should be down there somewhere.

She caught a taxi outside the airport and gave the driver Jimmy’s address on the Peak. She hadn’t even thought about going to a hotel first, only that she needed to see Jimmy. Slowly, the taxi fought its way through the traffic of Kowloon, then through the Cross Harbour Tunnel to Hong Kong Island. C.J. realized why Darius had preferred to take the tram as her taxi zig-zagged up the narrow, steep streets to the top of the Peak.

But Darius would never take the tram again. Would the pain always be so sharp? Would everything remind her so vividly of him?

When the taxi stopped she looked up and saw the large white house. As she handed the driver some money, she caught a glimpse of herself in his rearview mirror and realized that Jimmy would know what was wrong just by looking at her. Her cheeks were hollow, and the skin under her eyes was a deep gray. There was no color to her face at all. Even her hair lay tangled and loose about her shoulders.

She got out of the cab, picked up her luggage and walked to Jimmy’s front gate. She rang the bell. The butler, who recognized her immediately, was clearly shocked at her appearance. He took her suitcase and led her into the living room. As she sat on the sofa, he asked if she wanted something cold to drink. She just shook her head, and he left quickly.

At the sound of the hurried clicking of Jimmy’s shoes on the hardwood floors, she stood and faced him.

He stopped, his expression immobile as he studied her.

She needed to speak, but no words would come.

“What is it?” He reached for her arm and gripped it tightly, his face strained.

She blinked and looked away. He released her arm, and, as if his legs could no longer support him, sat down on the sofa.

“Tell me what happened.” His voice was gentle, yet resigned, as if this were something he had been expecting.

She sat beside him. “We went to Sarawak to find the White Dragon,” she began, then slowly, painfully, told him the whole story. When she finished, they sat in silence for a long time.

Jimmy clasped his hands, not moving, not looking at her. Finally he spoke, his voice strained, desperate. “I don’t believe it. Darius knows how to take care of himself.”

C.J. looked at him and shook her head. “Jimmy, I was there.”

“I’ll send a search party. Professionals. Not some villagers, do gooders and churchmen who probably couldn’t find the Empire State Building if they were dropped in the middle of New York City.”

She couldn’t say anything, and fought against her tears.

He smashed his fist on the coffee table. She jumped at the sound. “I won’t sit here and do nothing!” he shouted. The look he gave her was terrible.

He got up and stormed from the room.

She sat there until her heart stopped racing.
I’m so sorry Jimmy. So very sorry.
Darius had said they were like brothers.

She walked to the front door and picked up her suitcase.

“C.J.” She heard Jimmy’s choked voice behind her as she put her hand on the doorknob. She turned around.

“Please stay.” He stood at the top of the landing, peering down at her. “For a little while, at least. Wait with me for word. We’ll find him; I know we will.”

She shook her head. “It’s my fault, all of this. He went there because of me. I should just leave.”

“No, C.J. Have more faith in him. I think that if Darius had a choice, he’d want you to be here. To wait, and not give up. Please…stay a while. Wait with me.”

She raised her eyes.

“You’re the only woman he ever brought to this house, C.J. That means a lot to me. I hope it does to you, too.”

His words surprised her. She nodded. She was unable to speak, to argue with Jimmy, and she put down her suitcase. As much as she believed waiting would be fruitless, she couldn’t resist the small grain of hope he offered.