Primitive Nights (32 page)

Something had changed in him since the previous evening. He’d taken a shower while she’d sent off the e-mails to set her plan into action. When he’d come out, smiling and dripping wet, she’d been unable to keep her hands from him. They’d laughed about his freezing skin, and she’d shown him how to make the water warm.

Then, she’d warmed him herself, taking great pleasure in discovering every clean patch of skin until he had trembled beneath her. His lovemaking had been consuming, powerful and she’d drifted to sleep wrapped tight in his arms. All had been well.

With the morning, his mood had changed, and as yet, she saw no chance of it returning to the happiness of the night before. She knew he worried about his people and had tried to explain what she had done. The e-mails she’d sent to several officials with the list of names might not make a bit of difference, but the information she had forwarded on to Mr. Harrison might help him to prove that InterCorp employees were stealing from the company. A fact the president of the corporation knew, and was doing nothing about.

She also knew she couldn’t count solely on Harrison. The other e-mails she’d sent would be her insurance. If those e-mails were received in time for Harrison to make his announcement, John would be finished.

She was counting on it.

A large grove appeared at the base of the mountain pass they traveled through. At the far corner, several large white tents were erected and the E.I. insignia flashed brilliant from the top. She pointed. “Look, Damon.”

He followed her direction and his whole body stiffened. “Is this my new home?”

Myla nodded, a sense of the sadness he must feel worming its way into her heart. It was for the best, there was no doubt. To have such an independent people thrust into a new area, with all the strangers milling about giving shots and checking teeth, she was certain it would take time for the tribe to adjust.

She reached out to hold his hand. “It won’t be like this for long. I promise. We will leave as soon as the doctors make sure everyone is well. Then your life can continue as it always was.”

“As it was—” he didn’t take his eyes from the scene as they neared, “—without you.”

Seiret rubbed at his arm as he approached. “These people enjoy sticking things into my arm too much, I think.”

Damon sighed with relief. No one else had become sick since he and Myla had left. “You did well, friend. I owe you a great debt.”

“You can repay me by letting me stick one of the healers.”

Damon clapped his friend on the shoulder. “You will need to tolerate them for a bit longer. My mother is well?”

Seiret scowled. “Better than well. She is bossing everyone around.” He pointed to the farthest tent. “She is in there trying to convince Oruminoch that the needle will not kill him.”

This he had to see. “Seiret, I will go to her. But tell me—how many lost?”

“Sixty-two.”

Damon’s chest tightened. So many. “The elders?”

“Two remain.”

A new council would have to be created. It was a sad day. “What news of the Hountas and Iljibra’s tribe to the west?”

“The Hountas were decimated. Very few remain, though Laylika has vowed to convince those left to travel here. We will see what she can accomplish. Iljibra has not suffered any loss.”

That was something. “Good. Laylika will do as she says. She trusts Myla and will do what is best for her people.”

As if on cue, the loud murmur of voices came from the other end of the encampment. From the trees, like lost souls, the Hountas’ painted gray bodies walked out into the opening. Damon rushed forward to help carry the ill to tents. A flurry of men and women in medical clothing took over and soon, every sick Hounta was placed for care.

Laylika walked over, her eyes bright with hope. “We left several behind. They chose not to come.”

Damon squeezed her shoulder. “Your father?”

She shook her head and he saw the sadness in her gaze. To her credit, her shoulders stayed tall. “He was taken by this illness. He is at peace now.”

“Please rest. There is much I must do, but we will speak later.”

She smiled and walked to the tents. She would remain strong for her people, make a good leader.

Damon turned to find Seiret still standing at his shoulder. Something about the way his friend stood set his senses on edge. “What bothers you?”

Seiret looked away briefly. “There is—more I must tell you.”

His friend’s silence told him it was something he would not like. “Seiret?”

“Tinjtol is here.”

Damon gripped his fists at his sides. “Where?”

Seiret pointed to a smaller tent behind them, and Damon strode off without another word. The tent was dark as he entered. Several cots lay vacant by the door, but farther back five more had people lying on them.

A young woman with a mask on her face stopped him. “You can’t come in here.”

Damon brushed past her. Tinjtol lay on the farthest cot, and Damon stood over him. He was ill. “Why have you returned, Tinjtol?”

He tried to ignore the mottled appearance of his brother’s face. His lips were swollen and cracked, his eyelids so puffy Damon could barely see his eyes. Dark bruises marred his skin in purple blotches.

Tinjtol turned his head to the side, his voice so thin Damon had to kneel to hear him. “You destroyed our people, brother.”

The simple words resonated through Damon’s mind. There was little he could say to that. Had he not blamed himself already? “This is your only reason for returning? You came to tell me my way was wrong?”

His head moved slowly from side to side. “No. I have done the harm as well.”

Tinjtol blinked rapidly, and Damon feared he would lose consciousness. “What, Tinjtol. What have you done?”

“They beat me, brother.” He looked away. “Until I told them where you were.”

Damon stood, heart racing. Numerous people milled around. The masks covering their faces made it difficult to distinguish one from another. If John knew where they were…

Grabbing the arm of the first person who walked by, he pointed to Tinjtol. “What is wrong with him?”

The woman tried to pull away, her eyes wide with fear over her mask. “Let me go.”

When he did, she rushed away.

Damon pressed a hand to Tinjtol’s heart. It beat steady beneath his palm. “Will you die?”

He nodded, a small grimace creasing his lips. “I do not understand your people’s language, Maglayo. But this is what I feel.”

“I will come back.”

Tinjtol turned away. “You owe me nothing. But I would have you help Laylika. I should not ask for more. But she… She is not as strong as she thinks.”

With a silent affirmation, Damon left the tent. He had to find Myla.

Michelle laughed. “Even the most formidable can be felled by nothing more than the sharp end of the needle.”

Oruminoch closed his eyes and let out a loud yowl as the needle sank into his arm. The old man glanced at Myla, rubbing his arm like a child, and she stifled a laugh. Men were such babies, no matter the nationality. She looked at the nurse. “Did you bring the lollipops?”

Michelle snorted as the nurse took the wrapper off a bright orange lollipop and forced it between the man’s gums. His initial instinct to fight disappeared immediately. He pulled the end of the lollipop from his mouth and turned it several times before popping it back in.

A huge smile revealed his utter lack of teeth, and Myla allowed that was more than she needed to see. “Michelle, you should rest.”

Damon’s mother pushed up from her stool and brushed her dress into place. “Do not worry about me. Another truck will arrive in less than an hour and that should be the last of it.”

Myla rubbed at the muscles in her neck. “Do you know where Damon is?”

“I don’t know. Last I saw him, he was with Seiret headed down to the river.”

Myla walked out of the tent into the bright midday sun. She shaded her eyes with a hand. So many people.

It had taken less than a day for everyone to get past the initial fear. There was still some lingering skepticism in the eyes of some of the tribe members, especially the older ones, but for the most part everyone seemed to be working together.

The river was a few hundred yards through the trees, and she needed a break. Maybe, if Damon was still there, she could steal a few minutes alone with him in the chaos of the day. They hadn’t spoken of when she would leave, and she wasn’t certain when that would be. Staying until the aid workers left as well seemed the best option, but the longer she remained, the harder it was going to be to walk away.

Maybe now was the best time. With the construction of new homes and the presence of the doctors, there would be little time for her and Damon to spend together anyway. It might be easier to utilize a time when they both could remain busy. She could always go back and work on exposing InterCorp in case her e-mails didn’t work.

She reached the river, still confused. Her head said she needed to go but her heart—her heart wanted nothing more than to be with him. This violent, intriguing existence wasn’t what she wanted. She’d grown up living in fear of her father and had sworn never to live that way again. Even with the new life Damon’s tribe would have, there would always be threats.

The weight of decision pressed in on her, and she sighed.

No one was down by the water. It didn’t matter. If Damon had been there, she would have muddled any reasons she had for staying or going. She had to have it right in her own head before she spoke to him.

Slipping the laces loose on her boots, she pulled them off and rolled her pant legs up. The water swirled cool around her feet. She welcomed the moment of peaceful silence, as though the insanity only yards away didn’t exist.

She sat on a large boulder near the water’s edge. “What am I going to do?”

Tears formed in her eyes, and with no one around, she let them fall. She’d spent her time alone after John’s disappearance. Filling her days and nights with John’s mission. All her efforts, the belief that she could somehow honor his memory by continuing his mission, were for nothing.

To know he had lived and worked with the very people he initially wanted to expose was ironic. Worse, he’d done it for money. Not because he agreed with what InterCorp was doing, or because the land would be utilized for the greater good. For money and nothing more.

Now, because of the steps she’d taken to complete what John had started, she’d met Damon. And she would have to leave him. The ache in her chest pulled tight. This was not going to be easy.

Chiding herself for her weakness, she brushed the tears away. There was no use in crying. So much still remained to be done. The potential for others to become ill was still very much a threat. And here she was sitting with her misery. Reminding herself that there was always someone in worse straits, she climbed back up the embankment and sat to pull her boots back on.

The soft gurgle of the water mingled with her breaths. Nothing else moved. The scent of flowers drifted on the wind. Something in the stillness tingled at her senses. She knew this jungle now, knew its subtle nuances. No birds chirped. Nothing but the slow-moving water.

The small hairs at the nape of her neck stood on end. Someone was watching her. She shifted her weight and pretended to fix her boot. Grabbing a fistful of the crushed river silt, she closed her hand tight and stretched as she sat up.

There was no movement. No sign that someone was there, but she knew there was another presence. A slight shift to her right, the barest shuffle of the leaves, caught her attention. When the barely discernible aroma of cologne reached her nose, she stood and turned back toward the camp.

It only took a moment for him to step from the trees. Dressed in dark, camouflaged clothing, John stepped before her, his hands braced against his hips. “Hello, baby.”

“Don’t call me that.” She glanced past him and then wondered if she truly wanted anyone to come. Better to deal with him herself. “What are you doing here?”

He shrugged and walked forward. “I came to convince you to retract the e-mails you sent. That really wasn’t very smart, you know.”

She sidestepped him and rushed up the embankment, creating a slight distance between them. “I thought it was rather clever, actually. If your partners think it was you that turned on them, then it’s going to be your head they hunt.”

He laughed. “Ah, it would have worked nicely too, but I warned you that others would suffer for your continued interference.”

A startled scream came from the direction of the camp, and Myla stepped back farther. “What have you done?”

“Nothing more than I warned. My men are waiting for my command. Now tell me, what are you going to do? You can come with me and clear up the misunderstanding with my partners—” he held a hand out and waited, “—or your precious tribe can die. You choose.”

Her hand tightened around the gritty silt she still held. “If I come with you, will you call off your men?”

He stepped up next to her, his eyes moving slowly over her body. One long finger moved down her cheek to the curve of her neck before descending into her shirt. “Of course.”