The Piranhas (5 page)

“What time can we get in?” I asked.

“The fishermen go in at four in the morning. By five o’clock we could begin. We should be in Belén by eleven o’clock and be tied up to the dock a half hour later.”

“What’s Belén?” I asked.

“It’s where the Pucallpa boats dock—the smaller boats like ours. They also live on the houseboats there. The big ships are ten kilometers beyond at the other end of the city.”

“Where did the captain tell them they would dock?” I asked.

They shook their heads. “He never told them,” she said.

I looked out at the channel in the center of the river. The fishermen’s searchlights were like lightning bugs bobbing up and down in the water about three-quarters of a mile outside of our cove. It seemed as if there were hundreds of them. I turned back to the sailors. “Okay,” I said to Alma. “Tell them I want to get underway as soon as the fishermen are gone. And to stay out in the river as far away as possible from Belén, and we will go in where the big ships dock.”

Alma translated. Pablo shook his head. He said something angrily. She turned to me. “He says it would be dangerous. That is where the customs and police are stationed.”

“I’ll worry about it when we get there,” I said. I turned again and looked at the fishermen. “Keep your eyes out for them,” I said, nodding in their direction. “If any of them come toward us, let me know.”

She translated and then followed me to the stern, where we sat down on the small bench. “What are you thinking?”

“I don’t trust any of them,” I said. “But if we are to meet someone, it makes more sense that he would meet us at one of the more important docks than at the docks for crappy riverboats and fishermen.”

“I would think the smaller docks would be safer than the big ones,” she said.

“I remember something that Angelo once told me. The best place to hide is out in the open. No one ever thinks you would be doing anything wrong.”

“Angelo was crazy,” she said.

“Not that crazy,” I said. “He got me down here. What did he promise you to come with him?”

She looked down at me. “I liked him.”

I smiled. “Nothing else?”

She laughed. “Money. A lot of it.”

I nodded. “How much?”

“A thousand dollars U.S.”

“You just got a raise,” I said. “We get out of this, you get ten grand.”

She was silent for a moment; then she laughed. “Now we have to fuck,” she said.

“First, we get out of here,” I said, looking out at the fishermen’s boats, their lights bobbing up and down in the channel.

“What are you watching for?” she asked.

“I don’t feel right,” I said. I pointed around the cove. “We may be hidden from the fishermen but we’re less than a hundred yards from the shore around us. And on top of it, the forest is right up to the water and there is no way we can see into it.”

She stared at the shoreline. “Do you think the mestizos have followed us along the river?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “Do you think they could?”

“There are really no roads,” she answered.

“But they have horses,” I said. “They could have made it on footpaths.”

She gestured forward to the sailors. “Do you think they might know anything about them?”

“I don’t know.” I shrugged. “They weren’t very upset about the captain. I’m sure they knew what he was planning and were part of it.”

She turned and stared at the shore. Night had fallen swiftly, and the only light we had was from the sparkling stars and the yellowish full moon. “I can’t see a damn thing in there.”

I nodded. “Bring the rifles and the gun I gave you and let’s keep them up here with us.”

“You’re going to stay up all night?” she asked.

“I’ll feel safer,” I said.

“I’ll stay up with you,” she said. “I’ll feel safer with you.”

I looked at her. “Then put on a pair of jeans instead of your shorts and get a hat and a bug veil as well as the bottle of citronella. I don’t want the bugs to get us if the mestizos don’t.”

She laughed. “I’ll be back in a few minutes,” she said going down into the cabin.

She wasn’t stupid. She came up from the cabin with blankets and pillows. “If we wrap up in these blankets the damp will make us feel soaked as if we are in a bath. But if we spread them out on the deck, it will be dryer than sitting on the bench.”

“Good idea,” I said. “We’ll also be less of a target.” I watched her spread the blankets on the deck. The pillows almost made it look comfortable. Too comfortable. I had an idea. “There’s a round three-foot wicker basket next to my bunk. Bring it up with another blanket.”

She didn’t ask any questions. When she returned, I set the basket on the bench where I had been sitting, wrapped a blanket around it and stuck my old panama hat on top. I turned to her. “What do you think?”

She giggled. “He looks exactly like you.”

“Thanks,” I said and slipped down to the deck beside her. “Now you can get some sleep. I’ll keep watch.”

“You’re not tired?” she asked.

“I’m okay.”

“If you need a lift, I’ve got a vial in my pocket.”

“I’ll keep it in mind,” I said. “I might need it.”

I watched her wrap herself in the blanket, and I turned back up to look at the basket, smiling to myself. She was right. In the black of night it looked exactly like me.

5

I FELT HER
hand on my shoulder and came instantly wide-awake. She pressed a finger against my lips and pointed forward to the bow of the boat. Keeping my head down I peered behind the overhang of the cabin.

A man was climbing aboard from a rowboat tied to a stanchion near the bow. In the dark I could not see his face but I saw our sailors gesturing to him. He nodded and began walking silently on bare feet across the narrow deck to where we had been sleeping.

I pushed her into the cabin doorway behind me and raised the rifle against my shoulder. The man moved quickly now. I saw the gleam of the machete as he held it over his head and brought it down viciously into the basket I had placed on the bench. The machete was tangled in the blanket as the wicker basket collapsed around it. I didn’t wait for the man to turn toward us. I pumped two shots into his back between his shoulders. He bent forward and slumped over the stern. I kicked him in the ass and he fell awkwardly over the small railing and into the water.

Alma’s automatic roared in a series of staccato explosions. I whirled toward her. She had the gun held stiff-armed in front of her, pointing at the sailor running toward us on the narrow deck. He was still moving toward us as I pushed her out of the way and he fell forward. I pushed him away. A revolver fell to the deck from his lifeless hands. I shoved him off the deck into the water.

“It was Pablo,” she said in a trembling voice. “He was trying to kill us.”

“That’s right,” I said.

“Is he dead?” she asked apprehensively.

“Yes,” I said.

She crossed herself quickly. “I have sinned. I have never killed a man before.”

“You would have sinned more if you let him kill you,” I said. I took the gun from her hand and replaced the cartridge. “Keep this. You might need it again.”

I motioned to her. “Follow me,” I said and started along the narrow deck toward the bow.

Just as I came in front of the cabin, I heard the splash of oars and the rowboat moving away. In the prow of the boat was the younger sailor, still holding a six-pronged grappling hook with the rope trailing behind it. He stared, almost frozen with fear. Slowly I raised the muzzle of the rifle at him. He didn’t hesitate. In one motion, he dived from the boat and thrashed through the water after the rowboat.

I watched him for a moment, then turned to Alma. “I guess we lost our crew.”

Alma looked at me. “Now what do we do?”

“We’ll figure out something,” I answered, sounding more confident than I felt. I touched her hand. It was trembling. I pressed her palm into mine. “Take it easy,” I said. “We’ll manage. We survived this far.”

Her eyes filled with tears. “I killed a man.”

“He would have killed you,” I said. “It’s okay.”

She began to cry, and I pulled her head to my chest. “Calm down,” I said softly, stroking her head. “It couldn’t be helped.”

She clung to me. “When we get to Iquitos, I will go to confession.”

I felt her body pressing warmly against me. “Whatever you say,” I said.

A note of surprise came into her voice. She looked up at me. “You have a hard-on.”

I tried to move away from her but she held tightly to me. “I’m normal,” I said.

“I thought you didn’t like me,” she said.

“I told you. You were Angelo’s girl.” I moved away from her and she turned her face up to me. I kissed her quickly, then stepped back. “I like you. But we have other things to do before we begin to play.”

She began to smile confidently. “Did you ever have any Peruvian pussy?” she asked teasingly.

“No,” I answered, smiling back at her. “The only thing Peruvian I’ve ever had is Peruvian blue.”

“You’re in for a treat. Peruvian pussy is even better than Peruvian blue. You’ll never have a better high than that.”

I laughed. “Stop. You’ll get me crazy.” I walked down the deck to the stern of the boat. I opened the small hatch to the engine room. I looked up at her. “Keep your eyes open and call me if any of them try to come over here. I’m going to check out the engine.”

“Okay,” she said.

There were only three steps to the ladder into the engine room and the room was no more than three feet high. I hunched over and found a small electric bulb next to the wall. There was no switch to turn it on with, so I turned the bulb into the socket and it lit dimly. I turned to look at the engine. It was a simple old-fashioned two-cylinder Harvester motor that had probably once belonged to a small tractor. The motor could be started by a flywheel pulled by a cord much like an outboard. Next to the motor was a bank of six twelve-volt car batteries, and above them was a gas tank. I peered at the gauge of the tank. It showed almost half full. I then checked the gears. There were only two positions—forward and rear. Simple enough, I thought—I could handle it. I unscrewed the bulb slightly and climbed out of the engine room.

She was standing at the stern and watching the land around the cove. “I don’t see anything moving.”

“Good,” I said. “I think we’ll be okay. I can handle the engine, and piloting the boat should be easy.”

“Fine,” she replied. “But do you know where we’re going?”

“Iquitos is downstream,” I said.

“Great,” she said sarcastically. “But do you know anything about the waterfront down there? Which docks would be safe, which would not?”

I looked at her. “Don’t you know anything about Iquitos?”

“I’ve never been there,” she answered. “Why should I? It’s the fucking ass end of the world. No one in Lima would ever go there except for business. Like I told you, there are no roads out of there because of the mountains. You get in by plane or by riverboat from Brazil and Colombia, and I’ve never had a reason to be there.”

“Angelo had arranged for us to get out by plane,” I said. “He had a contact.”

“Do you know the contact?” she asked.

“No,” I said. “But once we’re in town, I figure we’ll be able to make him.”

She was silent for a moment. “You don’t know Peru,” she said. “Iquitos is a rough town, and they’ll make you long before you make them.”

“We have to take our chances,” I said. “There are no other places to go.”

She pointed out toward the river. “The fishermen are going in.”

I watched them moving downriver toward Iquitos. They were leaving in a group. Only a few seemed to be hanging back. Maybe they were trying to fill up their nets. “As soon as they’re all on their way, we’ll start,” I said.

“We’ll be traveling in daylight,” she said.

“We have no choice,” I said. “We can’t stay here. The fucking Indians will be coming after us.”

She shook her head. “I’m frightened,” she said in a tight voice.

“We’ll be all right,” I said, wishing I could feel as sure as I sounded.

She seemed embarrassed. “I have to change. I peed in my pants.”

I laughed. “Don’t feel bad. It’s normal. You go below and clean up. I’ll stay up here.”

I stepped into the small wheelhouse. It was only two steps higher than the deck but it gave me a good vantage point to see anything moving toward us. I found a pack of cigarettes I had left on the bench yesterday and took one out and dragged on it. The smoke helped, even though the cigarette was old and damp. I coughed and kept my eyes on the cove.

My eyes were burning by the time she came up. I kept thinking that I had seen lights flashing in the forest against the shore, but then there was nothing.

“I feel better,” she said. “I washed up. And fresh clothes help.”

“You look good,” I said. I rubbed my eyes. “I must look like hell.”

“Not too bad. You didn’t have much sleep.”

I nodded. I looked out toward the river. There were about three or four fishing boats still out there. “I wish they’d get the hell out,” I said.

“It will be dawn soon,” she said. “They’ll be gone then.”

I grunted and didn’t answer.

She took a vial from the pocket of her jeans. “Peruvian blue,” she said. “I need some help.” Quickly she took two snorts, then handed the vial to me. “We both need the help,” she said.

I took the vial from her. Quickly I took two hits in each nostril. I felt my head open up, and my eyes stopped burning. I was wide-awake. Who needs sleep? I gave the vial back to her and laughed. “Party time,” I said.

She laughed. “You’re feeling better.”

“Check,” I said.

“Look!” She pointed at the river.

One of the fishing boats was coming into the cove, its searchlight pointing at us. I picked up the automatic rifle. We watched the boat coming slowly toward us.

I pressed her shoulder. “Get down on the deck,” I said. “I don’t want anyone to see you.”

She stretched out on the deck, her automatic held closely between her hands. I waited until the fishing boat was near, then blew out its searchlight with a rifle shot.

The voice was in English. “What the hell are you doing?” the man said angrily.