Demons in the Jungle

Chapter 6

  "Oi, Tommy."

I opened my eyes, blinking away the blurriness as Amy's face came into focus. He was leaning over me, blue eyes bright and alert, grinning through a fresh cigar stuck in his teeth.

"Wakey-wakey, hands off snakey, mate." He said, leaning back as I sat up straight. I had barely slept; I didn't feel completely safe in this camp, so I'd got up and taken one of the old paperbacks off the shelf, flipping through it casually while I waited to hear if someone was going to come in and slit my throat. When nobody did, I tried to sleep, but it still wouldn't happen. I refused to look at my phone. I know Ariel had texted me, probably all the things she had texted Deb, and worse. But I didn't want to see it. It was too late. I had crossed the Rubicon. I didn't even know if I had a signal out here. So I sat on the bed, and I began thinking about who else had slept here. How many of Amy's clients didn't make it out of the jungle once they left this bed? Half? Less? I didn't want to dwell on these unknowns any longer, so I did push-ups on the floor until I was completely exhausted. Then I finally did fall asleep, but it didn't feel like very long.

"Ugh." I muttered, sitting on the edge of the bed and rubbing my forehead. "What time is it?"

"Little after noon." Amy said, going to the stove and checking a rusty old kettle he'd set to boil. "I gave you the standard army-issue six hours. I hope it was enough, Tommy boy."

I stood, cracking my neck and letting the feeling coming back into my body. I didn't feel that well-rested, but it didn't sound like I had much of a choice. "How are we getting to the, uh, hunting ground?" I asked, checking the footlocker to find that my bag was, indeed, still there.

"Chopper." Amy said, taking the kettle off the burner as it whistled. "It'll be here in about an hour, so we've gotta get you outfitted." Amy poured two cups, stirring them lazily. "Which means you need to wake up!" He shouted, bringing the cups over and handing me one. "Drink!" He said, in a voice reminiscent of a Stereotypical Japanese sensai. "Refuel! Reeevitalize!"

I smirked and took the cup, sipping carefully at it. It was a strong brew, and not very good at all, but I kept sipping, welcoming the caffeine. The reality of what I was about to do began to sink back in, and I internally began to ready myself. My mind went over the knife lessons, the target practice, and even tried to recall some more of my father's tracking advice. Now that the time had come, I felt horribly unprepared. With sleep still fogging my brain, my mind started to go dark on me, questioning everything I was doing, making me second-guess myself. Maybe Ariel was right about the murder laws. Maybe I was about to do something really horrible. I couldn't possibly ask Amy. I shook it off as I swallowed down the rest of the coffee; these bouts of self-pity never lasted long, and they didn't matter anyway. I'd already given Amy the money. I'd already made the deal.

"Right, let's go." Amy said, leading me out of the cabin and back to the outside world. It was a bright and clear day, almost no clouds in the sky, the sun high above me and burning bright. Within minutes, I was wiping sweat from my brow. Almost four days in Brazil, and I was still nowhere used to the heat here.

The camp no longer looked like Pirate Party Central. If the prostitutes were still around, they were out of sight. The only people visible were Amy's men, holding rifles and looking rushed as they tended to tasks I couldn't make sense of. A lot of men were around the docks, carrying crates and canvas bags off a pair of boats moored there. I couldn't pick up any sense of cheer or celebration, like there had been last night. These men had quickly switched gears and were now hard at work, doing whatever it was they did under Amy's direction.

I was led to one of the cabins that was being kept under guard. It turned out to be an armory, outfitted with more guns and ammunition than I had ever seen. More of Amy's men were inside, tending to the place, working with a disassembled fifty-cal on a table. They nodded curtly to Amy and I as we entered and Amy gestured around grandly.