Demons in the Jungle

Chapter 22

  The bunker loomed out of the dark like a beacon. Its high stone walls, the filled-in slot windows, the heavy door. I leaned against it and vomited again, the music from the jungle blaring into my ears. I brought my hands to my head, shoving myself into the bunker door. It creaked open and I fell inside, jaw dropping at what I found.

The bunker had been torn apart. The walls were scorched from smoke and fire here and there, the crates and cots and supplies reduced to scraps of wood and twisted pieces of junk. The weapons and ammunition were gone, all of the metal pieces of the hobo stove ripped apart and thrown about. Everything was destroyed. Everything was gone.

Mimi and Milli were dead.

I found them in a corner, near where their cots had been. They were slumped against the wall, together, near-identical dark bullet holes in their foreheads. I could see the grim splashes of blood on the wall, from when they had been killed. They both wore expressions of sad surprise on their faces, and they were holding hands as they stared at a blank wall. They had been shot execution-style.

I fell to my knees, looking around at the horrible scene, feeling my bottom lip trembling. "Amy." I growled, fighting back tears as I looked at the two dead girls. Why them? He wanted me. He was coming after me. Why did he have to extend his insane obsessions to these two? What did they have to do with any of this?

I stood up shakily, my feet like rubber, searching through the destroyed supplies. I found a large blanket, cautiously moving the bodies of Mimi and Milli until they laid flat and covering them with it. I made sure their hands were kept linked together. Then, I kept looking, trying to find medical supplies, something to treat my wounds. It turned out the ransacking had been very random and pointless; the remains of several first aid kits were strewn around the bunker. I picked them up one by one and then sat in the middle of the floor, examining my wounds.

The leg was easy enough to treat. The stick had missed any essential muscles or tendons, so I treated it with some antiseptic and wrapped it in gauze. My stomach was another matter. I took several minutes to stitch up the wound, doing a pretty bad job but managing to seal it against further bleeding, and then applied some antiseptic and gauze to it as well. I frowned, looking down at the last item I'd found; a small bottle of painkillers. My head was swimming, the colors of the world all wrong; the poison was still pumping through my veins. I didn't want to mix that with the drugs, and I didn't want to wait any longer. I had to get out there. I frowned and discarded them, deciding it was best to go on without them.

I sighed, looking around at the remains of the available supplies. I found pieces of one gun, a pistol, but there were components missing. I couldn't reassemble it. I changed my shirt for one clean of blood, and then ate a quick meal of some kind of ration bar I'd found.

I took one last look around, frowning at the sheet that covered the two corpses. I looked down at my wrapped wounds, my kukri sheathed on my belt. Could I ever really go home after this? After I had stared death in the face so many times? After I had come so close to the primal self, my ear to the ground, my heart in the jungle? Amy had called me a demon. What if I was? I felt tuned to kill. I felt like an immortal warrior, invading the jungle and setting it ablaze with my fury. The Kokowai warriors had saw me rise from a pit of death and run away screaming. They knew what I was. So what if I was a demon? It had kept me alive so far.

I remembered the last fight I'd had with Ariel, before the night of the beach party. It felt like a long time ago. It was our first night in Brazil, and everyone was tired from the flight – except me. While they had stayed up and watched Wall-E, I had caught a nap, so I was ready to go when we landed. Everyone fell asleep in the hostel, and I went wandering. I ended up finding a group of guys who were going quadding in the jungle, so I decided to join them. I went back to the hostel and tried to rouse the group, but only Jay was interested, after I got some coffee and a joint in him. I spent a good chunk of money to pull it off, but we'd ended up coming back at nearly noon, caked in mud and drunk off our asses. By then, Deb and Ariel were awake, impatient, waiting for us.

"You couldn't at least tell me you were going to be gone all day?" Ariel had asked, standing in the kitchen with her arms crossed. She was wearing a sun dress, and to be honest, she looked fucking incredible – except for that bitchy look on her face.

"I tried!" I said defensively. "You didn't want to hear it. You wanted to sleep, so I let you sleep."

"You're always doing this!" Ariel shouted, throwing her hands up with defeat. "You just do whatever you want without considering anybody else! Now the flow of the whole vacation is off, so what are we supposed to do now?"

It had gone in circles like that for some time. Our positions never changed and the argument went nowhere. It was my vacation. Why was she trying to control me like this? Because she always did, I realized. Ariel was a total control freak. My life was filled with people like her. People who wanted to force me down a specific path, deciding they knew what was best for me without even consulting me. But I had broken free of them. I had broken free of her. I was my own man now. I needed no hand at my side.

I set out from the bunker in search of the shore, finding my way quickly. Its scent floated out to me amongst the music of the poison in my veins. I followed the trail into the jungle, seeing the leaves and trunks grow and shrink around me. The sky kept changing colors, animals kept finding me and then running away, disappearing into dark mist. I was surprised I was still standing.

I reached the beach without much difficulty, surprised at what I found there. A boat had come ashore, sitting in the shallows. It was a patrol boat, but of a newer design than Amy's. The white lettering on the side was in Portuguese, but the message was obvious. It was some kind of police vehicle.

I approached it carefully, first making sure that it was, in fact, real, and then trying to find the occupants. I found their tracks, leading from the sand and into the jungle, toward the distant smoke of the still-burning fire. However, as I got closer, I realized the boat hadn't been completely abandoned.

I waded through the water carefully, coming to the rear of the boat and watching the officer who stood at the wheel. I didn't want to kill him if I didn't have to. I had to be very careful. I reached up slowly, climbing into the back of the boat without disturbing it. I crouched low, examining my surroundings as the officer cleared his throat. He was wearing a heavy-looking vest, and a helmet. He wouldn't be easy to take down.

I watched him as he reached into his pocket, retrieving a battered package of cigarettes, and I moved fast. I reached up, grasping him by the helmet and shoving him into the wheel of the boat. His face crunched loudly into it with a pained grunt, and I shoved him again before letting him crumple at my feet. He didn't move.

I bent down low, checking the man's pulse. He was still breathing. Good. I picked him up by his vest and hauled him onto my shoulder. I threw him off the boat and onto the shore, and then quickly got behind the wheel. I didn't look back as I turned the boat's engine on and pushed the throttle forward. I was finished with the northern island. They'd felt my warrior wrath. Now, it was time for Charlie and Amy.