Against All Odds Read online

  Me, neither.

  Alex and Lucy rounded the corner. Jake met up with them on the lower deck. “How’d it go?”

  “It was great,” Alex said. His eyes narrowed a fraction. “Enlightening.”

  Jake nodded. Alex had learned something, but for now they had to continue playing the game.

  Lively chatter spilled from the bar. When Jake and the kids pushed through the swinging doors, he was surprised to see the place was packed with families seated around the long tables, at least fifty people in all, crowded together on the bench seats. The smell of food filled the air, the aroma laced with unfamiliar spices. Jake licked his lips.

  “Wow,” Alex said. “Does that smell good or what?”

  Lucy grinned. “Special for you.”

  The conversations quieted as they stepped inside. Jake wasn’t sure if it was out of respect or fear. The adults offered nods and subdued smiles as he and Alex walked past and sat where space had been saved at the end of one of the tables—Jake and Alex on one side, Lucy on the other.

  When Frank rolled in from the back room, the smiles of the folks sitting around Jake widened a tad. But they seemed forced, as if they were all for show, like everything else around here. If so, Lucy and the rest of the kids weren’t in on it, because they beamed as a trail of women followed Frank bearing platters of food and drink. There was broiled meat and fish, piles of mashed sweet potatoes, a variety of vegetables, fresh-baked bread, and bowls stacked high with fruits and nuts. Plus bottles of chilled water, milk, and wine.

  Frank plopped down next to Lucy. He frowned at the empty space beside his daughter, but eased off when an attractive native woman pushed through the door and sauntered over to sit beside Lucy. Frank’s eyes twitched, and it was easy to see he wasn’t pleased she was late. The woman ignored him and the man’s jaw tightened. Just as fast, the tension eased, and Frank grabbed a roll, and stuffed it in his mouth. “Hope you’re hungry!” He grinned, bits of bread clinging to his lips. Everyone dove in.

  “Dad, I’d like you to meet Lucy’s mom, Mandu.”

  “Pleasure to meet you,” Jake said, extending his hand over the table. Her smile was genuine, her handshake firm, and the way Alex looked at her told him his son thought she was okay.

  “Believe me, the pleasure is all ours.” Jake was surprised by her command of English. She motioned to the wide assortment of food. “We don’t get many guests out here, so we always mark the event with a feast. We don’t eat quite like this every day.”

  “I do,” Frank said, not bothering to look up as he stuffed a forkful of mashed potatoes into his mouth.

  Mandu’s frown was brief, but Jake sensed her pent-up anger. “Anyway, we’re glad you’re here.”

  Lucy was busy distributing food onto their plates. Her eyes were as big as those of a kid opening presents on Christmas morning. She placed a nicely charred fish filet on Jake’s plate. “Is good!”

  Jake couldn’t help but wonder why the quality of Lucy’s English didn’t match her mother’s, and Mandu noticed his curious glance. “English has no use in our culture.” She seemed defensive. Jake was again surprised, this time because she’d so easily interpreted the question on his mind. “It may be a wife’s obligation to learn the language of her husband, but not a daughter’s.” Frank shrugged, stuffed a slab of fish into his mouth, and chased it down with gulps of wine.

  Mandu continued. “A father names a daughter, but a mother decides what is best for her. And Lucy’s upbringing has not only been in the language of our tribe, but also in other dialects as well, including an ancient one known only by a sole-surviving elder from a very old tribe.” She gestured toward the families gathered at the tables. “Most all of us were forced from our ancestral lands. We come together here as one, but we are many tribes, and Lucy embraces them all.”

  Lucy blushed. She forked a piece of roasted meat from a platter, and reached across the table to place it on Alex’s plate. He grimaced and held up his hand to block her. She looked at him like he was crazy. “But is best?”

  “Uh, no, thanks. I’ll stick to the fish.”

  Lucy dropped the meat onto Jake’s plate instead. It smelled delicious. He cut a piece, and had the fork halfway to his mouth when Alex’s horrified expression stopped him. “What’s the matter with you?” he asked.

  All eyes were on Alex. Even Frank looked up, though it didn’t stop him from shoving a heap of vegetables into his mouth. Alex pursed his lips under the scrutiny, as if considering his response. Finally, he tilted his head toward the platter of roasted meat and asked, “Remember the little guy who stole dates in the first Indiana Jones movie?”

  It was one of Jake’s favorite movies, and the mischievous little monkey flashed across his mind. He looked from the platter to Alex and back again, and now the attention was on him. He was a guest in this country, and had read monkey meat was a staple of the diet. When in Rome, he thought. He forked the meat into his mouth and chewed it with gusto. It was a tad gamy but pretty good, especially the way it had been seasoned. “You’re right, Lucy. It is the best!” He downed another bite.

  Alex looked aghast, Mandu smiled, and Lucy kept serving.

  Mandu took a sip of wine. “I’m anxious to hear what brings you and your son here.”

  Jake rolled his eyes. “It’s a long story, that’s for sure.”

  “Too long for the telling?”

  “Perhaps later.” He glanced at Alex, and considered what his son had been through in the last few days, embarking on a rescue mission of his own design in Colombia—with a bunch of kids, no less—not to mention everything he and Jake had been through together before that in the South China jungles. “But for now, suffice it to say, Alex and I seem to have developed a lust for adventure.”

  Taking a drink of milk, Alex choked back a huff. When he pulled the glass away, he had a milk mustache that covered part of his nose. He used a napkin to wipe it clean, avoiding Jake’s amused expression.

  Mandu grinned. “I’ll look forward to hearing more. The longer the story, the better the tale, I say. This part of the Amazon may be one of the most remote places in the world, most of it untouched by modern man. But that doesn’t mean it isn’t steeped in history for those of us whose ancestors have resided here for thousands of years. It is enriched by long stories. Ancient stories.” She cast a sideways glance at Frank, who’d turned away to motion to one of the servers. “Not all of them are good.”

  Jake caught the warning beneath the words. When Alex gave a subtle nod, Jake knew his son was aboard as well.

  Mandu’s eyes darted to Alex, then back to Jake. “I understand you’re looking for a guide?”

  Frank stopped chewing. He spoke with a full mouth. “Let’s save the business talk ’til after the meal.”

  “But I was just thinking—”

  “After the meal, me love.” Frank drew out the last two words. He swallowed his food and his eyes went flat.

  Lucy tensed.

  Mandu looked at her daughter. “Of course,” she said, too casually.

  Thick clouds had darkened the sky, and a breeze kicked up. They continued eating. Mandu and Lucy relaxed quickly enough that Jake figured they were used to tense moments between them and Frank, and that they’d learned long ago how to slough them off.

  Chapter 6

  WITH THE TENSION DISSIPATED, the dinner conversation became light and casual, and Jake had eaten with enthusiasm. It was the first good meal he’d had in a week. After enjoying sizeable helpings of everything, he soaked up the remnant juices from his plate with a wad of bread, and savored the mix of flavors as he finished it off. Alex was already done. From the numerous bare pineapple rinds on his plate, and the satisfied look on his face, Jake surmised his son had enjoyed the meal every bit as much as he had, despite the continued refusals to sample the monkey meat.

  Alex sat back, rubbed his stomach, and licked the last bit of glistening pineapple juice from his lips. He scanned the room. “I guess we’re slow eaters.”
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  Jake followed his gaze. All the tables were still filled with people chatting quietly amongst themselves, but their plates and platters had long since been cleared. The children seemed anxious to depart, but Jake could tell from the adults’ furtive glances that they were waiting for him and Alex to finish. Whether it was out of politeness for the guests of honor or fear of Frank, Jake wasn’t sure. Either way, there was no sense in making them wait any longer. Besides, he and Alex had things to do.

  He stood up. “Best meal ever. My thanks for your generosity, Frank, and for your company, Mandu and Lucy. But I wonder if we could meet our guide now, if that’s okay?” He looked over the crowd, many of which were now staring at him. “Can you point him out? Ask him to join us?”

  Frank frowned. He made a sharp tilt of his chin toward the exit, and the group of diners all seemed to rise at once to proceed outside. A couple of the kids Jake recognized from the dock started to come toward them, but adults ushered them away. Servers swept in and cleared the last few dirty plates and platters, and a minute later Jake and Alex were alone in the big space with Frank and his family.

  “Now, then,” Frank said, ignoring the rapid evacuation as if it was an everyday thing. “About your guide. I found somebody special for you. He’s going to cost you more but he’s worth every penny of it. Nobody knows the jungle like Trumak.”

  Mandu and Lucy stiffened.

  As if on cue, a hard-as-nails native pushed through the swinging doors. He stopped cold, and his head swiveled in their direction, his black eyes locked on Jake.

  Lucy rose from the table. “Must excuse.” Eyes on the floor, she hurried out the doorway behind the bar.

  Alex looked after her with concern.

  “Don’t you mind her none. Trumak’s a wee bit intimidating, that’s all.”

  “Can’t argue with that,” Jake said, sizing up the man. Trumak was short but formidable, with bowl-cut black hair, a mask of red paint surrounding his eyes, and a broad nose that had been pierced through the septum by a four-inch long bone the thickness of a chopstick. Three more bone stubs projected from under his full lower lip, combining with a swirl of facial tattoos to create the impression of a perpetual snarl. He wore a loincloth, and his skin was stained neck to toe with mottled splotches for camouflage. Straps crisscrossed his chest, supporting an animal-hide backpack, a sheath of long arrows, and a smaller sheath of twelve-inch darts. Most of the darts had red-painted shafts, but a few were painted green. A machete was strapped at his side. He held a bow in one hand, a long blow pipe in the other, and from the look on his face, he was taking no prisoners.

  A warrior kitted up for battle.

  “Wow,” Alex muttered.

  Frank gestured and Trumak slid toward them, like a panther approaching prey. Jake never took his eyes off him.

  Alex, on the other hand, rose to confront the man. “You. Are. Awesome. Is that a blowgun?”

  Trumak’s brow creased as he considered Alex, like a predatory animal appraising a squirrel.

  “Sure enough, lad,” Frank said. “And the tips of the red darts are coated with poison taken from the secretions of the most colorful frogs in the rainforest. Even a scratch from their sharp tips causes instant paralysis. And I do mean instant! A minute later, you stop breathing.”

  “What about the green ones?”

  “Those are for jaguars, if you’re unlucky enough to meet up with one. They’re sacred animals to Trumak’s tribe and must never be killed. So the green darts carry a powerful sedative in case of a chance encounter. It’ll put ’em down instantly, but they’ll wake up later with little more than a headache.”

  Alex took a step back. Trumak sniffed, and the bone through his nose twitched.

  “And you’re going to be our guide?” Alex asked.

  “He doesn’t speak a word of English,” Mandu said, which earned her a scowl from Frank.

  “Maybe not,” Frank said, motioning toward the doorway. “But Jabuti and Quando over there can translate. They’ll be going with you.”

  The two natives had slipped in unnoticed by Jake, and that unnerved him. They were outfitted like Trumak, though neither shared his fierce countenance.

  “Are you kidding, Frank?” Mandu asked. “They can’t put a sentence together between them.” Frank’s jaw tightened. She ignored him and waved to the newcomers. “Hey, Quando, what’s the weather like today?”

  The shorter of the two natives squinted as if trying to figure out what she’d said. The other simply stared at her.

  Frank’s hands closed into fists, but his wife pressed on. “What’s the difference between a tree and a river?”

  Still no reaction from the taller one, who Jake guessed was Jabuti. The shorter one, Quando, shifted uneasily.

  “Enough!” Frank pounded on the table. Alex hurried to sit back down next to Jake. Frank added, “They know enough to get by on a two-day trek.”

  “Hardly,” Mandu said. “But it doesn’t matter. Because there is someone who knows the jungle better than Trumak and that’s me. I will guide them.”

  “You? Don’t be daft, girl. You’ll do no such thing.”

  She rose and glared at him. “I will, and that’s that!” Her nostrils flared.

  Frank’s face went beet red. When he stood, he towered over her. But she didn’t back down. He grabbed her wrist and pulled her toward the bar. Jake stood, but before he could take a step, Trumak blocked his way. The warrior didn’t speak, but his body language said don’t interfere.

  “Excuse me, lads. I’ll be right back,” Frank said, before disappearing with Mandu through the doorway behind the bar.

  Jake sat back down. Alex gripped his pant leg under the table. It was fear for his son’s safety that forced Jake to keep his anger in check.

  The five of them waited uncomfortably together. Trumak stood firm between Jake and the bar, while the others lingered at the main exit. The entire setup made Jake more convinced than ever that they had to get away from here before morning. Mandu had said she knew the jungle better than anyone and Jake believed her. Perhaps she would help.

  An old AC/DC rock-’n’-roll track suddenly streamed from the back room. When the volume was turned up, Jake knew it was to cover up their argument. Or worse.

  The minutes stretched, and two songs later Frank finally returned. Alone. “Sorry ’bout that. Poor lass has been a bit out of sorts lately. In any case, Trumak really is the best guide we’ve got. He’ll do a fine job for you.”

  There was a crack of thunder. The clouds opened up and water fell in sheets outside. Quando pointed out the window. “Rain!” he said, with a proud nod.

  Frank grinned. “See? I told you they could speak English.”

  ***

  Back in our room, I stuffed freeze-dried food packets into my pack while Dad loaded bullets into the magazines for the assault rifle and his new pistol. He’d purchased a lot of gear from Frank, to make it look like we were going along with the plan to leave in the morning with Trumak. But we planned to get Mandu’s help so we could leave on our own that night. We were worried about her after the way Frank had pulled her out of the bar. I’d wanted to sneak to her hut in the village to see her right away, but Dad said we had to wait until nightfall, for her sake as much as ours. It would be pitch-dark in an hour. In the meantime, we needed to get packed up and ready to go.

  We didn’t think Mandu would risk guiding us after Frank’s objections, but maybe she could at least point us in the right direction. The coordinates of our final destination were branded into our brains from the visions we’d shared, so we knew where we had to end up. But it was fifty miles from where we were now, in the middle of nowhere, and we didn’t have a clue about the best way to get there. Either way, we would have to move fast, and we couldn’t do that with overstuffed field packs. So the tent, sleeping bags, tarps, and other noncritical items were piled on the floor along with the aluminum-framed backpack designed to hold it all. The packs we’d brought with us on the plane would have to do.


  Dad slid two of the banana-shaped rifle magazines into his pack, and the third into an outside pocket of his new tactical vest. I put another bottle of water in my pack, wedging it alongside Dad’s sat phone.

  “Can we call Mom yet? She’s got to be worried sick.”

  “I’m still not convinced the sat phone can’t be tracked.” He patted a zippered pocket on his vest. “The encrypted phone Marshall gave me is supposed to be untraceable, but I don’t want to risk it until we’re clear of this place. As soon as it’s safe, we’ll call her. I promise.”

  “All right.” I stuffed one last bottle of water into my pack.

  “Make sure it’s not too heavy,” Dad said.

  I hefted my pack off the bed. “It’s okay.” It wasn’t that much heavier than the load of books I usually had to cart to and from school back home. Between the food, water, gear, and personal stuff, it was a lot bulkier, though, and I couldn’t buckle the flap.

  “No worries, son. Hand over the water.”

  His pack was triple the size of mine, and already jammed full. I was small but I still wanted to do my share. “No, I can handle it. Hang on.” I dug around the bottom of my pack until I found what I wanted. I pulled out the broken Spider headset. I’d been saving it because I figured Uncle Marshall would be able to repair it when we hooked back up with him.

  If we hooked back up with him.

  I tossed the Spider on the floor, jiggled my pack to settle the contents, and buckled the flap. Dad was giving me one of those I’m-proud-of-you looks. It made me feel better.

  Dad rose and hoisted his pack onto his back. “Try yours on, too. Make sure the weight is evenly balanced.”

  I swung it around to loop it over my shoulders, and nearly lost my footing from the weight of it. Dad just stood there watching. There was no judgment and I appreciated that. I slipped my arms through the straps and took a couple of steps. “It’s a little bulky, but it’s okay.”

  Dad crouched down. “Turn around and I’ll adjust it so it’s not riding so low.” A couple of tugs later, the pack was seated higher. “Better?”