Survival (13 page)

“Well, cross your fingers. So far, everything about this has gone wrong.”

“Which means the odds are that it will start to go right from here on out.”

“Positive thinking. I like that.”

“I don’t like the alternative. Think of it as whistling past the graveyard.”

“Sure thing. In the meanwhile, I’ll keep my eyes open. If she slips up, I’m all over it.”

Igor could hear Fernanda sigh.

“Then let’s hope she does, and soon.”

Chapter 18

SW of Nuquí, Chocó, Colombia

Matt and Hannah followed the fishermen down the dirt road. They’d walked for hours after returning at dawn from their fishing expedition, the catch a seven-foot shark and a number of dorado that were schooling close to the beach. They’d agreed to take Matt and Hannah to the nearest rural bus stop fifteen miles away, across two rivers, where a groaning, overloaded 1950s school bus painted every color of the rainbow stopped four times a day.

Bluebottle flies buzzed around them, lured by the fish filets in the burlap sacks, and Hannah busied herself with swatting the air to keep them from landing on her. Matt blotted her face, and then his, with one of his clean T-shirts he was using as a makeshift towel as they took a short break.

“How are you doing, Hannah?” he asked.

“’Kay. When see Momma?”

“Soon, sweetie. Right now we have to keep walking. Can you do that?”

“Feet. Owie.”

Matt nodded. “I know. Mine too. But it won’t be much longer.”

Luis came over and studied the little girl. “She’s very good, isn’t she?”

“That she is.”

“It’s a shame about your boat.”

Matt looked off into the jungle. “Life can be difficult sometimes. What can you do but keep trying?”

“That’s always been my philosophy. No point in complaining.”

“No.” Matt eyed his almost empty water bottle. “Where can we refill these?”

“There’s a stream about another kilometer down the trail. But you’ll need to sterilize it before you drink it.”

“No problem. I have tablets.”

Luis smiled. “My wife boils it. Everyone in my village does. In big vats. Safer that way.”

“How big is your town?”

“About a thousand people. Everybody knows each other. It’s a simple life, but a good one.”

“Sounds pretty appealing to me right about now.”

“There is much to be said for it. I moved away, took a job in Medellín, in construction, for five years, but I didn’t like living around all those people. I guess I’m not a city kind of guy.”

“They have schools here?”

Luis looked at him strangely. “Of course. There’s one that serves five villages. It’s the law. Everyone can read and write. It’s not that primitive. I mean, we have cell phones, and a few even have satellite TV. There’s power from the main road. We aren’t savages.”

“I meant nothing by it, Luis. You’ve been very kind to show us to the road.” Matt held his gaze. “Although I wonder. If I wanted to lie low for a while, with my daughter, someplace remote…would your village be a good spot?”

Luis’s eyes narrowed. “Lie low? That depends on what you’re lying low from.”

“I’d rather not go into it. Let’s just say there are some dangerous folks who might be looking for me.”

“Cartel?”

Matt shook his head. “No, nothing like that.”

“Police?”

“We haven’t broken any laws. No, it’s more about our not having passports,” Matt lied. “We’re not in the country legally.”

“Ah. Immigration. Yes, that can be a problem.” Luis thought about it. “We may be able to put you up for a few days at my house. We have an extra room. But it’s very rustic. Very. You may not like it.”

“I’m not picky.” Matt lowered his voice. “I would be extremely grateful. I could pay whatever you thought was fair.”

“I’d have to discuss it with my wife.”

“Of course.”

Luis studied Matt’s face. “Shipwrecked off the coast, and problems with immigration. You haven’t had an easy time of it, have you?”

“No. But as you said. What can you do, other than waking up every day and putting one foot in front of the other?”

Luis laughed. “Very well, then. We’ll go to my town. It’s about ten kilometers from the main road and called Antonio Salguero. There’s no reason you’d have ever heard of it. Most haven’t. All that’s there are homes, a small market or two, and a few bars. But I like it.”

“Sounds like just what the doctor ordered.”

Luis considered him. “You may think it’s time to get a new doctor once you see it, my friend.”

“Well, let me be the judge of that. We’re low maintenance. Just need a place to sleep and a bathroom.”

“It will ultimately be up to my wife. I hope you understand. She runs the house.”

“Of course.”

They set off again, the going easier on the wider trail, until a rumble from the sky gave them pause. Luis squinted at the sky through the overhead canopy and sniffed the air. He turned to the others.

“Probably going to get wet.”

As if in response, a deafening boom shook the area and the clouds opened up in a deluge. There was nowhere to take shelter, so they kept marching forward. The trail turned to muddy slop as rain collected in dips and ruts, sucking at their shoes with each step. Hannah struggled to keep up, her wobbly legs inadequate for the new challenge; seeing her difficulty, Matt lifted her into his arms and carried her.

The cloudburst lasted half an hour, and when it was over, steam rose from the wet leaves around them. The muggy swelter was almost unbearable, but Luis and the other fishermen trudged on, seemingly impervious to the heat.

At the next rest break, Matt filled the water bottles from a swollen stream and dropped a tablet into each. He shook the bottles until the milky cloud dissipated, and then took a cautious sniff before swallowing a big gulp. He held the bottle for Hannah and she swallowed, then pulled away and made a face. Matt smiled sadly.

“I know. Tastes like poop. But it’s medicine so we don’t get sick.”

Hannah kept drinking, her expression unsure, and Matt’s heart skipped a beat. She was trying so hard to be good and to not complain, but she had to be every bit as uncomfortable as the rest of them – maybe worse, because her little tennis shoes weren’t made for long treks in the Colombian hinterlands.

When she was done, he carefully removed her shoes and socks and confirmed what he’d been afraid he’d find – angry red blisters. He retrieved antiseptic ointment from the first aid kit and spread the soothing salve on her feet while she put on a brave face, and then dug out a pair of clean socks and pulled them onto her feet as she winced in pain.

Once he’d gotten her shoes back on, Matt repacked the kit and closed it up, and then approached Luis. “I hate to ask you guys for any more help, but I can’t carry her as well as all the bags for another ten kilometers. I’d like to buy one of your sacks of fish filets and we’ll leave it here, and then maybe you can help with the bags? How much would the fish be worth if you sold it?”

Luis frowned. “That’s not the point. It’s not about selling it. We’re going to eat that for the next week.”

Matt had anticipated the objection. “How much does it cost to buy a week’s worth of food?”

Luis calculated. “Maybe…twenty dollars?”

Matt fished a twenty from his pocket and handed it to the fisherman. “Done.”

Luis slipped the bill into his pants and eyed Matt’s bags. “Which one would you like me to take?”

“This one,” he said, patting the emergency survival kit.

Luis shouldered it, tested the weight, and grunted. “Okay. Let’s get going.”

Matt lifted Hannah and seated her on his shoulders, which he knew she loved, and then hoisted their bags. The going was still going to be hard, but the burden was now manageable, and with any luck they’d be able to reach the town before Matt’s back or muscles gave out.

Though luck was far too scarce a commodity in the Colombian jungle for his liking.

Chapter 19

Frontino, Colombia

Fernanda strolled from her guest room in Mosises’ hacienda to the kitchen, where an old woman was chopping vegetables, her breakfast chores completed an hour ago.

“Can I get you anything?” the woman asked upon seeing Fernanda.

“No, I can get it myself,” she said, sniffing at the rich smell of fresh brewed coffee. “Just point me to the cups.”

“Over here, ma’am,” the woman said, gesturing to a cupboard. Fernanda swung the heavy mahogany door open, pulled out an oversized ceramic mug, and then moved to the coffee pot.

She carried her drink out to the veranda, where Mosises and another, younger man, tall and handsome in a swarthy way, were sitting together at a round wooden table. The familial resemblance was immediately apparent as the young man got to his feet along with Mosises.

“Ah, our guest is up and about. Please. Sit. Fernanda, this is my son, Jaime. He is my right-hand man,” Mosises said. “I trust you slept well?”

“Yes, thank you,” Fernanda said as she shook hands with Jaime. “Pleased to meet you, Jaime.”

“The pleasure is all mine,” Jaime said with a small inclination of his head.

“Have a seat. We were just discussing your situation,” Mosises said, lowering himself into one of the wooden chairs gathered around the rough-hewn table.

Fernanda could almost feel Jaime’s eyes roaming over her figure as she took a seat. Her face gave nothing away, but she noted the interest. It was nothing unusual – being Brazilian she was used to the frank admiration of men, ever since she’d blossomed at thirteen, and she didn’t hold his reaction against him. Looking was free; but the most beautiful flowers usually had thorns to protect them, and Fernanda was no exception.

She sipped her coffee, the brew rich and strong, no doubt made from the plants lining the hill. Jaime did the same as Mosises – snipped the end from one of his ubiquitous cigars and sniffed it appreciatively before lighting it, puffed to ensure it was fully lit, and then placed it carefully into a clay ash tray in the center of the table.

Jaime cleared his throat and continued from where they’d been interrupted by her appearance. “We’ve deployed several dozen men and have put the word out to all the local police departments, offering a generous reward for any information leading to the capture of your targets,” he said. “Now it’s a matter of waiting for something to come back to us. It can take time for news to percolate through to the more remote locations, but they’re our best bet.”

“How did the search go? With the helicopter?” Fernanda asked.

“It’s underway as we speak. But it’s well over two hundred kilometers of coastline, most of it covered with jungle, so it will take time,” Jaime said, offering what Fernanda guessed he thought was a winning smile.

“My problem is that I have pressing issues that make finding them urgent,” Fernanda said.

“Which I fully appreciate, my dear, but we can only do so much,” Mosises said, his tone patronizing.

“That wasn’t why I hired you,” she fired back, annoyed.

Mosises eyes hardened and he took a long, contemplative pull on his cigar before answering, his voice soft but the menace unmistakable. “I’d remind you that it wasn’t me who came looking for help. I certainly wasn’t in the market to be hired. I did this because you were compelling in your request, and out of respect to my colleague in Panama. But hired?” He shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

Fernanda sat forward, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips. “I’m sorry, Mosises. Perhaps a poor choice of words. What I meant is that I came to you because I was assured that you controlled the Chocó and Darién regions, and that if anyone could help, it was you.”

Jaime cut in. “Which is correct. What my father was trying to convey was that it’s a huge area, and there are many scavengers who survive from fishing and by living off whatever drifts up on the beaches. If this lifeboat landed on these shores, it may have already been dismantled or towed away by one of these groups. It’s not as straightforward as patrolling the beach and reporting back. Would that it were.”

“I can appreciate that,” she acceded.

“Our best bet is that we get a tip,” Jaime explained. “By letting the right people know that we’re willing to pay for information, we’ve broadened our reach to thousands of villagers and fishermen, not only our handful of men. It’s the approach that’s most likely to bear fruit, because these little outposts are dirt poor, and a few hundred dollars is a small fortune to many of the police in the area.”

“Then all we can do is wait?”

“The helicopter won’t be done until this afternoon. I’m hopeful that it will spot something. If not, our insurance is the greed of the villagers.” Jaime sipped his coffee and sighed. “Betting on greed is always a safe approach.”

They sat in silence for several moments. Clouds of pungent smoke drifted from Mosises as he drew on his cigar. Eventually Jaime finished his coffee and pushed back from the table. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Fernanda. If you need anything while you’re a guest in my father’s house, don’t hesitate to ask,” he said, his gaze locking on hers.

She took in his strong jaw and obviously athletic physique and gave him a beaming smile. “I appreciate that, Jaime. It was nice meeting you, too.”

He slipped a card from his back pocket and handed it to her. “My cell is always on. Anything you need, I can take care of,” he reiterated. “Anything.”

Jaime bent down and gave his father a kiss on the cheek, retrieved his cigar from the ashtray, and then turned and strode into the house. Fernanda’s eyes followed him, noting the assurance in his step as well as the impeccable tailoring of his clothes. The rumors that the Colombian cocaine business was losing its financial appeal as consumption in the U.S. dropped had obviously not reached Mosises or Jaime.

Mosises regarded her with a wary expression and then sat back in his chair, smoking thoughtfully. “Don’t worry. If it can be done, he’ll do it. You just need to be patient. His network is second to none, and it would be almost impossible for anyone to hide for any length of time. Even though the jungle can seem like a place where anything goes, it’s actually fairly well traveled by the locals, and they’ll know if a gringo and a little girl appear in their midst.” Mosises glanced up at the sky, where a hawk was soaring above the valley, studying the land far below for unwary prey. He watched its deliberate glide and economical motion, only an occasional flap of wings to maintain or change its elevation, and smiled. “Have faith.”