The Chosen (15 page)

Monica and her crew disappeared back into the submarine, taking their tools with them. They looked as if they were climbing into the gaping mouth of the thing, then the hatch closed up behind them.

“Well, this is . . .”

“Comfortable?” Remington suggested.

“Yes. I suppose,” China replied, but the greenish tint to her skin suggested she wasn’t pleased with their transportation.

“A damn sight better than walking, that’s all I know.”

She nodded stiffly in agreement, but her lips were pressed together tightly.

“And you’ve got to be glad to be off the submarine.”

Her eyes met his. “Yes.” Her tone was resolute. “Yes, I am glad of that.”

Up ahead was a wall of green. The vegetation soared upward, taller than any building Remington had ever seen. The massive trees knit together into a solid canopy of green. A sudden sinking feeling hollowed out the pit of his stomach. When Diego had said this mission was impossible, he’d been generous. This wasn’t finding a needle in a haystack, it was more like finding a particular grain of sand at the bottom of the ocean.

“How the hell are we supposed to find anything in that?”

China lifted her chin, her eyes narrowing. “You don’t feel it?”

Remington glanced at her. “What?”

“The pull right about here.” She placed her hand on the flat of her stomach.

“Are you sure it’s a sense of direction and not just hunger?”

China rolled her eyes. “Very funny. And before you ask, it isn’t a female condition either.”

Remington shrugged. He had been thinking of that, but had sense enough not to comment. “Well as long as we have a map, how about we use that instead of your instincts?” He slipped the map carefully out from between the pages of the codex and unfolded it.

China closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, as if scenting the air. She pointed, then opened her eyes. “It’s that way.” She glanced back at him, her finger still extended. “Are you sure you don’t feel anything?”

He just shook his head. Oh, he felt plenty—just nothing to do with the location of this fabled forbidden entrance. He wasn’t about to tell her about the hot tight sensation she created in him every time he looked at her, especially after the incident in the submarine. He wasn’t about to tell her his fingertips tingled just thinking of the hot silk texture of her skin. Remington double-checked the map. The direction she pointed in was the right way. He adjusted his hold on the levers of the machine into a more comfortable position.

“Well let’s get going. We don’t have much time to find Elwin’s piece of the Book.”

Armed with the map, they struggled through the jungle. Remington had been right about the Spider Walker’s offering them a distinct advantage in this terrain. The dense canopy of the jungle turned the sky overhead a mix of green and vibrant points of orange, brilliant pink, and yellow from the exotic flowers that seemed to grow on spindly stems and dangle from the very branches of the lush vegetation.

The stifling humidity made everything slick with a layer of moisture. Beads of water dropped from the leaves and streaked the glass dome of the Spider Walker, making visibility difficult. Inside the pod, the air was stifling, thick, and cloying, making it a challenge to breathe without feeling as if she were drowning.

China pushed back the damp strands of hair sticking to her forehead and throat, blowing out a heavy sigh. She plucked at her damp clothing, but it just sucked back down to her skin the instant she let go.

Monkeys chattered and howled, jumping from branch to branch to follow their noisy progress through the trees.

China watched it all with a kind of detached interest. She was trying hard to focus in on the small tug in the center of her gut, knowing it was a way to double-check the map until they reached their goal. But pressed into the confines of the Spider Walker control pod with Remington, concentrating was damned difficult, if not impossible. The odor of Bay Rum had long since faded from his skin, leaving him with clean sweat and male musk.

Remington’s skin was shiny with perspiration, and his white shirt was transparent as it stuck to his damp skin. She could see the curvature of his shoulder and biceps as he worked the levers. The uneven terrain required his constant attention as he adjusted the eight individual legs of the machine.

China tried hard not to think about what he looked like without his shirt on at all. The damp fabric clung enough to give her an intense flash of memory of how his back had looked, bronzed skin poured over his well-sculpted physique, when he’d removed his shirt the day before to haul water for the boilers. She squirmed against the insistent throb that she got whenever she remembered their interrupted moment on the submarine too vividly. China crossed her legs and squeezed.

“Why does it have to be so damn hot in this thing?” she muttered a little breathlessly, fanning herself with her hand. It did no good to assuage the throbbing sensation and only circulated the humid air.

“Look, we’ve gotten much farther than we would have on foot. Another day and we’ll be in Veracruz province.”

He was right, of course. But that did little to stem the ache in the small of her back or untie the knots in her legs caused by the continual wobbling, clanking stride of the Spider Walker as it clamored over obstacles. Even with the glass dome, the machine was too small of a confined space for a shifter. The only time they’d taken a break was to replenish the water in the boiler tank. Remington had even insisted they sleep during the last two nights in the contraption for safety’s sake.

“I need out of this thing.”

Remington glanced at her. “We’ll stop in an hour.”

China glanced at the dials on the control panel. “We need more water anyway. Besides, I have to make a stop.” She fidgeted a little in her seat to prove her point.

“Fine. Just let me get to that sandy clearing up ahead.”

Small rivulets wove through the jungle, trickling and merging here and there into larger streams. She suspected this had once been a bed for one of those streams that had diverted elsewhere, maybe because of an enormous downed tree or some other natural obstacle. Remington could stop this machine anywhere he wished as long as he let her out for a respite of the heat—both the weather and the internal heat he generated without even being aware of it.

He pulled back a lever on the control panel, and the machine slowed to a crawl then stopped. He unlatched and pushed open the glass dome. She shimmied down the metal foot pegs in the spider’s front leg until she reached the ground and took her first deep breath of fresh air in hours. Sure the machine had bellows that puffed in air from outside, but somehow it wasn’t the same. It had a metallic taste to it.

Outside the sweet scent of orchids perfumed the air and competed with the moldy odor of decaying vegetation. China gave a relieved sigh and stretched, just happy to be out of the machine and to wiggle her toes in the earth.

Until her feet began to sink.

The soft, wet soil swelled up around her ankles. She tried to take a step and found it to be a sucking pull that wouldn’t let go. “Remington?”

“I’m coming. Just let me get the Blaster and our packs.” He insisted that any time they left the machine to gather water, food, or take care of other necessities, they take protection with them. But she was sinking fast and couldn’t wait.

“Remington! Something about this ground isn’t right.” She looked up at him and saw that the Spider Walker was listing to one side, and he was holding on as it tilted. The ground had risen—or had she sunk?—to around her calves.

“It’s quicksand!” The worry in his voice only made the situation worse.

While she’d heard tales of it, she’d never actually seen it before. “Are you sure?”

“The Walker is sinking, isn’t it?” His tone, clipped and impatient, irritated her.

“So am I!” she added indignantly, annoyed he hadn’t noticed.

He pulled a length of rope from the pack on his back and quickly formed a lasso, which he flung at a nearby tree branch. The lasso snagged tightly on the limb, and the rope vibrated with the tension as he rappelled down the length of the spider leg still well above the quicksand and held out his hand to her.

She reached for his hand, but only her fingertips skimmed his. He was just out of reach. Panic welled up in her throat, making it hard to breathe, and the more she struggled, the tighter grip the viscous wet sand took on her, sucking her down to her thighs.

“Come on, grab hold of me!”

It wasn’t as if she weren’t trying, dammit! She closed her eyes, letting her body grow warm, and imagined her arm stretching out like a monkey’s, long and lean. Muscle and sinew pulled, and she felt the hard clasp of Remington’s hand around hers.

“Relax and let me guide you to the edge where you can crawl out.”

One hand on her, one hand on the rope, he hopped down from the leg of the spider toward the base of the tree he was leashed to.

The quicksand had worked its way up to her waist, and she tried to relax, just as he’d said. The hard pull of the ground on her subsided. He hauled her up and out of the quicksand, and for a moment they both lay on the ground breathing hard.

Blup . . . blup . . . blup.
Bubbles rose and burst on the surface of the quicksand as the Spider Walker sank farther. It was half buried now in the muck, only two of its legs visible and the entire abdomen of the spider submerged.

Remington cursed beneath his breath. “There’s no way we’ll get it out now. Marley is going to have my hide for losing it.”

China sighed. “Even if you did get it out, it would never work right again. All that sand, grit, and water in the mechanics will freeze it solid.”

“At least I saved this.” He reached into his pack and pulled out the Blaster.

China hugged him hard around the neck. “A man after my own heart.”

 

 

The press of her body against him was welcome. He’d damn well been thinking about it two out of every four seconds round the clock since they’d climbed onto the deck of the submarine two days ago. But there was a fine line between doing what was desired and what was necessary.

And while Remington desired a great many things, and often bent the rules to his favor, he always did what was necessary first. Lives depended upon it.

This was no different. The search for Elwin’s piece of the Book had to come first, before any personal agenda. He stood up and climbed the tree to retrieve the rope, then coiled it neatly back together and stuffed it into the pack, which he heaved onto his back.

“You wanted plenty of fresh air. Now you have it,” he commented dryly. “Let’s push on.”

Down on the ground the vegetation the Spider Walker had seemed to glide over was a daunting barrier to movement. One didn’t walk through it; one inched.

Remington dug deep into his pack and pulled out the blade gauntlet Marley had suggested he carry with him at all times. As with all of Marley’s inventions, there was a fifty-fifty chance the first time you used it that it would either perform better than expected, or maim a piece of you. Since the gauntlet had proven its use against the viperanox without damaging him somehow, he was happy to use it again.

The device had a brown leather glove, reinforced along the back with articulated metal plates that extended into a set of leather bands encasing his forearm. A lethal machete blade of sharp Toledo steel, locked between the layers of leather, extended over the top of his hand, making it perfect for hacking away at anything that got in his way—be it Darkin or in this case the thick swaths of wide leaves and dense vines that made walking in the jungle nearly impossible.

“You’d better stand back.”

China didn’t argue; she took two paces back, paused, then took two more.

With a loud series of grunts punctuating his swings, Remy hacked and hewed at the foliage, creating a path for them through the understory. His arm, shoulder, and back began to burn with the effort. Sweat plastered his hair to his head and trickled in a stream down his back, turning his clothing into a sauna. He didn’t want to admit it, but China had been right. This explorer’s uniform was a pain in the ass, and he looked like an idiot.

He paused long enough to shuck off the pith helmet and linen shirt, leaving him clad in jodhpurs and boots. Only the boots were worth a damn in this climate and the jacket had been lost when the Spider Walker sank.

“Do you mind putting these in the pack?” A small, cat-like, knowing smile curved her lush mouth. She didn’t say I told you so, because she didn’t have to. He could tell she was just a bit too pleased with herself for being right.

Four hours later he was sore, sullen, and exhausted. There was no way they were going to make it to Veracruz in time like this.

 

 

“Do you mind hurrying this along a bit? At this rate it’s going to take us months to reach the temple.”

Remington turned around and glared at her. “Fine. You think you can do better? Here you go.”

He unlatched the machete from his leather gauntlet and slid it out, handing it to her.

China stared for a moment at the blade, then set her chin, gritted her teeth, and snatched it out of his hand. Her arm jolted straight down at the sudden and unexpected weight of the machete. He threw her a triumphant look, which only fueled her determination more.

She let the transition take her, shaping and molding her body, her spine growing curved and longer, her arms stretching down to the ground, and the hairs on her body growing into a dense, thick pelt. She breathed for a moment after she’d changed, and the air smelled different, somehow greener. She could smell ripe bananas and mangoes, breadfruit, and the other edibles in the forest ahead. But she wasn’t here to eat.

She turned back and grunted at Remington. His eyes were wide, and he’d stepped back a pace.

“I didn’t know you could change into a giant monkey.”

China huffed and grunted at him. She was a gorilla. Surely he knew the difference. In her thick black hand the machete now seemed like a toy. She whacked and slashed at the pathway before them, ripping down the limbs and small saplings that she couldn’t shove easily past.

What she couldn’t hack down with the blade she snapped in her massive hands or trampled. Moving through the jungle was vastly easier in this form than as a human.

The jungle seemed to part around her, like prairie grasses before the wind, offering little resistance to her force. But regardless of their progress, the air was stifling with both heat and humidity, and the dense fur on her body only amplified the discomfort.

She quickly tired, and was so thirsty she thought she might expire on the spot. But as tired as she was, she didn’t want to change back into the dress that hampered her movements.

Still, being a gorilla wasn’t all that wonderful. She was hungry, horribly hungry, and the thought of food drove her mad.

China tossed the machete to the ground, letting her body transform back into its usual shape once more.

“Had enough?” Remington teased.

“At least I bested your time by a half hour,” she threw back at him.

Remington frowned. “I think it’s about time for us to eat.” He glanced around.

“What are you doing, looking for hams hangin’ from the trees?”

“Not ham, fruit.” He pointed upward. “Does that look edible to you?”

China took a deep draft of air into her lungs. Her stomach rumbled. Her gorilla sense of smell still hadn’t completely faded. “Smells good enough to eat. And the monkeys seem to like it.”

Remington pulled off his pack, snatched the machete from the ground, clamped the blade between his teeth, and began climbing the tree. He looked like a pirate. The muscles in his back gleamed with sweat, and without his shirt China had a great view of him. Monkeys chattered and screamed, swinging wildly through the branches as he came closer to the fruit. China backed up a step, then another, tilting her head to try to get a better view as he climbed higher.

He whacked at a branch, taking off a cluster of the round, brownish fruit with his machete, and held it high. “Ready? Catch!”

China walked a few more steps backward, holding up her arms to catch the falling fruit. Suddenly the ground disappeared beneath her feet, and she was the one falling. “Remington!” she screamed, thrashing wildly as her stomach swooped up into her chest and the darkness closed in around her.