The Darkest Heart (22 page)

My friend was dying and I had to do whatever I could.

I looked over my shoulder at Leonardo and saw him standing behind us, aiming his pistol, and my whole body screamed with the frustration of being so helpless.

‘Don't do anything to annoy him,' I said to Daniella. ‘He's in pain and he's snorting
cocaína –
it's making him edgier than hell.'

‘Cocaína?'

‘Yeah. He's probably itching to kill someone, so just ... just don't piss him off, OK?'

Daniella nodded.

‘Stay with the old man and keep an eye on Rocky. Keep her with you.' I left them kneeling on the deck and went to the wheel. I wanted to help him, put him somewhere more comfortable, but without a pilot, the boat would drift onto a sandbank or hit something worse.

‘You sure you know what you're doing?' Leonardo asked, keeping his weapon trained on me. ‘This isn't some kind of trick?' He was uncomfortable with the way things were going and I tried to put myself in his position, wonder what I would do, but none of
the scenarios played out well in my mind. They all ended with someone dying, and in none of them was it Leonardo. For the time being, he was in charge.

I turned the wheel, the
Deus
chugging out into the deep water again, and set her straight before going back to Raul and helping him to his feet. I placed my hands under his armpits and dragged him up, throwing his once powerful arm over my shoulder to support him as he struggled to the bow where he could sit with Daniella and catch his breath.

Raul stopped and nodded, telling me he was strong enough, he could walk on his own, but as soon as I loosened my grip, he stumbled, his knees giving in. ‘Let me help you, old man,' I said. ‘We'll get you over here. Sit down and rest a minute. After that, you can take the wheel again if you want.'

Raul resigned himself to my insistence and allowed me to take the weight of his body and help him to the bench. He slumped onto the hard, unfinished wooden surface and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. ‘It's getting worse.' he said. ‘Every part of me hurts.'

‘You look like shit,' said Leonardo.

‘I'II get you some water.' I went to the cool box, a bright red plastic chest, the outer casing cracked down one side. The ice was long since melted and the bottles were warm, but they would do, so I brought one back to Raul. Leonardo followed all of my movements, so I tried to ignore him as I opened the top and handed the bottle to the old man.

Raul sat up to take it, feeling it, tasting it before it was even in his hands.

‘Did you hurt your arms when you fell?' I asked.

‘Hm?'

‘Your arms. You hurt them?'

‘No.'

‘So what about the bruises?'

The old man turned his arms over so he could look at the soft underside. Two large marks, one on either arm, had appeared just below his elbows. They pointed away to his wrists. He rubbed
them against his damp shirt and looked at them again, but the yellowish-black marks were still there.

‘They're bruises, old man, they're not going to come off.'

Raul continued to look at them, trying to work out how they might have got there. ‘Must've been when I was climbing onto the boat. Maybe I bumped them or something.'

‘Maybe.'

‘Well. Doesn't matter.' He took a deep drink from the bottle of water and kept his head back as the liquid went into him. ‘I've had bruises before.' He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

‘Sure you have.' I nodded.

‘Filho da puta,'
I heard Leonardo say. ‘You want to control this damn boat?'

I looked up and saw that we were, once again, drifting towards the bank where it cut straight down into the water. A wall of hard red dirt, baked until cracked, tufts of yellow scrub and tree roots breaking through. The river was easing into a gentle curve and the
Deus
was nosing straight towards collision.

‘Do it now.' Leonardo's voice carried more than a hint of fear.

‘Look after Raul,' I told Daniella as I got to my feet and went to take the wheel, seeing that we were almost at a right angle in the river, heading directly for a sandy bank protruding from the water.

I straightened the
Deus
, but kept one eye on Raul who was sitting up now, sipping the water.

My old friend was the strongest man I had ever known. His powerful body, his thickened skin, his easy temperament made him the perfect creature for this life. I had never seen him unwell or weakened, but the fever that plagued him now was worsening, and the bruising on his arms worried me. It was possible he had knocked himself climbing into the boat, but that only happened a short while ago, and I'd never seen bruises appear so quickly. Seeing him deteriorate like this, his body marking and bruising, I felt a tightening in my stomach. I'd seen dengue fever cause bruising like this before, and the outcome for those people was never good. I had to get him home. I had to do whatever it would
take to return him to Piratinga where someone could take care of him.

‘Thought you'd keep this to yourself?' Leonardo leaned across me and slipped his hand beneath the wheel.

Disturbed from my thoughts, I started to move. Not so much thinking as reacting, I knew what Leonardo was doing and I tried to block him. My body acting before my mind was telling it to, as if the two were separate, each protecting the other. I understood that Leonardo had seen Raul's revolver beneath the wheel and I tried to reach it before he did, but I felt the jab of his automatic in my ribs and I looked down to see it there, the hammer already back, ready to drop down.

‘Too slow, Zico.' Leonardo made a tutting sound and pulled Raul's revolver from its securing. ‘Just in case, eh? I should have known there'd be another one somewhere.' He tossed it over the side of the boat so it landed in the water with a hollow plop and was gone, then he pushed his pistol hard enough to take my breath away. He forced it against my ribs as if trying to push it between them and leaned his sweating face close to mine. ‘Anything else I should know about?'

‘No.' I could have told him that I had forgotten about the pistol, that I hadn't known it was there, but there wasn't any point.

‘You sure about that?' He pushed the pistol harder.

‘Yes.'

‘Well, just so you know, if I have to shoot someone today, the first person is going to be your girlfriend over there.' He nodded his head at Daniella who was watching the old man with concern. ‘The old man, I think he's going to die without my help, but her I could assist. It would be a shame, though, she's very pretty.'

‘You don't have to shoot anybody.'

‘We'll see,' Leonardo said, standing and going to sit beside Daniella, the gun still in his hand.

She didn't look at him as he sat down beside her, but he smiled at me and used the barrel of his pistol to brush some of her loose hairs aside.

As he did it, though, something in Daniella changed. I saw it on
her face, right away. Her fear for Raul changed in an instant, and her fiery temperament got the better of her. She shoved Leonardo's gun away and pushed to her feet, startling Rocky who leaped up in surprise, baring her teeth and growling deep in her throat.

‘Daniella ...' I started to say, but Leonardo was quick. He grabbed her wrist in his free hand, pulling her round so she was facing him. But something in Daniella had snapped and her fire had risen to the surface. She struck out with her right hand, punching Leonardo across the jaw. It was unfocused but took him by surprise, turning his head, a loud slap of flesh on flesh.

Confused, Rocky didn't know what to do. Her loyalty was to the old man, but she knew Daniella and me and she sensed the threat from Leonardo. Her growl deepened and she lowered her head and began to bark at him.

Ignoring the dog, Daniella drew back her hand to hit Leonardo again, but he raised his pistol and jammed the barrel under her chin, forcing her head back. ‘I'll blow your fucking brains out the top of your head,' he hissed.

I had started to stand, my fingers reaching for the handle of my knife, but now I stopped, paused halfway between sitting and standing.

Rocky continued to make that noise; somewhere between a bark and a growl. It was a savage, primal sound and it raised the hairs on the back of my neck.

‘And shut that dog up.' Leonardo's pitch heightened. His eyes were wild, his muscles tensed.

The old man was speaking to Rocky, but his voice was weak and she was working herself into a frenzy.

‘Make it stop. Make it stop!' Leonardo was losing control of himself, too, the drugs and fear and anger reaching bursting point.

Rocky's lips were curled back, her vicious teeth clicked together each time her mouth snapped shut, and her eyes were rolling back in her head. Her attention was focused on Leonardo and she looked as if she might attack him at any moment.

‘It's all right, girl,' the old man was trying to say. ‘It's all right.'
He put his hand on her, but she was only agitated further by Leonardo's shouting and the smell of his fear.

With the pistol pressed under Daniella's chin, I couldn't let this continue. The slightest twitch from Leonardo would kill her.

‘Rocky!' I shouted at her. ‘Stop!'

But Leonardo had already decided to take action. He turned his pistol on Rocky and shot at her.

Daniella had sensed the loosening of his grip, though, and she moved against him, disturbing his aim so the bullet went wide, clipping the top of the gunwale and zipping out across the river. As Leonardo corrected his balance and levelled the pistol once more, the old man called Rocky's name and tried to stand. His muscles were racked with the pain of his fever, though, and his joints burned from whatever demon coursed through him.

He fell to his knees on the deck as Rocky rushed to him, startled by the gunshot. Her ears were flat against her head and her tail was tucked between her legs. Gathering her in his arms, the old man touched his head to Rocky's and spoke her name over and over again. He held her tight and looked up at Leonardo. ‘Please,' he said. ‘Don't.'

Daniella tugged her hand from Leonardo's and went to the old man, going to her knees beside him.

‘Stay where you are,' Leonardo ordered as he stepped back and turned his gun on me.

‘I'm not going anywhere.' I put out my hands, fingers spread. ‘Just calm down. No more shooting.'

He turned the gun on Daniella and the old man once more, before bringing it back to bear on me, as if he were deciding who to kill first.

‘No more shooting,' I said again. ‘You're in charge; we'll do whatever you say. Let them go back to the wheelhouse. The dog will stay there.'

Leonardo thought about it, the gun still switching from me to them and back again.

‘Daniella can tie up the dog,' I said. ‘Please. Just don't kill her.'

Leonardo took a deep breath and clenched his jaw tight before
nodding once. He turned to Daniella and spoke through gritted teeth. ‘Do it. If it gets loose, I'll kill it.'

‘Thank you,' the old man whispered as Daniella helped him to his feet. She kept the dog close as she brought him back to the wheelhouse and settled him on the seat behind the wheel. Rocky jumped up beside him and Daniella tied one end of a piece of narrow rope around her neck, securing the other end to one of the struts holding the canopy in place. Once that was done, she took the wheel and steered us straight in the river.

When I turned to face Leonardo, standing on the opposite side of the bow, he sniffed hard and pointed his pistol at me.

‘If you shoot me,' I said, ‘there'll be no one to pilot this boat for you.'

Leonardo thought for a moment, then shrugged and shifted his aim so the pistol was pointing to the wheelhouse. ‘Come and sit beside me, Daniella.'

She looked at me, then rose to her feet and came back to the bow.

‘Sit,' Leonardo said.

Daniella sat on the box seat, hatred clear in her eyes.

Leonardo put the gun against her ribs. ‘Are we going to have a problem about this?' He stared right at me.

I looked over at Daniella and then at the old man sitting behind the wheel. The two people who meant more to me than anything else on earth. More, even, than my own life.

Leonardo knew my weakness just as Costa knew it.

‘No,' I said. ‘No.'

30

Approaching the mouth of the Rio das Mortes, the sky began to darken. The sun was shimmied from the sky by brooding clouds building behind us, their shadow falling over all below them.

Raul was slumped beside me, useless and weakened by his fever, as good as dead, as far as piloting the
Deus
was concerned. His eyes were closed as though sleeping and I could only imagine how he must be feeling. Beside him, Rocky stayed quiet as if she understood how ill her friend was.

Daniella watched the old man, shifting her gaze to look at me from time to time, and whenever our eyes met, I smiled at her, nodded or winked or found some other way to reassure her that we were going to be all right. Beside her, leaning back against the gunwale, watching her like a snake, Leonardo kept his pistol to hand.

I felt confident that I could take us onto the Rio das Mortes, manage at least a few kilometres before nightfall, but the sky was blackening as if a storm were approaching, and with rain over our heads, I wasn't so sure. The way it came down out here was like nothing I'd ever seen anywhere else. Sometimes it was so hard, it was impossible to stay outside, the water driving down like nails. If the rain came as hard as it had the day before yesterday – and I was sure it would – then I was certain it would stop our journey. Even Raul, with all his experience, took the boat to the shallows when he sensed the rain coming.

In weather like that, the water would chop, stirring all kinds of debris from the depths, eroding sections of the shore that would slip into the river. Small sandbanks could rise where there had
once been none, visibility would be reduced to almost nothing, and it would be easy for the
Deus e o Diabo
to become marooned on a newly grown formation or drift from her course and veer towards land.