The Power of Five Oblivion (44 page)

“The plane…”

“It’s not here, Matt. It left more than a week ago and it hasn’t come back.” Lohan tried to keep the anger out of his voice. The other slaves were trooping into the room, collapsing on their beds. Some of them were already asleep. “I don’t know what you saw in that dream of yours,” he went on. “But it was a mistake coming here.”

“The plane…”

“Didn’t you hear me?”

Lohan was gripping Matt by his shoulders, almost as if he wanted to shake some sense into him. But then he heard it. Matt wasn’t talking about the plane they had seen when they had arrived. There was another plane, approaching even as they spoke. Lohan looked up. There was a low humming in the air. It was still some distance away but it was getting closer all the time. The hum became a roar. The other prisoners looked up. It was right overhead. Lohan wanted to run out of the hut but he knew there was no point. He wouldn’t see anything in the darkness and there was a risk he might get shot. But he listened as the plane landed and knew that it had touched down on the runway that he had seen eight days before.

He turned back to Matt. Despite everything, the boy seemed to be a little more peaceful, as if he had somehow managed to prove a point. Lohan smoothed the bundle of rags that he had been using as a pillow beneath his head. “It’s OK,” he whispered. “We’re going to get out of here. We’ll try tonight.”

“No.” Matt was also whispering but his voice was strong. “Not tonight. Tomorrow morning. Need to be strong…”

“It’ll be easier when it’s dark.”

But Matt’s eyes had closed and Lohan saw that he had fallen asleep. For a long time he crouched there, looking at the unconscious figure. He seemed to be struggling, trying to come to some sort of decision. Finally he nodded, as if he had won a battle with himself.

He stretched out on the bed next to Matt and a few minutes later he too was asleep.

THIRTY-FOUR

Lohan woke up early. His body might have been exhausted but his mind was in turmoil and he opened his eyes long before the sun began to rise, the hut shrouded in darkness. He lay there for a long time, listening to the sounds around him. A few people were snoring, some whimpering in the grip of bad dreams. The mosquitoes were whining as usual. Outside, a dog barked a couple of times then yelped as it was kicked. The best thing was that as far as he could see, Matt was sleeping soundly. Perhaps it would help him. He might even find someone in that dreamworld of his to look after him. Somehow, Lohan knew that the next day was going to be their last at Serra Morte – no matter how it actually turned out.

It was strange but he still had no idea who actually owned or organized the gold mine. Who, in fact, was getting the gold? It could have been the Brazilian government – but then Brazil didn’t really have a government any more. Maybe it was the military or the drug lords. And what did they do with the gold when they got it? Presumably it was refined, melted down and traded in the international banks. Lying there as the light began to creep in, Lohan tried to imagine the men in suits weighing the bars in their hands, not thinking of the pain and misery that had produced it. He himself had bought bracelets and necklaces in the many gold markets in Hong Kong. He and his father had often traded in gold bars … it was more secure and less easy to trace than paper money. Had some of the gold produced here ever passed through his hands? If so, he was being punished for it now.

Outside, the klaxon sounded and there were the same, tired movements in the hut, the occupants rolling off their camp beds and readying themselves for the day’s work. Matt opened his eyes. Lohan examined him anxiously.

“Lohan…”

“How are you feeling?”

“I’m better. I’m OK.” Matt lifted himself onto one elbow. “I’m coming with you today.”

He was far from OK. Lohan could see that the fever hadn’t left him and he was so weak that he was swaying on his feet. But somehow the two of them made it outside, drank their water and ate their bean stew, crouching in the damp morning air.

“Matt…” Lohan began.

“I know,” Matt replied. “We have to make our move today.”

“When?”

“I’ll tell you.”

Lohan nodded, amazed that he was taking orders from a fifteen-year-old boy – and one who was barely able to stand.

The guards shouted their orders and team 1179
Verde
moved off. By now, Lohan recognized most of the faces of the prisoners who had been brought with him from the town of Jangada – but he knew none of their names and nothing of their histories. That was the way it worked at Serra Morte. Nobody trusted anybody and there was no point in making friends when you were all certain to die. Lohan snatched up a spade and a wooden pail for himself. He did the same for Matt, noticing with a sense of gloom that Matt was barely able to carry the weight.

Together they trudged the half a kilometre back to the pit, neither of them speaking, then stood there as the first workers began to climb down. Lohan glanced at Matt. They couldn’t go down the ladders. If there was going to be any chance of escape, it had to start here, while they were still at ground level.

“Move!” One of the guards had seen them hesitating. He was like all the others, anonymous in his khaki uniform with a machine gun cradled in his arms and a dog following him on a leash.

Matt turned to Lohan. “Take him out,” he said. For a moment Lohan thought he’d misheard. What was Matt saying? “Take him out…” He repeated the words.

“He has a dog,” Lohan muttered.

“I’ll take care of the dog.”

The rest of their team had already entered the pit, making their way down the ladders. Lohan looked around. There were no other guards nearby. Next to him, Matt closed his eyes and at that exact moment the dog whimpered and sat down. It had simply forgotten that it was meant to be ferocious. The guard looked down, puzzled, and that was enough for Lohan. He took two steps forward and struck out, the side of his hand driving into the man’s throat. All the anger of the last eight days was in the blow and the guard wasn’t just knocked out. He was killed instantly. Lohan didn’t care. He and Matt had committed themselves. The punishment for an attack on any guard was death. There could be no going back.

Some of the other workers had seen the exchange and were already backing away in terror, not wanting to share the blame. Matt and Lohan were standing on the very edge of the mine. The guard lay on the ground. The dog was sitting there, ignoring them. Matt took a deep breath and seemed to focus on something in the mid-distance. Lohan knew that Matt, like all five Gatekeepers, had powers that went beyond anything that was human and waited to see them in evidence now. Nothing happened. For a brief moment he thought that Matt was too weak, that his illness had neutralized him … in which case they were both dead. But then there was a tiny movement. One of the ladders inside the pit had come free and fallen away from the wall. It was followed by a second and then a third. As Lohan stared, the ladders began to tear themselves apart, the thick wood snapping, the pieces tumbling down. Nobody had been hurt. Matt had only chosen empty ladders. But the way down was rapidly becoming unreachable and all work searching for the gold flakes would come to a rapid halt.

Snap, snap, snap … The breaking wood reminded Lohan of Chinese firecrackers. There were soldiers everywhere, running to the edge of the mine and staring down. But Matt had only just started. He swung his head round and suddenly an entire stretch of the mine exploded, the huge mud walls folding in on themselves and plunging down. If anyone had been below, they would have been killed, crushed under the weight, but it was still early morning and the lower levels were empty. Lohan watched in disbelief. How many hundreds of tonnes of earth had the slaves at Serra Morte carried to the surface? In seconds, tonnes more of it had been returned. An entire cliff face had collapsed. A huge section of the mine had once again been filled in. And Matt was responsible. He had done it with a single movement of his head.

There was a brief silence, then confused shouting as the guards reacted to what had just happened. Now Lohan understood what Matt was doing. Nobody knew what had caused the collapse but right now nothing else mattered. He had just created an incredible diversion.

“Let’s go,” Matt whispered.

The effort had taken away what remained of his strength. Lohan could see that he was shaking, soaked in sweat. He put his arm around him and dragged him away. The other workers saw them move but not a single one of them tried to join them. That was what life in Serra Morte had done to them. They had reached the point where many of them would have been unable to tie their own shoelaces without being given the order. Their spirits had been broken. They were no longer really human.

With Lohan supporting Matt, the two of them hurried towards the path that would take them back to the landing strip. Matt was stumbling and if it hadn’t been for Lohan’s arm around his waist, he would have fallen. For his part, Lohan was hoping that nobody would see them, that all the soldiers would be concentrating on the devastation they had left behind – but, of course, it didn’t happen that way. Almost at once they were seen. Somebody shouted out a warning. It was followed by a single gunshot.

They didn’t stop. They couldn’t stop. They had attacked a guard and giving themselves up was no longer an option. The edge of the rainforest and possible safety were about twenty metres in front of them. Matt was forcing himself forward, leaning against Lohan. There was another shot and Lohan cursed himself for not taking the gun from the man he had killed. Even if they made it to the landing strip, the plane would be guarded and he couldn’t just walk up to it unarmed. And a second, grimmer thought crossed his mind. If he was captured, he would have been glad to have had a gun in his hand. He could have turned it on himself.

There was the shriek of a whistle, a burst of sustained gunfire. Lohan was still holding Matt, almost lifting him off the ground. Matt had no shirt and Lohan could feel the heat and the dampness of the boy’s skin. Matt’s legs were hardly working at all. Bullets were whipping around them and it occurred to Lohan that Matt must still be using his power. Otherwise, surely one of them would have been hit. The rainforest loomed in front of them. There were more shots and the leaves of the nearest trees were shredded. But then they were inside, letting the darkness and thick green light swallow them up. The commotion behind them was abruptly cut off. It was as if they had plunged into another dimension.

Within seconds, they were lost. The track that had first brought them to the work place was some distance away and there was no way they could reach it. The forest itself was too dense, too unwieldy. It alone would decide which direction they took. Lohan knew that they had to lose themselves in the interior, to get as far away from their pursuers as possible. They could worry about the airstrip later. Almost blindly, the two of them followed whatever paths they could find, twisting round the trunks of huge trees, climbing over the tangled roots that covered the ground, pushing through creepers that hung down like solid walls. There was no sound now except for their own tortured breathing. Matt stumbled and collapsed, his legs giving way beneath him. With a curse, Lohan swept him up in his arms, carrying him like a child. Matt’s eyes had closed. He didn’t seem to be conscious.

Lohan looked back, resting against a tree. At least it seemed that nobody was following them. Perhaps the soldiers had decided that the mine was more important than two escaping prisoners who would probably end up dying in the rainforest anyway. He realized that he had no idea where he was, that he had lost any sense of direction. Matt was heavy in his arms. He wouldn’t be able to continue for more than five or ten minutes and he had no food or water. A movement caught his eye and he weaved sideways as a huge spider with a red and furry back scuttled down the trunk of the tree. If he hadn’t moved, it would have bitten him. And what then? A fast, painful death for him. Matt left on his own. The rainforest would cover them over and neither of them would ever be found again.

He continued forward as far as he could, then set Matt down on his own feet. “Can you stand?” he asked.

Matt opened his eyes and nodded.

“We have to find the landing strip. And when we get there, I’m going to need your help. Do you understand me? You have to open the gates … like you did at the mine. And get rid of the guards.”

Matt nodded a second time. “I can do that.” His voice was little more than a whisper. “Don’t leave me, Lohan.”

“I won’t do that.”

How had he known? Even as they had stumbled through the rainforest, Lohan had thought about dropping Matt and continuing on his own. Why not? It was how he had always been trained. His first responsibility was to look after himself and Matt was slowing him down. He had only kept faith with Matt because he needed his powers – but if Matt lost consciousness a second time, Lohan had already made up his mind. The two of them weren’t friends. They had been thrown together by chance. At the end of the day, it was each to his own.

They pressed forward, Matt somehow managing to keep going. Lohan was certain that the airstrip was somewhere over to the left but the vegetation kept forcing him to go in the opposite direction and he knew it would only waste his strength to push his way through. He wished more than anything that he could have equipped himself with a machete. A bird hooted overhead. During all the time they had worked at the pit, they had never seen a bird in flight but the rainforest was full of them. Something moved in the undergrowth and Lohan remembered the spider. He thought of the snakes, of the screams he had heard in the night. They were still going the wrong way. The rainforest was playing tricks on them, leading them ever further into its embrace. The path behind had gone. It was as if the trees and the vegetation had closed in on them, deliberately preventing them from finding their way back.

And then came the sound they had both dreaded most. Somebody shouted. The soldiers hadn’t seen them yet but they were close. How many of them were there? It was impossible to say in the green nightmare in which they found themselves, but one thing was certain. The soldiers would know the rainforest better than they did. They might have dogs with them. It wouldn’t take them long to track the two prisoners down.