When the Singing Stops (33 page)

Madi clapped her hands. ‘It's a movie set!'

Flushed and hot from the long walk they stripped off and waded into the cool pool, splashing and singing in delight.

They sat under the falls and let the needles of water tingle on their heads, they held their breath and swam along the sandy bottom to pop up in the foaming bubbles where the waterfall hit the pool. They floated and drifted, not thinking, just being. Two children at play.

They lay naked in the dappled sun to dry. Connor picked an armful of flowers and scattered them around and over Madi's lean firm body, placing orchids over her nipples and belly button.

They crushed the flowers as they made love on the carpet of blooms, a rich earthy smell of nectar and petals rubbing into their skin.

They ate their lunch and, after one more swim, reluctantly packed up. ‘Let's explore a little way at the back of the falls before we head back,' suggested Madi.

So they climbed up the side of the falls and in fifteen minutes had a wonderful view from
the top, looking down to the gully, to the distant strip of river where they'd left the boat.

They wandered through open country that had tall straight trees where no canopy closed over them while natural trails wandered through clearings and low undergrowth.

They were about to turn back when Connor touched Madi's arm and put his finger to his lips. ‘Ssh, what's that?'

‘What?' Madi had been humming with her thoughts far away.

Then she too heard the distant buzz. ‘That's no insect, that's a damned chainsaw,' she said.

‘Now who would be working up here, do you suppose?' said Connor.

‘I'll tell you who. Illegal loggers,' said Madi. ‘They do terrible damage in so many ways. The big companies obey the rules and appear to do the right thing in their allocated areas, yet they've made it known they'll buy illegal logs at the back door. These people destroy so much, felling trees improperly, dragging them out haphazardly, they pollute the rivers, cause erosion. They're pirates, Connor.'

He blinked at her vehement outburst. ‘How do you know all this stuff?'

‘That's what happens with these fly-by-nighters, although some of them make a full-time living from raiding the forest. Pieter is concerned at the species of trees they take and how they break up eco systems and destroy plants.'

‘Ah, your plant friend.'

‘Listen, I think we should see what's going on and get Lester to send word back to the Amerindians. They report them to the authorities as well as sending out their own little vigilante groups.'

Connor looked dubious. ‘Sounds a bit risky. We can only give them a rough idea of the location.'

‘Connor, it won't hurt to get closer, that's got to be less than two kilometres away. Let's see what they've been up to without them seeing us.' Madi started out towards the sound of the distant saw.

‘You want to play cowboys . . . but we're not getting close to them,' warned Connor.

They walked for an hour, picking their way through the jungle, and then came across a recently used track. While the sound of the chainsaw was still distant, they realised they were approaching some sort of camp. They crossed a large clearing and then caught sight of a tent and a hammock.

‘Stay in the trees and we'll circle round,' whispered Connor.

‘I don't think there's anyone there,' said Madi.

‘Well then, let's go back.'

‘What for, we haven't seen anything yet. If we're this close we might as well see what's going on,' hissed Madi.

‘If you don't think there's anyone there, why are you whispering?'

They kept to the scrubby growth between
the scattered trees and then, before they realised how close they were, they were facing a clearing and a camp area. Madi and Connor stopped beside trees that screened them from sight.

There were several crude huts, a cooking area and a pile of logs. There was a small loader with chains attached to it that was used for dragging up the logs. Connor peered at the logs. ‘They look hollow,' he whispered.

‘Rubbish, what would be the point. Okay, I've seen enough, let's go.'

‘Wait. I hear voices.' Connor motioned her to be still and silent.

A group of men came into the clearing and went to one of the huts and unlocked a padlock. Connor and Madi exchanged a glance of surprise. Why would anyone need a padlock out here?

A man who looked to be Indian emerged a few minutes later carrying white plastic bags. He tossed them to another two men who squatted by one of the logs and began stuffing the packages into the log, using a pole to push them into the centre. It became clear it was a hiding place as a plug of wood was rammed into the opening, disguising the hollow log.

Madi turned to Connor and raised an eyebrow, a nervous twitch starting in her belly. He mouthed one word at her. ‘Drugs.'

They were afraid to move, fearful of attracting attention. They stood there, motionless, barely breathing, in the speckled light of half shade, hoping the men would move away.

The men filled three logs in the same manner, one standing back and checking that the wooden plug looked in place. When they'd finished, they talked together and turned around to go back into the forest on the far side where the sawing had just stopped.

In the brief silence that followed there was the unmistakable low groan and creak of a tree beginning the slow motion fall to its death.

Connor nodded to Madi and took her hand. ‘Let's get out of here.'

They turned and took four or five hurried, tiptoeing steps, when a man stepped out in front of them. He held a gun which he levelled at them and spoke calmly. ‘Stop right there, please.'

He was solid, round and muscular and the first impression that leapt to Connor's mind was that a fight was out of the question because this man was built like a brick wall. He was a pale-skinned man whose dark bushy eyebrows joined above his nose, a beard bristled like wire around his jaw and he had tombstone teeth with gaps between them. He would have been intimidating enough without the revolver.

Madi gave a start and caught her breath, tightening her grip on Connor's hand.

‘What the hell are you doing?' demanded Connor. ‘Don't wave that thing at us, we're just bushwalking.'

The man gave a short laugh. ‘Yes? What bad luck. You have just bushwalked into trouble.'

He lifted the gun into the air and fired a shot
before swiftly pointing the gun at Madi. Connor tried to weigh his chances of grabbing the gun or distracting the man. If he got Madi to run and he leapt at the man . . . but he quickly pushed the idea away as he realised the risk to Madi. And by now the other men were running towards them.

‘Walk.' The man with the gun motioned them to move. Connor put his arm around Madi as they headed towards the huts, followed by the man with the gun still aimed at their backs.

‘Don't worry, Madi,' was all Connor managed to say.

Madi bit her lip and the knot in her stomach rolled over. ‘I'm scared, Connor. I can't help it.'

There was shouting and questions as the men reached them and Connor realised that he too was scared. He was frantically trying to think, his stomach knotted in fear and urgency. How was he to protect Madi in this situation? The odds were totally stacked against them. They had stumbled across and seen a drug operation in action by undoubtedly one of the infamous South American drug cartels. He knew their lives would be worthless in these circumstances. Such men wouldn't be interested in ransom either.

Two of them grabbed Connor. The man with the gun grasped Madi's elbow and she squealed in fright. ‘Let us go, you stupid bastards,' shouted Connor, ‘we're only on a picnic. We don't care what you're doing.'

‘Oh, and what are we doing, sir?'

Connor gaped at the man. ‘I don't know, cutting down trees, who cares?' Connor's flippancy had a desperate air.

The men conferred and several gave a cynical laugh. Then two men took a grip on Connor and Madi and pushed them towards one of the huts.

‘What are you doing! Let go of me,' shrieked Madi, trying to twist her arm from the man's iron grip. Frantically she looked at Connor.

‘Don't panic, Madi, just wait. It'll be all right.' Connor tried to sound calm but was feeling utterly helpless. Madi threw him a wild look as she was shoved into the hut followed by Connor.

The door slammed shut, the bolt scraped and the padlock clicked.

After bright light, the gloom was disorienting. Madi rattled the door, shaking it as hard as she could. A sob rose in her throat.

Connor gently moved her away from the door. ‘Don't waste your energy, Madi. Come here.'

He wrapped his arms about her and she fell against his chest, breaking into frightened sobs. Connor smoothed her hair, muttering words he hoped would sound comforting and help camouflage the helplessness and fear that threatened to overwhelm him. They clung together in the stuffy dim hut, the happy bright day of adventuring lost to them.

T
ime slowed, seemed to stop, and in the lull between reality and the dream-like state Madi had sunk into, all she could do was hang on to Connor as they sat on the dirt floor of the little hut.

Chinks of light crept through the old boards and the air seemed to drop onto their skin like a foul damp blanket.

‘What time is it now?'

‘Five minutes since you last asked,' said Connor.

‘What do you suppose is going to happen?'

‘Let's just hope they go away and leave us, thinking no one will find us.'

‘They won't.' Madi's voice was flat and dispirited.

‘Lester knows we came to the falls, he'll start looking for us. Listen, let's see if we have anything to eat.' Trying to distract her, Connor groped for the small backpacks they'd been wearing when pushed into the hut. ‘A few dry biscuits seem to be all that's left,' he said ruefully.

Madi suddenly fumbled for the clasp of her pack and felt inside, pulling out her small wooden frog. She pushed it into her bra next to her heart and leaned against Connor wondering if the frog really was a lucky talisman.

‘Do you suppose they're part of a big drug ring or just loggers smuggling as a sideline,' wondered Madi.

Connor spoke softly. ‘By the look of those bags of stuff, that's a big haul. I would say this is a pretty massive operation.'

‘That looks bad for us then.'

‘This place doesn't look very permanent, maybe they use different locations which means if they leave us here we won't be a problem. Don't worry, Madi, it will be all right.'

‘I can't believe this is happening. God, you read about tourists being captured in border disputes or whatever in Third World countries . . .' her words trailed off. The horror stories she'd read in Sydney newspapers had seemed so far away, and she'd often wondered what those tourists were doing in remote and dangerous areas of places like Burma and Cambodia. She could imagine how this story might read, splashed over the pages of the
Australian.

Connor was having similar thoughts. He doubted they would ever run into these people again and be able to identify them. They were bush couriers, not the Mister Bigs likely to turn up in the city. But he knew drug dealers didn't take chances. He recalled the weekend conversation with Ann and John da Silva at New Spirit where they'd talked of the growing concern over drug trafficking.

‘The drugs they had at New Spirit, do you suppose they came from people like this?' asked Madi, appearing to read his thoughts.

‘Maybe at the end of the line. There's sure to be outlets and dealers in Georgetown who cater to people like them.'

Slowly an awful possibility dawned on Madi. ‘It might be tied up with what happened to Ernesto . . . Oh my God, Connor. Maybe they'll try to kill us too!'

‘Calm down, sweetheart, that's a bit farfetched. No, the drugs might have been part of it. I think Ernesto St Kitt got too close to unmasking the El Dorado outfit.'

Suddenly they heard the sound of a helicopter.

‘This is either good news or bad,' said Connor.

‘Who would bring a chopper up here? The police? Maybe it's the police looking for people like this,' said Madi, hope rising in her voice.

‘Seems a long shot. But let's keep our fingers crossed.'

‘Connor, we have to attract their attention. How can we do that? Set fire to something?'

‘And cook ourselves and save them the trouble?'

Madi held Connor's hand and, with her other, pressed the little frog against her skin.

The chopper landed with a thwack, the bleat of its blades slowly whirring to a stop. They could hear voices and their hearts sank. This was no raid, but an expected arrival. Greetings were swiftly exchanged and then a deep voice asked, ‘Where are they?'

Connor and Madi sat in silence. The droplets of light outside had faded to mellow and a frightening night faced them.

But before the sunset they heard the bolt being opened and Connor and Madi scrambled to their feet.

Two of the men came in while another stood guard at the door. In silence they swiftly bound blindfolds around the prisoners' heads, tied their wrists behind their backs and shoved them back against the wall.

Then they were aware of another man entering. Connor felt he was studying them. Then the man began speaking slowly.

‘This is most unfortunate. You had no business here.' He spoke with an educated accent.

‘Please, just let us go, we won't say anything to anyone,' pleaded Madi.

‘I wish I could believe that, my dear. But it's a risk I can't afford to take.'

‘I give you my word. Look, we'll just leave the country. No one need know anything. We have no idea what's going on,' said Connor.

‘I can't believe you could be so naive.' The man sounded amused, then spoke to one of the men. ‘Search the bags.' Their backpacks were snatched and taken outside.

The man sighed heavily. ‘I have been called away from very important matters to deal with these two very foolish foreigners. It is all very unfortunate.'

‘What are you going to do with us?' whispered Madi.

‘Calm yourself, dear girl, we are not going to do anything with you.' Madi's heart leapt then twisted in fright as he went on. ‘You will be victims of a tragic accident. So sad, so very sad.'

‘Now wait a minute, we're foreign nationals, you can't treat us like this, I work for a major international banking organisation, maybe we can come to some arrangement . . .' Connor clutched at straws.

The man chuckled and took several steps close to Madi. She could smell hair oil and was aware he was right in front of her and she decided to fall to her knees.

‘Please, I beg you, just leave us be. We can't hurt you, we won't talk.'

‘My dear girl,' he leaned down and seemed about to help Madi to her feet. Madi raised her head and started to cry, then discovered that she could just see beneath the bottom of her blindfold.
Only a tiny slit of vision opened to her, but in the last rays of the sun she could see the man's hands clasped before him. The skin was dark but Madi was silenced by what she saw. He wore a gold ring. Above his gold watch was a tattoo. The ring and tattoo were both in the shape of a frog.

The man flexed his hands and the knuckles cracked. Madi lowered her head. The sight burned into her brain. The man turned and left without another word. Their backpacks were thrown in and the door slammed and bolted. Then they heard their fate delivered in a bored matter-of-fact voice.

‘They know too much. Get rid of them. Take them down to the falls or the river, strip them, leave their clothes and bags. Make it look like a drowning accident.'

‘Both of them?'

‘Of course, idiot. And cover your tracks well. I'll leave at first light. Get rid of them as soon as I've gone then get the truck up here and move the stuff as quickly as possible.'

‘Connor . . .' Madi stumbled towards him. ‘They're going to kill us.'

‘Turn around back to back, see if we can get these ties off.'

It only took a few fumbling minutes and they had freed their hands and pulled off their blindfolds.

Connor wrapped his arms around her. ‘Lester will come looking for us if we're not back by dark.'

‘He won't come until morning and we have the boat! It'll be too late.' She began to cry and Connor rocked her in his arms as she called out for her brother Matthew. He kissed her wet face, fear in his own heart. ‘I love you, Madi. I would lay down my life for you, God I wish . . .' He kicked at the wooden wall in anger at the frightening realisation facing them. He turned back to Madi reaching for her in the darkness and found her tightly clenched fist. Prising open her fingers he felt the wooden frog. ‘Hang on to this, Madi. Don't give up, we won't make it easy for them. We'll get out of this, I know we will.'

‘Why would he wear a frog?' asked Madi as she rocked to and fro holding the small carving to her cheek.

‘What do you mean?'

She lowered her voice. ‘I saw his hands under the blindfold. He was wearing a gold frog ring and he had a tattoo of a little gold frog.'

‘I don't know, Madi,' Connor said wearily, wondering if they would ever escape.

Lying on the dirt they held each other through the long night, dozing then awakening as nightmares crowded in. Just before dawn the helicopter engine whirred into life and it took off.

A little later they heard several men talking and could smell a fire and food cooking.

Connor rubbed his head. ‘We have to work
out a plan. They don't know we've untied ourselves, we can grab one of them when they come in, use him as a shield . . .'

‘And then what? Connor, we're outnumbered and they have guns. They could save a lot of effort by shooting and burying us.'

Eventually the padlock rattled, the door was pushed open and four men rushed in, two grabbing Connor, the other two moving towards Madi. They gave each other a look. So much for any plans to escape.

They were shoved, stumbling, outside. There was a short discussion among the men which neither of them could follow, then one of the men tied Madi and Connor's arms behind them once more. Exhausted and numb, Madi said nothing, feeling as if she was in a trance. Connor whispered out of the corner of his mouth. ‘We'll try and make a break when we get a chance . . . do something . . . just watch me, okay?'

Madi stared at him uncomprehendingly. All fight had gone, replaced by a paralysing acceptance of their dreadful fate.

The man with the gun called to one of the others and each held onto Connor and Madi and began walking them across the clearing.

They were approaching the trees when Madi heard the call of an eagle, followed immediately by another on the other side. Something made her
glance back over her shoulder and the tableaux she saw became fixed in her mind forever.

Standing a few feet away from the edge of the trees stood two Amerindians. Faces painted and wearing only small aprons, they were aiming long wooden blowpipes. Madi swivelled her head back to the front and couldn't believe her eyes. Two more Amerindians holding bows and arrows stepped from the trees in front of them. At the sound of another eagle's call, there was a soft whishing as arrows and blow darts tipped with poison silently hit their targets. The man with the gun died instantly with an arrow through the temple. The other men, hit by poison darts, buckled, fell and writhed in agony before gasping and lying deathly still.

The Amerindians melted into the trees except one who trotted forward with an almost casual loping barefooted gait. Madi gasped as he drew a knife and slit the ropes around the wrists.

‘Uman!' she said, recognising the husband of Dia, her pottery teacher. ‘How did you get here?'

‘Yesterday, we were hunting and we heard a gunshot. We saw what happened. We waited for the right time to get you.'

‘My God, how can we thank you . . .' Connor shook his hand then glanced around at the bodies. ‘What are we going to do about this?'

‘These are bad men. They steal our trees, sell drugs. Now they hurt you. We have ways of sending a message to these people they are not welcome in our lands.' He paused and looked each of them in the eye. ‘You must never speak of this. You do not know what tribe or where we come from. Yes?'

‘Of course, we understand,' said Madi.

‘You go back same way.'

‘Did you see the helicopter, see anyone else?' asked Connor.

‘City man in helicopter, fat one. No markings on the helicopter.'

Madi took Connor's hand. ‘Let's get out of here. Thank you, Uman. We won't speak of your part in this.'

The Amerindian gave a quick smile and trotted back into the trees. Connor and Madi picked up their packs and began running.

They were halfway down the river, the little outboard motor going as fast as possible when they saw a small woodskin canoe sliding along the water close to the bank in the shadow of the trees. Cut from one piece of bark, the little one-man craft skimmed along paddled by the unmistakable figure of Lester. He waved the paddle at Connor and Madi and they stopped the engine. Lester scrambled into the aluminium dinghy and tied the woodskin to the stern.

‘I was gettin' worried bout yo' lovebirds, reckon I'd better check.'

As they headed back to Lester's camp they told him the story. He shook his head in disbelief. ‘Man, yo in a heap of trouble. Better keep dis one under de hat. Yo spose dat chopper man comin' back soon. And what about de drugs in de logs? Dey won't leave dat sittin' in de forest.'

‘They don't know where we are or who we are. And they're not going to broadcast the fact they're involved in drug smuggling. We'll report what happened to the police. Of course we won't be able to offer anything at all in the way of information. We were blindfolded, had no idea of who saved our lives. We are innocent victims.' Connor drew a breath. ‘That's our story and we're sticking to it. All I care about now is a decent feed and a sleep.'