Blood Forest (Suspense thriller) Read online

  “You mean Brandon?” he asked. “The poker player? Or perhaps the mercenaries? Those who aren’t killed by pygmy poison will succumb to the forest. No one survives the Msitu wa Damu. They will become lost and die. It is inevitable.”

  She glared, summoning her haughtiest look. “Everyone except for you?”

  “Everyone except for the pygmies,” Guy corrected. He stood up and turned toward the door to the baraza. “And me, because I am their friend.”

  He collected his rifle on the way out the door.

  The moment he was gone, Sam struggled against her bonds. The tight thong cut into her wrists and she banged her feet angrily against the floorboards. Finally, she curled against the post, defeated, and began to cry.

  19

  It has to be tighter, for God’s sake,” Nessa growled.

  She yanked the rope away from Ike and pulled the knot tighter, pressing the bandage against her wound in the process. Even as she tugged, she winced from the increased pressure.

  “Just didn’t want to hurt you, luv,” Ike explained defensively, letting go.

  “Do you want me to bleed to death, Ike?”

  He didn’t reply, deciding to let her temper play itself out.

  Instead, he watched as Nessa tended to her own leg. Occasionally, she requested some medical supplies: bandages, alcohol, and pain medicine, which he retrieved from her bag.

  Raoul sat nearby, legs crossed. Beside him, Kuntolo’s body stretched out, eyes closed. The Frenchman wore a plagued expression, although his tears were at an end. Gilles stood at the edge of the camp, staring into the forest, pink and blue in the morning light. Although he held no weapon, he kept a serious vigil for any sign of danger.

  “I . . . I didn’t mean to snap at you,” Nessa said after fixing the bandages.

  Ike placed a hand on her cheek and gave her a crocodile grin. This time she smiled back. The warmth surprised him.

  Delani emerged from the jungle, moving quietly for a man his size. Only when he stepped up next to Ike did he tuck his pistol away. “I couldn’t find the others. But I found these.”

  Delani dropped three items onto the ground in front of Nessa and Ike. A shattered pair of glasses, a hook prosthesis, and a single sandal. “There was definitely a fight,” he went on. “But no sign of any bodies.”

  Nessa picked up the bent frame that remained of Alfred’s glasses. She inspected them, noting the dried blood.

  “How long do you suppose they were trailing us, waiting for us to split up?” Ike asked.

  Delani shrugged.

  “And now half of us are dead or gone.”

  Delani shook his head. “Give Gilles his rifle back,” Delani suggested coolly.

  Gilles looked up at his name. Ike stood up and unshouldered the rifle. He handed the weapon over as Gilles nodded in thanks.

  Something rustled in the forest. Everyone looked into the green boughs. The sound had originated east along the river. Two pistols and one newly returned rifle raised and pointed in that direction.

  Brandon stepped through the foliage. Tiny scratches covered his cheeks and his knees were bloodied, but otherwise he looked unharmed.

  “Thank God. You scared the hell out of us, mate,” Ike said, lowering his pistol. He wrapped an arm around the exhausted man. Brandon leaned against him, grateful for the support. “He’s looking a little out of it. Get him some water.”

  Gilles nodded and headed for the supplies. Meanwhile, Ike helped him sit down in the center of the camp.

  “Where are the others?” Nessa asked him. “They were with you.”

  Brandon shrugged weakly. “We were attacked. By pygmies.” His eyes glanced over Kuntolo’s corpse. “What happened?”

  “Pygmies,” Ike replied.

  Brandon closed his eyes. He ran a hand through his curly hair.

  “Did you see what happened to the others?” Ike asked.

  Brandon shook his head. “No. When they attacked we were separated. After that I heard Sam shouting in the forest.”

  “So they might be alive.”

  Brandon nodded.

  “Still, we’re down four,” Nessa pointed out. “We need to head back to the village.”

  “We need to go look for them,” Brandon argued.

  “And get lost in the jungle?” Nessa asked. “If they’re out there, and Temba is with them, they’ll head back to the village. Our best chance is to go there.”

  “That’s not true. We’re only a few hours away from the pond. Sam would lead them there.”

  Nessa shook her head.

  “Are you sure about that?” Ike asked. “Why would she lead them deeper into the jungle?”

  “That’s just the way she is.” Brandon shrugged helplessly. “She’ll expect us to continue on. And after all of that, she’d still be thinking about the stupid plane.”

  “Even if that’s true,” Nessa began. “She could be dead. And Temba would lead the—”

  “Come on, Doc,” Ike interrupted. “None of that.” He made a slashing gesture across his throat.

  “And what do you think Alfred would do?” Brandon asked. “Would he head back to the village? Or would he be out there looking for his flower?”

  Nessa took a deep breath and acquiesced.

  “Do we head to the pond then?” Ike asked. He looked around at a few tired nods, the last one belonging to Delani. “We better get moving fast. Who knows if those pygmy bastards are gonna come in for another attack? In the meantime, what do we do about Kuntolo?”

  Several gazes turned to Raoul, who sat by the body. Delani walked over and knelt beside him, speaking to Raoul in French. “What should we do with the body?”

  The Frenchman looked back at the mercenary for several seconds before responding. “The pygmies don’t care where they bury their dead. When they move on, the grave is forgotten.”

  “Do you think we should bury him here?”

  Raoul nodded.

  They dug a shallow grave a few feet from the river. Ike and Delani carried Kuntolo’s body over and settled him in the earth. They covered him with a spare blanket. Then Gilles said a few words in French, an impromptu sermon. He led them in a prayer, again in French for Raoul’s benefit. He asked Raoul if he’d like to say anything. The Frenchman shook his head and remained silent. They covered the body, and Ike set a few stones on top. It made the grave seem less empty. Finally, Delani drove Kuntolo’s spear into the ground next to the upturned soil.

  The whole thing stirred Ike’s heart. He felt the strain of loss, although not just Kuntolo’s. He almost imagined Kipwe lying in the ground next to the pygmy. He even remembered a few faces from Rwanda and placed them in the dirt too.

  As Ike stared at the pygmy spear stuck out of the ground, Nessa stood beside him and he felt an arm around his back. He looked down at her shy expression.

  With that out of the way, they walked along the river again. This time Brandon stood at the lead, eager to reach their destination. The American had a lot of faith in his wife’s abilities. Let him have that, Ike thought. At the very least, it would keep the man moving.

  After a few hours, Brandon announced with certainty that they were almost to the plane.

  They’d reach it before mid-day, Ike realized. Surely, the pygmies wouldn’t dare to attack while it was light.

  Finally, the undergrowth thickened up ahead, and Ike spotted a hole in the canopy where light shone through. Brandon slowed to a steady pace, falling silent. He pointed through the undergrowth. They were at the pond.

  Delani gestured for Brandon to fall back and, with his pistol ready, he led the way through the thick brush. Gilles followed close behind, leading Brandon, Nessa, and Raoul. Ike took the rear.

  The tiny black pond rippled peacefully in the sunlight. Only a
t noon when the sun beat directly overhead did the rays reach the marshy water. A few logs floated scattered, torn asunder by recent storms.

  The six of them walked out and stood along the muddy embankment.

  No Cessna awaited them. The pond was empty.

  Ike’s eyes scanned to the left where they fell upon a large open swath in the undergrowth. The plants and foliage had been hacked apart and run over by some type of vehicle. A wide corridor led off into the jungle.

  “What?” Brandon ran right down to the pond, his toes splashing in the shallow water. “Where is it?”

  He ran along the embankment and stopped at a gnarled tree. “Right here. This is where we tied it.” He stooped down and lifted a length of rope, sliced at the end. “Somebody came for it.”

  “Pygmies?” Delani asked.

  “Not unless they’re driving a semi,” Ike noted. He walked in the opposite direction around the pond to the giant gap in the foliage. “Was this here the last time you checked, mate?”

  “The militia,” Brandon realized.

  “I’d say so. By the look of it they came in here with chainsaws and a truck.”

  “All to get some plane?” Nessa asked. “They cut through the jungle for a plane?”

  Ike nodded, though the notion was hard to swallow. Cutting apart the jungle was no easy feat. It would have been a slow deliberate process. They must have wanted the plane intact.

  “No sign of the others,” Delani noted.

  “Not yet,” Ike agreed.

  Brandon raised his hands to his mouth and yelled, “Sam!”

  Delani moved quickly to hush him. “Don’t be an idiot.”

  Gilles watched the foliage, gripping his rifle tightly.

  Ike stood beside Delani. He spoke in a hushed voice. “Now we’ve got two groups in the jungle. I doubt the pygmies and the militia are working together.”

  “We’d be in more trouble if they were.”

  “True enough. But I still don’t like it.”

  “No, not good,” Delani agreed. “We’ll turn around and head back right away.”

  “While we’re here we should at least look for the flower,” Nessa suggested.

  “It’s too dangerous,” Ike reasoned. “And we can’t afford to wait around here for the others either.”

  “What are you talking about?” Brandon asked, joining them.

  The three turned to him with guilt-ridden expressions.

  “Come on. You can tell me.”

  They hesitated, but Nessa spoke finally. “We can’t stay here. It’s too dangerous. The militia could be—”

  Ike silenced Nessa with a raised hand. A tiny sound had reached his ears, a metallic scrape in the distance. Gilles held his rifle ready and stared at the forest.

  Ike spun, eyes searching the green leaves.

  A subtle movement caught his eye. Something thin and black peeked out between the leaves.

  “Get down!”

  Ike threw Nessa to the ground and spun, pistol raised. A series of cracks split across the peaceful pond. Bullets sliced through the air around them. Delani darted for the undergrowth. Brandon ran along the embankment, bullets pounding the mud behind him.

  Ike fell to one knee, his body shielding Nessa. He opened fire with his Desert Eagle, placing his shots as close to the tiny barrel as he could. Explosion after explosion erupted in his hand and in the distance leaves tore apart and floated to the ground.

  More muzzles flashed from within the foliage. Bullets splashed into the pond in a scattered formation.

  Ike cried out as something ripped across his bicep. His blood sprayed into the air, even as the bullet continued its course. His grip on his pistol faltered, and he collapsed to his other knee.

  Behind him, Nessa lay on her stomach, her hands over her head. Mud splashed up from bullet impacts and fell over her back.

  “Move woman!” Ike yelled. As he did, he kicked her in the thigh.

  Nessa climbed to her feet, arms still raised above her head, and ran for the jungle’s edge. Ike followed after her in a full run. He gritted his teeth, ready for another impact at any moment.

  Then his arms broke through the foliage, and he dove over a fallen log, landing heavily in the mud. Nessa tripped over the same log and crashed to the ground beside him. Through the trees, Ike made out Raoul cowering behind a stump. From this angle, Brandon was nowhere to be seen.

  Delani’s hand grabbed his shoulder. Gilles was right beside the mercenary boss. “You’re hit,” Delani noticed.

  “Yeah, they planned a little ambush for us,” Ike said.

  The automatic fire continued. Bark flew up from the log and fell in shards around them. They had to fall back from the onslaught before the bullets tore through.

  Between the sharp retorts of automatic fire, Ike heard a familiar popping sound.

  “Oh hell,” he said. “Move!”

  Delani and Gilles scattered in different directions, seeking better cover. Ike lifted Nessa to her feet and threw her over the log, where she hit the ground again. He didn’t have time to leap, so he just tumbled over after her.

  Fire and mud blew into the air. The concussive sound assaulted Ike’s eardrums and sent shudders through his bones. For several seconds after, Ike was deaf to the world around him. He tried to see up through the foliage. If only he could spot the man holding the grenade launcher and end his life. But the leaves were too thick.

  “We have to move now!” Ike yelled, although he knew Nessa was as deaf as he was. He grabbed her by the shoulder and lifted her again. She held her ears, in a state of total shock.

  As used to danger as Ike was, he had never faced a direct assault like this before. He pushed Nessa back over the log and deeper into the jungle. She stumbled as she still held her arms about her head. Ike stayed right behind and, to his left and right, he saw the others running deeper into the jungle also. Raoul weaved between the trees in full flight.

  Militia soldiers kept right on their heels. Ike caught glimpses of them racing through the jungle, away from the pond and along the river, keeping up short bursts of fire.

  Delani slowed, his .38 pointed back toward the militia, looking for a clear shot. It gave Ike and Nessa a chance to catch up.

  “They’ve got us on the run,” Ike shouted, his hearing returned. “We can’t get away from them like this. They’re gonna keep chasing until they wear us out and then they’ll mop us up.”

  “I know,” Delani agreed. “But we can’t fight them.”

  “You’re right. We can’t. But we can slow them down. Make them hesitate and lose their momentum.”

  They fled along the river, the running water to their left behind a wall of foliage. The canopy blocked out the sun and the undergrowth lessened, providing less cover. Ike spotted the soldiers more frequently through the trees. Nessa was gasping for breath, stumbling on her wounded leg.

  “Keep running along the river,” Ike yelled. “Don’t look back.”

  Gilles slowed to stand beside the mercenary. He held his assault rifle out at arm’s length. “You are better with it then me,” he said with a grin.

  Ike considered then took the rifle and handed over his Desert Eagle. “Be careful with it, mate. Once you get far enough ahead, lead them across the river. That’s the only way you’ll lose ’em.”

  Gilles nodded.

  Ike and Delani ran at the back, the other four ahead of them. As they wove through a copse of trees, Ike stepped to the right, breaking away from the procession. The Australian mercenary pressed his back against the trunk of a thick tree, hoping none of the soldiers saw his little detour. He hugged Gilles’ rifle to his chest.

  A few feet ahead, Delani did the same, but to the left. He cocked his .38, at the ready.

  The sound of th
e others’ footsteps slowly diminished as they ran off ahead. Ike struggled to control his breathing. Every muscle tensed. Blood trickled down his arm, hot and sticky. He shared a look with Delani, who glanced out of the corner of his eye.

  Meanwhile, the sounds of gunfire drew closer.

  He gestured to Delani to stay where he was. Then he peeked around the trunk of the tree, watching the soldiers. When an opportunity presented itself, he slipped away from the river, putting distance between him and Delani. With them spread out, it would be harder for the militia to surround them and they wouldn’t be given away by each other’s gunshots.

  Ike ran. Special Forces training kept his footsteps light. He hardly made a sound as he sprinted across a clearing and ducked behind a far tree. Some low-lying plants dared to curl around the roots, giving Ike an excellent hiding spot. Rather than staying behind the trunk, he crouched in the brush and peeked the tip of his rifle through.

  He waited.

  The soldiers walked at a fast but steady pace. They kept their rifles raised as they fanned out, attempting to surround their quarry. Ike had thought maybe they’d back off once they got away from the pond, but apparently the militia wanted them dead.

  Ike spotted a particular weapon among the many rifles, this one a short thick cylinder. He noted the man who carried it, dirty, rugged, and hard.

  A pistol sounded to Ike’s right as Delani opened fire. A bullet struck one of the soldiers in the knee. The soldier toppled, crying in pain, and his rifle dipped.

  Rifles raised and pointed in Delani’s direction. The muzzles flashed and bullets sprayed through the jungle. Ike couldn’t see Delani’s position, but he prayed that the man was safe enough behind the tree. With their attention distracted, Ike took careful aim. He lined the barrel with his eye, searching for a target. This was not the MP5K he was used to and Kalashnikov rifles sacrificed accuracy for reliability. Ike would have to make do.

  The grenade launcher lifted. The soldier set the weapon in place.

  Ike scrambled for a shot, walking the barrel up the soldier’s body. He fought to steady the weapon with very little time. He had to fire first and his shot had to count. He stared down the barrel at the man’s head, as the man angled the launcher up for a shot.