Amazonia

Kouwe explained as he rummaged through his pack. “Ants are tuned to chemical markers. The man’s urine would have been taken as an assault on the colony living in the tree.”

Kelly broke out a syringe of antihistamine, while Kouwe removed a handful of leaves from his own pack and began to rub them together. She recognized the leaves and the scent of the oily compound. “Ku-runyeh?” she asked.

The Indian smiled at her. “Very good.” It was the same medicinal plant that Kouwe had used to treat her blistered fingers when she had touched the fire liana vine. A potent analgesic.

The two doctors began to work on their patient. As Kelly injected a combination of an antihistamine and a steroidal antiinflammatory, Kouwe smeared some of the ku-run-yeh extract on the soldier’s arm, showing him how to apply it.

The sergeant’s face reflected the immediate soothing relief. He sighed and took the handful of leaves. “I can do the rest myself,” he said, his voice hard with embarrassment.

Corporal Warczak helped his sergeant stand.

“We should skirt around this area,” Nate said. “We don’t want to camp too near an ant tree. Our food might draw their scouts.”

Captain Waxman nodded. “Then let’s get going. We’ve wasted enough time here.” His glance toward the limping sergeant was not sympathetic.

Over the next half hour, the group wound again under the forest canopy, accompanied by the hoots and calls of capuchin and wooly monkeys. Manny pointed out a tiny pigmy anteater nestled atop a branch. Frozen in place by fear, it looked more like a stuffed animal with its large eyes and silky coat. And of more menace, but appearing just as artificial due to its fluorescent-green scales, was a forest pit viper, wrapped and dangling from a palm frond.

At last, a shout arose from up ahead. It was Corporal Warczak. “I’ve found something!”

Kelly prayed it wasn’t another ant tree.

“I believe it’s a marker from Clark!”

The group converged toward the sound of his voice. Up a short hill, they found a large Brazil nut tree. Its bower shaded a great area littered with old nuts and leaves. Upon the trunk, a small strip of torn cloth hung, soaked and limp.

The others approached, but Corporal Warczak waved them all away. “I’ve found boot tracks,” he said. “Don’t trample them.”

“Boot tracks?” Kelly said in a hushed voice as the soldier slowly circled the tree, then stopped on the far side.

“I see a trail leading here!” he called back.

Captain Waxman and Frank crossed over to him.

Kelly frowned. “I thought Gerald Clark came out of the forest barefooted.”

“He did,” Nate answered as they waited. “But the Yanomamo shaman we captured mentioned that the Indian villagers had stripped Clark of his possessions. They must have taken his boots.”

Kelly nodded.

Richard Zane pointed toward the tree. “Is there another message?”

They all waited for the okay to enter the area. Captain Waxman and Frank returned, leaving Corporal Warczak crouched by the trail.

The group was waved forward. “We’ll camp here,” Waxman declared.

Sounds of relief flowed, and the team approached the tree, decaying nuts crackling underfoot. Kelly was one of the first to the trunk. Again, deeply incised in the bark were clear markings.

“G. C.: Clark again,” Nate said. He pointed in the direction of the arrow. “Due west. Just like the boot trail Warczak found. Dated May seventh.”

Olin leaned against the tree. “May seventh? That means it took Clark ten days to reach the village from here? He must have been moving damn slowly.”

“He probably didn’t make a beeline like we did,” Nate said. “He probably spent a lot of time searching for some sign of habitation or civilization, tracking back and forth.”

“Plus he was getting sick by this time,” Kelly added. “According to my mother’s examination of his remains, the cancers would’ve been starting to spread through his body. He probably had to rest often.”

Anna Fong sighed sadly. “If only he could’ve reached civilization sooner…been able to communicate where he’d been all this time.”

Olin shoved away from the tree. “Speaking of communication, I should get the satellite uplink set up. We’re due to conference in another half hour.”

“I’ll help you,” Zane said, heading off with him.

The rest of the group dispersed to string up hammocks, gather wood, and scrounge up some local fruits. Kelly busied herself with her own campsite, spreading her mosquito netting like a pro.

Frank worked beside her. “Kelly…?” From her brother’s tone, she could tell he was about to tread on cautious ground.

“What?”

“I think you should go back.”

She stopped tugging her netting and turned. “What do you mean?”

“I’ve been talking to Captain Waxman. When he reported the attack this morning to his superiors, they ordered him to trim nonessential personnel after a safe camp had been established. Last night was too close. They don’t want to risk additional casualties. Plus the others are slowing the Rangers down.” Frank glanced over his shoulder. “To expedite our search, it’s been decided to leave Anna and Zane here, along with Manny and Kouwe.”

“But—”

“Olin, Nate, and I will continue with the Rangers.”

Kelly turned fully around. “I’m not nonessential, Frank. I’m the only physician here, and I can travel just as well as you.”

“Corporal Okamoto is a trained field medic.”

“That doesn’t make him an M.D.”

“Kelly…”

“Frank, don’t do this.”

He wouldn’t meet her eyes. “It’s already been decided.”

Kelly circled to make him look at her. “You decided this. You’re the leader of this operation.”

He finally looked up. “Okay, it was my decision.” His shoulders sagged, and he swung away. “I don’t want you at risk.”

Kelly fumed, trembling with frustration. But she knew the decision was indeed ultimately her brother’s.

“We’ll send out a GPS lock on our current position and leave two Rangers as guards. Then a team will evacuate you as soon as a Brazilian supply helicopter with the range to reach camp can be coordinated. In the meantime, the remaining party—the six Rangers and the three of us—will strike out from here.”