Amazon Burning (A James Acton Thriller, #10) (3 page)

“You
seem pleased with yourself,” he observed.

Acton
chuckled, swinging out of the hammock a little more elegantly than his friend,
then walking over to give Laura a peck. He sat beside her, taking her hand in
his. “Just enjoying the company,” he said, squeezing Laura’s hand.

Milton
stirred, bolting upright in his chair before gaining his bearings. “What did I
miss?”

Laura
shook her head. “Nada, just a bunch of lazy folks doing and saying nothing.”

Acton
decided to have a little fun with Reading. “You know, I was doing some checking
and if I’m not mistaken, England has never won the World Cup.”

Reading’s
eyes widened and his chest expanded as he leaned forward, his finger raising to
jab his point home. “I don’t know where you get your bloody facts, but we won
in 1966, on home soil!”

Laura
squeezed Acton’s hand, already realizing what was about to happen. “1966? You
mean the one where the Soviet referee gave you that goal that never actually
went in?”

Acton
had to bite his tongue to prevent himself from smiling as Reading jumped to his
feet. “That was a goal! Everyone knows that was a goal! Only the damned Germans
say it wasn’t, and that’s because they lost!”

“Are you
sure?” Acton waved his iPad as if it were the key piece of evidence in a murder
trial. “On here it shows how it was impossible for the ball to have actually
gone in. They say it bounced on the line and back out.”

Reading
walked over and snatched the iPad away, turning back to his chair as Acton and
Milton exchanged grins. “I saw that bloody match and I know it was a goal.
Whoever is feeding you these lies is a bloody Hun!” He paused. “Sorry, that was
uncalled for. But whoever they are, they are bloody anti-British!”

His
fingers flew over the iPad and he held it up triumphantly, a clip of the 1966
World Cup final against Germany playing. “Look at that, it clearly goes over
the line!”

Laura
leaned forward, gasping. “Hugh! Do you realize how much that costs to download
from here! That’s tethered to the satellite phone!”

Reading
blanched, his jaw dropping, clearly aghast. His finger flew at the pause button.

“It’s
still downloading, Hugh!” exclaimed Milton as he leaned forward, joining in on
the fun.

Acton
pointed at the iPad. “You have to close the browser window!”

“How the
bloody hell do I do that?”

 “My
God, that must be, what, a thousand dollars already?” Milton bit down on his
thumb as he exchanged glances with Acton and Laura.

“There!”
cried Reading triumphantly as he simply turned off the device, his face red. He
looked at Laura. “I’m so sorry, I had no idea—”

The
three of them burst out laughing and Reading realized he’d been had. Acton rose
and took the iPad, grabbing his friend’s shoulder and shaking him. “I’m sorry,
Hugh, that was just too damned easy!”

“Fowk
off!” muttered Reading under his breath as he shook his head. Acton returned to
his chair as Reading calmed himself slightly. “Okay, you got me. So how much
did that cost, anyhow?”

“Oh,
Greg’s about right,” replied Laura. “Probably about a grand.” Reading’s jaw
dropped again but before he could say anything Laura waved her hand to dismiss
any apology. “And I don’t care. James watched Netflix last night. It probably
cost us ten times that.”

Acton
suddenly felt the same guilt and shame his friend had moments before. He turned
to Laura. “My God, Laura. I’m sorry. It didn’t even occur to me!”

“Love,
if it mattered, I’d have said something. I just want us all to be happy, and
God knows we can afford it.”

Acton
shook his head, still feeling guilty. He smiled at her slightly. “At least I
selected lo-def! I bet Hugh didn’t!” He spun his head at Reading, his eyes
glaring at him. “J’accuse!”

“Don’t
try that Frenchie shit on me, old boy. Besides, I wouldn’t know lo-def from
low-jack. It’s all bloody Greek to me.”

Acton
took Laura’s hand in his, kissing her wedding ring and winking at her. “I guess
we’ll never know if England really should have won that soccer match.”

“Football!”
cried Reading and Laura at the same time.

They all
roared in laughter, their happiness carrying across the water, when Reading
pointed. “Hallo! What’s this? Looks like a good place to hole up for the
night.”

Acton
looked to where his friend was pointing to see a shallow inlet with a clearing
on the shore. Reading was right, it was perfect.

Laura
shouted for the captain of their boat, Fabricio, who appeared moments later.
“Yes, senhora?”

She
pointed at the inlet. “What do you think?”

Fabricio
looked and smiled. “Perfeito!” He disappeared, shouting orders, and the boat
slowly turned toward its resting place for the night.

Acton
turned toward Reading. “So, when are the FIFA Oscars announced.”

“Huh?”

“For all
those dives the players take during the match.”

Reading
shook his head. “Bloody Americans. Just wait until I start in on baseball and
see how you feel.”

“Bring
it on!” Acton suddenly stopped, the smile disappearing from his face. “What’s
that?”

Northern Amazon
Second day of the Third Moon
Three days before the attack

Tuk’s shoulders heaved, the heaviness in his heart overwhelming. The
woman he loved barely knew he existed, so much so she was pledged to another
man. A man who was his friend. A man he had envied his entire life, and now
even more so that he had captured the heart of the beautiful TikTik.

TikTik!

He
screamed her name in his head, his eyes closed as he pictured her smile. To say
she barely knew he existed wasn’t fair. She knew him—she knew him well. After
all, their tribe barely numbered thirty so it interacted closely with the
neighboring tribes, hers only an hour’s walk away. They had grown up together,
played together, and because of his slight size, he hadn’t roughhoused with the
boys as much, instead preferring the company of the girls.

I’m a
woman with a penis!

It was
his own insult to himself—he was his worst tormentor. Some from the other
tribes would tease him, especially when he was younger, but now that he was a
man and dealing mostly with adults, the teasing was mostly gone, unless the
alcohol started to flow, then the teasing began anew. He would usually make an
excuse and leave beforehand, returning to his village should there still be
enough light, or to his guest quarters, pretending to sleep, instead wincing
with each barb at his expense as it sliced through the laughter and darkness,
the truly vicious insults delivered at an ever increasing volume.

Too
often he cried himself to sleep.

He was
so lonely it hurt, and he knew his face revealed his pain every time his mother
looked at him. His father had died years before saving a young hunter from a
charging boar, and it had opened a void in his life, his father his constant
companion. His friend Pol had filled that void, an older boy who took him under
his wing, and in time a friendship developed that was so close the two became
each other’s confidants, no secret too great that wouldn’t be shared.

Even his
longing for TikTik.

Pol had
always been there for him, day in and day out, filling the void. When he needed
someone to listen, Pol was there, when he needed advice, Pol would oblige. If
he just needed to sit in silence, but with a companion, his friend was there.

And now
he wasn’t.

He had
become sick a few weeks ago and no one knew of what. A vicious cough turned
into fever, shaking and sweating. Eventually he had begun to see things, to
imagine people and creatures around him, and in a moment of lucidity had called
out for Tuk, but Tuk had been at the next village trading, assured by their medicine
man there was no hope of ever speaking to Pol again.

But he
had been wrong.

And Tuk
blamed himself for missing his one last opportunity to say goodbye to his
friend, and it broke his heart every time he thought of his friend calling for
him, and he not there to answer, to take his hand in his and just let him know
he wasn’t alone, and that he was loved.

Tuk
wiped the tears away from his face with the back of his hand and looked up as a
sound carried over the waters of Mother’s River. It was a three day’s hike from
his village, and he had only seen it once before when he was younger, but when
Pol had passed, he had run away lest anyone see his tears, and after much
indecision, eventually decided to visit Mother’s River. The last time had been
with his father shortly before he had died, and now he sat on the very spot where
he had once relaxed with his father as he told tales of strange people and
stranger boats that carried them. His father had never seen them himself, but
the stories were passed on during visits from tribes that lived closer to the
great river.

The
Spirit People.

And
there was one thing they all agreed upon.

Never
approach these strange creatures, and never be seen by them.

Lest
death befall you.

It was
believed they were from the next life, the one after this, when the great
Mother reclaimed her children and rewarded them with everlasting life. Some
believed that was a life of joy on the Mother River, others believed it was in
the sky at the firesides that twinkled in the night. Tuk wasn’t sure what to
believe, but he did believe in prudence.

He rose
slightly and stepped back into the forest, abandoning his perch at the side a
small inlet of calm water and pleasant shade. The cool breeze that had at one
moment helped keep the bugs away now carried curious smells, and sounds that
continued to get louder.

Laughter.

Several
people were talking and laughing, their voices carrying across the water, and
as his curiosity overcame his fear, he edged forward, peering around a large
tree as the oddest looking boat he had ever seen came around a bend in the
river. It was massive, at least the length of five men if not ten. And tall,
rising out of the water higher than the tallest building in their village.

It was
completely white, as white as the eyes in his head, and seemed to be moving
without any sign of oars, the only way he knew to propel a boat, though he was
no expert, his own tribe rarely venturing this far.

He heard
a woman’s laugh, it so casual and genuine, it lifted his soured spirits. He
peered across the water and finally caught sight of the source of such a
beautiful sound.

A woman
whiter than any he had ever seen.

And more
uniquely beautiful than he could have ever dreamed.

And in
that very instance, he knew he had to possess her.

Somebody
on the boat yelled and pointed to his position. Tuk’s heart leapt into his
throat and he plunged back in the woods as the boat turned toward him.

Rio Negro, Northern Amazon, Brazil
Present Day

“What is it?” asked Laura as they jumped to their feet, all eyes on
the shore.

“I saw
someone, or at least I think I did.” Acton had to admit he wasn’t sure. It was
more of a shape, small, slight, sort of reddish brown. As soon as he had
pointed it had disappeared. “It must have been an animal.”

“Are you
sure?” Reading sounded concerned. “Perhaps we should find another place to
weigh anchor.”

Acton
shook his head, motioning toward the western horizon. “The sun’s low already.
The chances of us finding another location like this are slim to none before
nightfall, then we’re stuck in the middle of the river. I’d rather get off the
boat and set up camp where we can stretch our legs.”

Reading
frowned but acquiesced. Acton suppressed his smile, knowing damned well that
Reading would enjoy any excuse to stay onboard, the eight legged and no legged
creatures he hated in far too great abundance on land for his liking. Even
Acton had to admit to a little bit of trepidation, the insects large, numerous
and exotic in appearance.