Blood Forest (Suspense thriller) (30 page)

“Now, when neural signals are interrupted, particularly sensory signals, the brain responds to the lack of input and fills in the gaps. The result is a hallucination. What form the hallucination takes is based on what the brain expects to see, rather than what it actually sees. So, if the mind thinks it is not alone the hallucination takes a human form. Or in the case of one of these experiences, a near human form. Certain basic primordial features are exaggerated. Head, eyes, the length of the fingers and the arms—”

“So they see aliens? Or ghosts?” Sam asked, incredulous. She remembered the man she saw melting into the floor of the tent. But he didn’t seem to fit one of the hallucinations Guy described. He felt more like a dream. She remembered what Guy said about sleep and brain waves. Could the waves disrupt her sleep cycle? Make her feel like she was dreaming when she was awake?

“Yes, ghosts,” he replied with a wry grin. “Not even the BaMbuti believe in such silly superstitions.”

Curved claws gripped the round branches. The leaves of the nearby branches formed a protective circle at Temba’s sides, so the first baboon advanced from straight ahead.

Temba yanked the axe from his belt as the baboon leapt. He swung the weapon blindly, eyes half shut. A heavy impact rippled up his shoulders and he heard the satisfying rip of flesh. The animal screamed, its new momentum slamming it into the branch at Temba’s left. The leaves shook from the impact and he had to steady himself against the tree. The baboon tumbled down catching a branch a few feet below Temba. It dangled there for half a second before its claws slipped and it fell out of view.

A second baboon hooked its front claws around Temba’s perch to climb up from below. Temba’s heel came down on the claw, grinding the animal’s digits until it let go. It still held on with its other paw, so he bent down with one leg and kicked out with the other, his foot striking the creature’s shoulder, dislodging it.

When Temba looked down he saw at least six more advancing through the branches, fanning in around him. He kept his axe at the ready. This time the baboons waited. One climbed into the branches above him and the others moved in from the sides and below. He couldn’t hope to fend them all off at this rate. As much as his heart wanted to stay and fight, as much as his adrenaline raged with bloodlust, Temba knew he had to seek higher ground.

He planted one foot against the trunk and leaped up to the next branch, landing on his feet. The wood bowed under his weight and then snapped back up. He used the extra force to propel him onto the branch the top baboon perched on. Temba almost rolled right over it, but he wrapped both arms around the wood and caught himself, axe wedged against his chest.

The baboon barked angrily. It crouched on its haunches ready to spring. But as Temba hopped to his feet, he did not brace himself to meet this attack. Already the lower baboons were moving up. He needed to get higher still.

The canopy spread out, and he saw the stormy sky, forks of lightning arcing across the horizon, lighting the trees in flashes of green. Temba’s eyes locked on the next branch and sprang. He grabbed the wood with both arms, as the baboon jumped under him, finding only trunk and not Temba. The baboon turned and leapt at his hanging legs. He felt the rush of claws near his skin and bent his torso, tucking his legs underneath him. Temba pulled and twisted his legs until his ankles locked around the branch. He pulled himself up until he sat on all fours on top of the branch.

Static coursed across his body and he heard a rush of air. Lightning blasted across a nearby branch, rupturing wood into splinters. The heat from the bolt seared the left side of his body and sent the world spinning. It took all of his effort to hang onto the branch as the thunder rolled over him, shaking every bone and muscle.

When Temba’s eyes opened again, the branch had fallen into the canopy, becoming caught amongst the leaves.

For a moment, he hoped the lightning bolt had deterred the creatures, but when he looked down, he saw the baboons closing relentlessly.

They’ll never stop, he thought. Not as long as there was magic in the air. Temba focused on the buzzing and his eyes followed the power lines through the branches right above him.

If I can break those lines . . .
He gripped the rough bark of the tree. The trunk was thinner here than anywhere else. He was not sure if the remaining branches could hold his weight, but he climbed. Temba twisted around the trunk moving past the humming power lines. They had looked like strings from a distance, but up close he saw that they were actually cords of metal twisted together much like the strings of a bow. They would be impossible to cut with his axe and besides, deadly electricity coursed through them.

Temba had other plans. He crawled to the branch above them. Through their parallel gaps he saw the baboons closing. After this, there would be nowhere to run. Only sky loomed above him. The raindrops beat his shoulders until he felt like he was submerged in a stream. It was difficult to see or hear anything beyond the pounding rain.

He gripped the haft of his axe, the wood slippery and wet. He closed his fingers tight around it, not letting it drop. With one hand he held the trunk of the tree. He scanned the highest branches until he found a particularly thick one fanning out into leafy patterns. Temba swung the axe, chopping into the thick branch. The leaves shuddered, but the branch held. He swung again, hearing the satisfying thwack that followed.

Below him, the closest baboon crossed to the other side of the tree and out of sight. It would attack from around the trunk, using the advantage of surprise. It was only a matter of time. Temba gripped the trunk and swung again. This time the base of the branch splintered and cracked and its own weight pulled it downward. White wood appeared as the fibers ripped apart and the whole thing bowed.

Temba reared back for a swing, his feet slipping on the slick wood. At the same time the baboon jumped, reaching out with its sharp claws. The animal narrowly missed as Temba fell from the branch, his axe tumbling free from his grasp.

The world spun around until he saw the distant sky. His back struck a branch and he tumbled forward. Leaves came up in his face so he grabbed at them trying to slow his fall. The weak handholds tore apart between his fingers.

Wood cracked somewhere above him, and still he fell. A thick branch hit him in the chin, catching him under the armpits. Temba tried to grab on, but his momentum pulled him off, jagged bark ripping across his underarms. He fell another ten feet before he caught a thin twig of a branch. His palms tore off leaves as he slipped to the end of it. But the little twig proved to have a strong grip of its own and it slowed his descent with the strength of a bungee cord. Soon he dangled above the precarious drop.

Temba looked at the ground so far away. He glanced into the branches above at the startled baboons. They climbed down after him, weaving past the rigid power lines. Wood cracked again and he saw the branch so far above him, already half-cut from his axe, break apart under its weight. The heavy wood came down hard on the power lines and the metallic cables whined from the pressure. That strange robotic wail echoed across the canopy as the power lines wobbled and danced.

A snap like a gunshot ripped through the air as the first of the cables broke. Sparks flew, showering down amongst the branches. Bright beads of lightning poured past the screaming baboons.

The second cable snapped and slingshot over the canopy. Temba watched the power line snake and weave until it tumbled amongst the distant leaves.

The third cable gave way.

Temba wanted to cheer, but instead hung on for dear life.

The buzzing in his ear stopped.

The branch broke.

Sam exhausted every conversation topic she could think of. Much of it was one-sided, her telling Guy stories he had absolutely no interest in hearing, all in the sake of stalling, all in the hopes that the damned rain would stop.

As the oil in Guy’s lantern burned, rain twisted across the windowpanes.

Her exhaustion made things worse, and her will crumbled under the need for sleep. She wanted nothing more than to lie down and shut her eyes, and yet if she let Guy return her to the meeting hall and the cold wooden floor, it would ultimately be Alfred who paid the price.

As she spoke, acting blissfully unaware of Guy’s annoyance, her captor stood up from his chair and walked around the table to stand behind her. She felt the cold of his hands on the back of her neck and she fell silent, frozen by the contact.

“Just relax, Sam,” he purred.

“Well, I . . .” Her words trailed as his fingers pressed into her shoulder muscles. Her rigid back bent under his careful touch. The weight of slow pressure kneaded her muscles, softening them. She wanted to sink down, rest her head on the table, and melt into it. She imagined a faraway place with soft blankets and hot showers. In her dream, Brandon’s fingers were on her back, squeezing tight to her spine or teasing the insides of her shoulder blades.

His lips pressed to her neck, softly caressing her skin. His body wrapped around her, enveloping her in his firm warmth. Sam shivered and pulled away. She twisted around in her chair so she could see him. He looked at her, his palms open in the air, not moving from their position a moment before.

“Guy, I just want to talk a little more.”

His eyes narrowed with suspicion, and Sam knew she had drawn this out as long as she could.

“Maybe we should move to the bed, Samantha.”

Her stomach tightened into a knot.
Is this really going to happen?
She had to delay him longer. Maybe she could stall once she got to the bed. What happened if the rain didn’t stop?

She didn’t resist as he helped her from her chair and guided her across the small room. He sat her down on the bed, the mattress bouncing lightly. It felt so soft underneath her that if she were in any other situation she would have passed out instantly. She was all too aware as Guy took a seat beside her and kicked his sandals off onto the floor.

She smelled the heavy scent of his body as he rolled out the covers and smoothed the sheets with one hand. She sat there, legs dangling, and stared at the windowpane and the endless rain.
Why tonight, of all nights, didn’t it stop?

Guy’s cool hands slid across her shoulders and cupped the base of her neck. His fingers dug between the roots of her hair, sending icy tendrils into her scalp and down her spine.

“Would you lie down, Sam?”

She hardly knew what she was doing as she drew her legs up onto the bed and leaned back. Her head fell into a soft pillow, and he leaned over her.

His fingers were on her collarbone. The sickness in her stomach moved up her esophagus so she swallowed. Alfred would never finish in time. She couldn’t delay Guy long enough. If she were thinking more clearly, she might be able to hatch some sort of distraction, taking him off on some tangent. She wasn’t feeling manipulative anymore.

She was frozen, trapped, and helpless. The thought of Guy repulsed her, and the thought of betraying her husband broke her heart. Yet, if Brandon were here, he might even tell her to do it.

Go through with it, and then you can escape.
Brandon would understand.
It would be only a small sacrifice to get away
.

She swallowed hard. She closed her eyes and tried to be somewhere else, but she was all too aware as Guy’s fingers teased down her side to the bottom of her tank top and began to pull the hem up. As each inch was exposed, she felt the nakedness deep under her skin. Slowly, her stomach was bared and, before she knew it, her breasts.

She held her breath.

All was silent. Not even the thick raindrops padded the roof anymore.

Half an hour,
she thought.

His cool fingers fell on her stomach. Her skin curled at his touch even as he slid lower to the hem of her shorts. They slipped underneath and Sam almost bolted upright. This was too much. She’d rather die than let it continue.

Instead she lay still, waiting. Any second his fingers would slip lower and violate her in the worst way. She could almost feel them pressing into her already, even though they remained for the moment at her waistline. The agony of waiting lit her skin on fire.

Terrible seconds passed.