Riley twisted out from beneath the pile of woolly monkeys, coming up on one knee, using a two-fisted grip to steady the gun. She couldn't see anything. There were dozens of gray and olive, red-brown and black monkeys between her and Annabel. The ones leaping on her mother had driven her back into the dense brush, and all Riley could see were the furry bodies in some kind of shrieking frenzy. She didn't dare shoot at them for fear of hitting Annabel.
Her mother screamed again, the sound terrified, reverberating through Riley's head. She scrambled to her feet, only to have another wave of primates slam her back to the ground. Each woolly monkey weighed close to seventeen pounds, and they dropped hard from the branches overhead, using their weight and sheer numbers to crush the humans under them.
The buzzing in her head, that awful chant, swelled in volume-in command. Han kalma, emni han ku kod alte. Tappatak ��ama��. Tappatak ��ama��.
She could hear the words echoing through her mind, over and over, a guttural, deep-throated chant, almost like the monks she'd heard in Tibet when throat-chanting. The sound disturbed on the most elemental level, raising the hair on her body, making her skull ache, flashing through her nervous system until she wanted to shriek like the monkeys.
Riley tried to roll away from the attacking creatures, but they stuck like glue, attaching themselves to her hair and clothing and pack, holding on as if their lives depended on it. As a rule, woolly monkeys lived in the higher elevations, farther up in the cloud forest, and they weren't threatening to anyone. They lived in social groups of up to forty, but the numbers dropping from the trees and attacking all members in their party were far more than forty.
Sobbing, Riley threw monkeys off of her, uncaring that they were using teeth and claws to drive her to the earth, and every time she hurled one away, they shredded skin. She rose to her feet fast, whirling in a circle trying to orient herself. The woolly monkeys were everywhere, an army of them, and the men were trying to fight them off, just as she was.
She kicked at them, and one sank his teeth into her leg, trying to drag her down just as she spotted the dense foliage where her mother fought off the crazed primates. The entire scene was surreal, unreal, a nightmare of violence and blood and screams. A gun barked behind her, and somewhere in front of her, another answered. She ran forward, kicking and swearing, sweeping a path clear to get to her mother. Twice she shot one of the monkeys in midair as they flung themselves at her face.
She ran toward the spot where she was certain her mother had been dragged. Annabel's screams were loud and shocked and horrible, an animal in pain, pierced through with utter terror. Riley couldn't see her through the screen of bodies. She had no idea where the porter, Capa, or Gary was, so there was no way to fire into the thrashing bodies of the primates safely even though every cell in her body commanded her to do so.
Woolly monkeys arrived in masses, far more than one troop of forty, dropping through the trees faster than the humans could get on their feet. The battle was something out of a horror movie, vicious and unreal. Her mother's screams abruptly stopped. Riley's heart jumped and more adrenaline flooded her body. The lack of sound was far worse.
Cursing, sobbing, Riley fought her way through the solid barriers of maddened primates to get to the place where Annabel had been driven off the trail. There was blood everywhere, dark pools of it. As she kicked away an aggressive monkey, a crimson arch sprayed into the air, splashing across the leaves of nearby brush, across tree trunks and the monkeys. For a moment she thought the monkeys were bleeding, but then she saw him. The porter. Not Raul, but his brother, Capa, chopping down over and over with a bloody machete.
Her heart stopped. She couldn't see if it was her mother or the monkeys he was attacking, but there was so much blood. Far too much. With another vicious kick, she sent another monkey sprawling on the ground, giving her a glimpse of her mother's body. She squeezed the trigger over and over, emptying the magazine into Capa, running forward as she shot him, knowing it was already too late. She slapped the second magazine into place.
Simultaneously, Gary shot, his bullets entering the porter from the side, spinning him around. Uncaring that she was running into a blaze of gunfire, Riley rushed forward, kicking and punching and even shooting the monkeys to get to her mother. Capa went down hard, the machete flying from his hand. Gary continued to shoot the primates surrounding her mother.
Riley pushed aside the brush and stopped abruptly, her mouth wide open, an agonized scream nearly shredding her vocal cords. She stared into the brush with absolute horror and shock filling her. She wasn't even certain what she was seeing, comprehension impossible. For one moment, it looked as if she'd stumbled on a massacre. Her mind tried to tell her that everything soaking into the ground and brush was from monkeys, but her body had gone into some kind of shock, almost numb, frozen and somewhere deep inside she knew, she just couldn't accept the truth. There was so much blood. She couldn't see flesh, only strips of cloth and hair. She forced her body to move forward, bile rising.
"No, Riley." Arms came around her, preventing her from moving. Hands covered hers, removing the Glock. "Come away from here. There's nothing you can do and there's no need to see this." Gary's voice was extremely gentle, coming from a long distance away.
The world faded in and out. Her stomach lurched and she tried to turn her head, to look away from the mangled body, but it was impossible. The blood was so dark. Curly hair lay on the ground, strands and tufts across fronds of fern, matted and muddy red. She saw fingers and part of a hand. Strips of clothing covered in blood. There wasn't a place in a five-foot radius that wasn't soaked red. It was impossible to tell what lay in that dark dense foliage.
She was aware of the sudden silence in the rain forest. No sound at all. No drone of insects. No gunfire. No shouting. The buzzing in her head was gone, to be replaced by her silent screams of protest. The world around her receded and then sharply focused, only to recede again.
"Riley," Gary spoke in her ear, his voice calm and firm. "You have to come with me now. Looking at her isn't going to help."
His hands urged her frozen body to move, to take steps, but she had no control, the shaking, the anger, the grief welling up like a volcano, from deep beneath the shivering ground, straight through her body, until her heart wanted to stop beating and her lungs refused to work.
She tried to tell Gary she couldn't breathe, couldn't draw in air. The scent of blood was too heavy, permeating the entire area. He simply lifted her off her feet and began to stride away. She caught a glimpse of Capa, the porter, lying in his own pool of blood, the machete a few inches from his hand. His body was intact, although all life had run out of him onto the ground.
A sob escaped and she gripped Gary's arm hard, her only reality in a world gone mad. Annabel murdered in such a savage way was unthinkable. Her mind just refused to process, but her body was wholly aware and reacting with shutting down. She wasn't certain she could have stood on her own if her life depended on it. Gary allowed her to sink into the carpet of vegetation, a short distance away from the site of her mother's murder.
She was aware of her traveling companions on some level, actors in a play. Their slow reactions. Turning heads. Mouths open with shock. The bodies of dead monkeys were scattered like litter across the ground, adding to the macabre scene. Everything around her blurred, and it took a moment to realize her eyes were swimming with tears.
The monkeys that hadn't suddenly taken to the trees appeared as confused as she felt, wandering in circles, as if they'd lost all direction. On the edge of her vision, she saw the three guides picking themselves off the ground, all disheveled and streaked with blood from the attacks of the woolly monkeys. The three brothers ignored the scattered primates and looked uneasily toward the rain forest and the two bodies that lay just out of their sight. They whispered to one another in low, hushed voices, before making up their minds to see what had transpired.
Jubal moved out into the open to face them, his clothes torn from the vicious, concentrated attack, showing evidence he'd tried to get back to Annabel and was stopped just as Riley had been. The three guides hesitated, but continued slowly forward, craning their necks, hands gripping weapons.
Dr. Henry Patton picked himself up gingerly from the ground and hurried over to help one of his students, Marty Shepherd, up. The man appeared to be in tears, almost hysterical, slapping at Patton and fighting when Todd Dillon rushed over to aid him as well. Marty was pulled to his feet, but instantly sank back to the ground with the other two men bending solicitously over him.
Riley rocked herself back and forth, trying to take in that her mother had been murdered just feet from her. She looked down at the rich dirt, thick from hundreds-thousands-of years of vegetation, of death and rebirth. Above her head, the sky darkened subtly. She glanced up as she dropped her hands and buried them deep in the layers of black dirt. Clouds swirled ominously overhead, forming towers rising high. The wind stirred her hair, even there, under the stillness of the canopy, while the branches of the trees emerging from the canopy whipped back and forth in a frenzy of activity.
She took a breath and let it out. A long keening moan escaped from her throat. At the sound, the remaining monkeys took to the trees, the mourning notes following them through the rain forest. Instead of moving up the mountain, the troop of woolly monkeys moved away from their natural home high up in the cloud forest.
Don Weston and Mack Shelton stumbled back into sight. Both had run when the monkeys had descended. Neither appeared to have a scratch. They'd made it far enough away from the battle to evade the onslaught of the primates. They both appeared shaken.
"What the hell happened here?" Don demanded, surveying his scratched and bloody companions as well as the furry bodies on the ground. "I thought monkeys were the least of our worries."
Miguel turned to look at him over his shoulder. "Monkeys do not attack men."
"I got news for you, genius," Don responded with a shuddering snort. "They just did. Do they have rabies?" He actually stepped back away from the others and swept his arm across Mack's body to prevent him from getting any closer to the others.
Jubal sighed. "They don't have rabies, Don, but we have to disinfect every single scratch before anyone gets an infection. Marty, I need you and Todd to get busy doing that. Start with yourselves. The medical kits are in the packs. Once you make certain both of you have covered every scratch, use the antibiotics and then split up and help the others."
Riley heard him from a distance. She even knew what he was doing, taking charge, bolstering the two shaken students, giving them something active to do in order to help them recover. She couldn't move a muscle. There was no recovering. She felt numb, beyond comprehension. Her mind struggled to understand, and on some level she knew she was in shock, but she couldn't pull herself together.
She dug her fingers into the soil, the only thing real she could hold on to. Dragging two fistfuls out of the earth, she closed her fingers tight around the dirt and just let herself cry. Tears ran down her face, obscuring her vision, falling into the soil, but she could hear the others coming out of their shock, moving around, doing as Jubal instructed.
Jorge, Fernando and Hector, three of the four remaining porters, all cousins, approached Jubal hesitantly from the left side, careful to keep an even pace with the guides who were confronting Jubal straight on.
Ben Charger moved in behind them, deliberately making noise so they were very aware of his presence. Across from the porters, closing in on Jubal, was the fourth porter, Raul. Gary followed him at an easy pace, but, like Ben, making it known he was right behind the porter. He carried his weapon openly.
Miguel stopped in front of Jubal. "Who is hurt?"
"Not hurt, dead," Jubal corrected. "Your porter murdered Annabel. What's left of her is in those bushes over there." He nodded toward the dense foliage but didn't take his eyes from Miguel or step back.
Miguel's gaze followed the direction of Jubal's nod. He swallowed hard and took a step toward the darkened brush. "What about Capa? Where is he?"
"He's dead, too," Jubal answered, his voice grim, a warning inflection in his voice. "We were too late to stop him."
Silence once again descended, the news clearly shocking everyone. The men looked at one another. Miguel nodded and led the way to the bloody brush. His brothers followed him silently. The porters skirted around Jubal, who turned to face them all. Ben and Gary flanked them from either side, clearly not trusting what their reaction to the death of their cousin would be.
Don and Mack followed a little behind them, craning their necks, trying to see. Riley held her breath as the men approached the dense foliage. She didn't want any of them seeing her mother that way. She wanted to scream at them to get away from the body, especially the two engineers. She knew the moment they all spotted the body.
The porters stepped back, backs and shoulders stiffening. They looked from Capa's body to what was left of Annabel. There could be no doubt what had transpired.
Don leaned over and was sick again and again. Mack gagged and turned away, pressing his hand to his mouth. Riley felt the exact moment they both turned their horrified gazes on her. She refused to look at them. If she held herself very still, her mind wouldn't fly apart and her shattered heart would remain inside her body. The screams in her head would stay there, locked away forever.
Don stood up slowly, glanced once more into the brush and hastily turned his head away. He made his way slowly over to Riley. He stood there for a moment in silence before clearing his throat.
"I'm sorry about your mother, Riley."
She couldn't look at him. She nodded her head, pressing her hands deeper into the dirt. She was so numb that the only thing she could feel on her skin was the sensation of the earth.
Mack shuffled over, just as awkward, but well meaning. "I'm so sorry, Riley. There are no words. This is terrible."
Again she nodded, unable to answer them. Life was pulling her back from the brink of disaster. She couldn't completely lose control. She had to find a way for her brain to function, to think of what to do next.
The four porters picked up the body of their cousin and carried it off into deeper brush.
"What are they doing?" Jubal asked Miguel.
"They will bury him properly," Miguel said. "In our way. We will take care of ..."
As the three guides stepped closer to Annabel, Riley's entire body rebelled. Even the earth beneath her seemed to violently protest, shuddering in a wave of protest. The ground shivered, rose up in two-inch waves and sent vibrations through her body. She "felt" the instant protest and with it came a need to act, to move quickly, to do something-she just wasn't quite certain what.
"Don't let them touch her," Riley pleaded. "Jubal, they can't touch her."
Miguel turned to her, his eyes filled with sorrow. "We didn't wish for this to happen, Riley. We would never want your mother dead. Capa was not himself. He was a gentle man with a wife and son. He would never harm someone if he wasn't out of his mind. We need to give your mother a proper burial in the way of your people."
She knew the guide was sincere. She heard it in his voice and saw it on his face, but a deeper force drove her. Her mother's body could not be touched. Riley forced herself to her feet, shaking her head. Her body felt weak, her legs rubbery, but she had to get up. Beneath her feet, the earth pushed at her, driving her out of her shock.
"Don't let anyone touch her," she repeated, looking past Miguel to Jubal. She forced herself to meet the guide's eyes. "We have our own ways, Miguel, and I must attend to her."
She found it a little terrifying to approach that horrible site of blood and death in front of all of them, but it had to be done, even if she had a complete breakdown. She had no idea what she needed to do, but the drive was powerful in her now, pushing her to move.
Weston and Shelton stepped back silently to allow her to walk slowly toward her mother's body. Riley was aware of the hush descending once more on the group. The two students, busy disinfecting the wounds on themselves and their professor, halted to watch her approach the brush, marred with bloodstains.
"Tell us what you need, Riley," Gary said, coming up beside her. "We'll help you."
She wasn't altogether certain what she needed, but she nodded slightly, waiting a moment before she looked at her mother. She approached cautiously, steeling herself for the sight of Annabel's mangled body. It wasn't her mother, she reminded herself, only the shell left behind. Her mother was long gone and once again with the man she loved so much for so many years.
The wind touched her face as she neared the dense underbrush, fingers of comfort tugging the tears from her eyes. She held her head high, chin up, took a deep breath and then allowed her gaze to move very slowly, one inch at a time, into the darkened brush. Her stomach lurched, and she caught her breath, a lump in her throat threatening to choke her. The ground moved again, gently urging her forward.
Deep beneath the thick vegetation, Riley felt the thrum of the earth's heartbeat. Her pulse jumped-matched that steady, comforting rhythm. She felt her veins tingle, a network running through her body, connected to the very planet she lived on. The flora and fauna around her breathed life into the air, and she took it into her lungs. Inside, she felt something stir, awaken, become aware. With each tentative step she took toward that place of murder and death, she became more certain of what she needed to do.
Her veins throbbed and burned, an electrical current flashing through her body until she felt her blood ran with the very sap in the leaves of the trees, connecting her to all of nature. Like a sleeping dragon awakening for the first time, the energy arced and spread until it consumed every cell in its wake. Her mind filled with images from a life not lived or previously known, but so familiar she recognized everything as if the knowledge had always been there, imprinted in her brain just waiting for this moment when she woke.
Riley paused, everything in her going still, the better to absorb the monumental changes happening so fast in her body and mind. Around her, the others faded far into the background as her every sense seemed to heighten. Moisture hung heavy in the air. She could feel the individual droplets on her skin, breathe them into her lungs. Beneath her feet, the earth moved again, urging her forward. She knew exactly what she had to do-cleanse her mother's body and consecrate her, preparing for her return to Mother Earth. Annabel was a daughter of the earth, lent for a short time and she needed to be returned with reverence and thanks.
She would have to set the four corners and call in the elements and directions that would bind the energies, but first she would honor her mother by purifying and cleansing her body. The blood seeping into the ground no longer sickened her. Everywhere that dark liquid of life touched, the soil reached for the richness, her mother's life, refueling and enriching in the cycle of rebirth.
Riley raised her hands to the sky, calling to the moisture, drawing all those heavy drops to her. Rain answered, a fine shower, falling across the remains of her mother's body, mixing with her blood so that it seemed to come alive, moving in droplets off the leaves and branches to roll to the ground and slowly begin to seep deep into the earth. When the last of the blood had disappeared into the ground, Riley called to the currents of air swirling in the canopy, waiting all along for her to utilize the element. The rain ceased as the wind circled the body, acting as a fan, drying Annabel's remains.
Deep inside, Riley felt a burning through her body, that electrical current leaping to light, and her hands stretched toward her mother, weaving an intricate pattern in the air. She was absolutely certain of every movement, no hesitation, the weave leaping to life until a low blue ethereal flame burned over the remains and was instantly gone.
She reached down and took soil into her hands. "Mother Earth, I'm returning your daughter to you. I thank you for the gift of life. The years of happiness. The service to humanity." As she murmured the words, she allowed the rich soil to drift over Annabel's remains.
Riley looked to the north and called in the power of Air. As the currents once again began to swirl around her, she faced south, calling on the power of Earth. The ground answered, trembling, coming alive. She turned toward the east and called Fire, until the area around her mother's body was etched in low-burning flame. She faced west and called to the power of Water to purify and renew.
Riley's hands again began to weave a pattern, a conductor of an orchestra, as she murmured soft, powerful words. "Air, Earth, Fire, Water, hear my prayer. See your daughter look upon her child this night. Aid her healing through this plight. Let fire fuel a savage cleansing. Let air sweep away negative endings. Water clears the cleansing pyre as Earth brings forth renewed desire. Air, Earth, Fire, Water, design a ring of natural power. Circle round and thrice be bound, take your daughter into the ground. Accept your daughter back this night and always hold her close and tight. Let none disturb this place of peace and within this circle may my mother find peace. As above, so below."
Earth took a long breath. Riley felt it. Heard it. The answer to her prayerful ritual. The ground trembled. Rippled. Came alive. Everywhere the pools and spattered droplets of Annabel's blood had sunk deep, flowers and green plants shot up, pushing through rich soil toward the sky. Again the land shivered. Beneath the torn body, the rain forest floor cracked and sank, pulling Annabel's remains into those deep crevices. Black loam bubbled up, rich with minerals, and with it, shoots of green burst through the dirt to reach for the sky.
There was no trace of Annabel, or the gore that had been. Plants were so thick the entire terrain had become a grotto of beauty. Lying in the middle of a sea of starry night flowers was Mother Earth's offering-her mother's necklace. The piece had been handed down through generations, and Annabel had never taken it off once her mother had died.
Riley placed one foot carefully in front of the other, circling her mother's resting place, allowing the peace to seep into her bones. She sank into that field of white flowers, and placed her hands on either side of the gift remaining from her mother. The stalks and petals reached for her. The soil moved over her, rushing around her, welcoming her.
The connection hit her like a fireball, storming through her body, unfurling in her brain, the earth reaching out to her, welcoming her daughter, sharing her gifts. Knowledge grew fast, spread through her veins, into her bones, pressed into every cell. From the core of the planet, she felt the heartbeat, heard the whispers of truth, of creation. The plants close to her reached to wrap tendrils around her, to touch her. Trees bent without wind, dipping low to honor her. The wind touched her face, breathing cool air across her warm face.
The soil poured over her bare fingers, and as it did, she felt the easing of her terrible grief. The lump burning in her throat lessened, giving her relief. As her fingers dug deep, searching for that last connection with her mother, she felt a ripple in the ground, a subtle echo of evil. Her mother's consecrated resting place pushed that whisper, that last gasp of evil away, but Riley's stomach lurched. Everything her mother had told her about her past and the volcano was true. Triumph permeated the soil, harsh glee that her mother had been brutally murdered, leaving evil to once again emerge and roam free, feeding on innocents.
Her heart stuttered. The evil faded back in the direction of the volcano. A sense of urgency assailed her. She had to get to the mountain and seal it before whatever monstrous thing was held prisoner could escape. Quickly she pulled her hands from the soil, and turned her head to look toward the smoldering mountain.
Riley reached down into the bed of white star flowers and lifted the heirloom from the blossoms, a gift given by Mother Earth to her long-dead ancestor. Her fingers trembled as she ran the pad of her thumb over the fine silver in the shape of a large dragon with eyes of fiery agate. The claws held an orb of obsidian. She stared down at the piece, remembering all the times her mother had shown it to her, hidden there like treasure around her neck, guarded beneath her clothing. The thin chain was gone, so Riley slipped the gift into her pocket and zipped the pocket closed.
Gary held out his hand to her and Riley allowed him to help her up. For the first time she looked around at her fellow travelers. They all wore sympathetic expressions and were watching her closely. She realized that the forest had obscured their vision of her and what she was doing, branches reaching out, both brush and trees, to hide the purification ritual from interested eyes.
"We need to tend to those wounds," Gary said.
"I have to go," Riley said. "There's no time."
Gary shook his head. "You know you can't take chances. Disinfect the bites and scratches and we'll gather everything and get going."
The others one by one filed past Annabel's resting place, touching Riley's shoulder, nodding at her, some murmuring a prayer. The three guides performed their own ritual. Riley, as Gary turned her battle wounds into streaks of fire, looked around for the porters.
"It wasn't his fault," she said. "Capa. It wasn't his fault."
Miguel turned to look at her. "Thank you for that."
"Don't you feel the difference? That awful droning buzz is gone," Riley pointed out. "Ouch." She pushed at Gary's hand. He ignored her and continued dabbing on some fiery liquid. "Don't you feel lighter? The dread is gone. All the tension. Two people just died and we should all be very tense, but instead, that horrible feeling of impending doom has disappeared."
Ben, standing close, answered her. "I noticed that, too. The professor and his students want to turn back. And the volcano is definitely waking up. I don't know how much time we'll have before it blows, and we won't want to be anywhere near it when it goes off."
Riley shook her head. "They can turn back, all of you can, but I have to keep going and I have to get there fast. There's no time to lose."
Ben frowned. "The volcano is a real problem we can't just overlook, Riley."
"I can't explain it, but I have no choice. If I have to, I'll go alone. I've been to this particular mountain several times and I can find my way if need be." She was no longer surprised that it was the truth. She glanced up at the swirling clouds. "Night is falling fast. We have about an hour, and we're going to have to hurry through some very dense jungle."
Gary and Jubal exchanged a long, knowing look. Riley wasn't going to ask. They knew, just as she did, that whatever evil was trapped in the mountain would get out if she didn't stop it. They accepted the truth, just as she did. If they had prior knowledge and weren't saying, she didn't care. She was going up that mountain and nothing was going to stop her.
"Weston and Shelton want to turn back as well," Ben said.
"The porters don't want to go, either," Weston defended, a little belligerently. "A couple of them may have bailed on us already. Two didn't come back after burying the other one."
"The ground is shaking constantly." Mack pointed out the obvious. "There's no doubt an explosion is imminent. We have to get as far from that mountain as possible."
Riley nodded. "I'm in complete agreement. You all should head out of here as fast as possible. I have no choice. I'm heading up the mountain." She pushed past Gary, strength and determination pouring into her. "I'm leaving now. I don't have time to argue with everyone."
Miguel let his breath out. "I'll take you. My brothers can take the others back."
Both of his brothers shook their heads in protest.
Miguel swept his hand toward Annabel's resting place. "I failed her. I will not fail her daughter."
Jubal lifted his pack and swung it onto his back. "I'll go with you."
Gary silently donned his pack as well. Ben Charger did the same.
Weston swore under his breath and not only caught up his backpack, but reached down and took Riley's as well. "I'll carry this for a little while."
Shelton shook his head. "Are you crazy? Damn it, Don, we're going to get killed if that mountain blows. We need to hightail it out of here as fast as we can in the opposite direction."
Don shrugged. "Let's just get it done, and then we can run like hell."
"Pick up the pace, Miguel," Jubal ordered. "We want to make the base of the mountain before nightfall if possible."
Miguel lifted a hand toward his brothers and set off without another word. The professor and his two students remained with the other two guides and two of the porters, who argued heatedly among themselves. At the last moment, Hector caught up a pack of supplies and hurried after Miguel, leaving his cousin shaking his head. Weston and Shelton followed the porter and guide.
Jubal fell in behind them, nodding toward the archaeologist and his students.
Riley caught up her mother's pack and eased it over her shoulders. She hadn't realized how battered and bruised her body was from the monkeys' knocking her around. She followed Jubal.
"Good luck," Gary called to the others as he paced behind Riley, clearly prepared to protect her.
Riley didn't look back. The sense of urgency grew in her even as she realized everything around her had changed. Her focus. Her awareness. Her feet seemed to find the right path of their own volition, avoiding every hazard. The forest breathed for her, providing oxygen to enhance her ability to move quickly through the narrow trails. She knew before she rounded a turn just what was ahead. She felt the forest living in her, whispering comfort, sharing information, advising her.
The pace was fast as the ground tremors increased in frequency and strength and night began to descend. Still, there was a calm and rhythm to the group that had never been before. Riley felt as if she was a part of each of the travelers as they made their way through the tangled jungle.
Behind her in the rear position, she felt Gary, calm and steady, watchful, always alert, ready for anything, just as Jubal, ahead of her, appeared to be. Ben Charger moved well in the forest, his strides sure and his manner confident. Don and Mack were far less so, both nervous and fighting the rugged terrain, although both tried. They were just out of their element.
Miguel, however, familiar with the way and danger of the entire area, radiated fear. Each vine, every branch, the brush blocking their trail was met with a clean stroke of his giant black blade as he removed obstacles from their path. She felt the separation of the long vines, so real she could almost feel the air rush past as each separate piece fell to the forest floor. The foliage tried to retreat from the blade, subtle vibrations warning plants ahead of them.
She began to whisper softly under her breath, asking forgiveness for cutting a trail. They had to rush. There was no time for avoidance, or even the rain forest itself might be lost. Open the trail to them, let them through.
Riley drew in a swift breath. How many times had she heard her mother whispering in a soft, singsong voice as they backpacked through heavy jungle? With every step connecting her to the earth, she felt more connected to her mother, closer to her, more aware of memories.
She touched the end of a severed branch in a kind of reverence. Already there was a light-colored liquid oozing out to meet her fingertips. The plant's lifeblood was cool and sticky, and a calm descended into her mind, helping her to focus on what she needed to do. She placed one foot in front of the next, allowing her hand to linger, keeping contact with the plants until the last possible moment. She felt the shift inside of her, her tight lungs easing, drawing a full breath of fresh air, letting the plants take much of the burden of her sorrow and fear of what was to come.
The tremors continued, giving her a feeling of extreme urgency, a need to hurry faster, and with that came an awareness of the growing fear in their guide. Miguel knew what those tremors meant-an impending eruption. He was responsible for the travelers and he already felt as if he'd failed Annabel. Little by little he was changing the direction, a subtle shift so that it was barely noticeable, but Riley's sense of their objective was acute now, as was the map in her head, leading her to the precise location she needed to be.
She didn't blame Miguel. How could she? He felt weighed down with responsibility and guilt. A memory surfaced of Riley as a child, during one of their trips, a storm raging, pounding the shelter the guide had hastily set up for them. She'd been wrapped in the strength of her mother's embrace as her mother sang softly to take away her tears.
The long-forgotten memory sparked the knowledge of what she had to do. The song came out soft and low, barely a whisper, but she remembered the words and melody from that long-forgotten trip. Her mother had sung the song while they hurried along muddy trails with the rain pouring down. The words formed in her mind and grew in strength.
It wasn't long before the others began to slow their pace, to be closer, to hear more. Riley picked up the pace, moving past Jubal, touching him on the shoulder. Her nodded to her, obviously aware of the soothing quality to her voice and approving of what she was doing.
She continued to walk forward, quickening her pace, softly singing, passing each traveler, touching them gently as she did so, easing their burdens and growing in confidence and power with every step. She reached Miguel. It was clear how far his efforts had taken them off course. The guilt was tangible, but she felt only sadness for him. She understood his need to protect them all, and he'd braved her anger to try to get them away a safe distance from the volcano.
She moved in front of him even as her song drifted to a low hum. Her hands came up and she wove a pattern as she sang to the jungle. The path opened, leaves and branches pulling back to let them move through quickly. Beneath her feet, the ground urged her to hurry. The sense of need grew and spread until it was all-consuming. She became aware of the silence, as if the insects held their breath waiting for her arrival. She felt pressure building beneath her feet.
As if the others all caught that sense of urgency she was feeling, they double-timed it, their feet pounding out the rhythm of her song. The ground shook harder, longer, throwing them all to the forest floor just as they reached the base of the mountain. Riley dug her hands into the soil and felt the enormous force and the tremendous heat in the ground. Instantly she was aware of the triumph of malicious evil rising like the tide, rising with the gases.
She looked up at Jubal with stricken eyes. "I'm too late. It's too late."
