She stumbled to a stop, her voice soft with tears. “At least, let me say good-bye.”
Louis sighed with dramatic exasperation. “Fine. But make it quick.” He took Kelly by the upper arm and guided her out of line, accompanied by his mistress and four armed guards.
Louis shoved her in front of them.
Nate’s heart ached at seeing her. It would’ve been better if she had simply continued past them.
Tears rolled down her face. Kelly shuffled before each of them and said how sorry she was—as if all this were her fault. Nate barely listened, drinking up the sight of her with his eyes, knowing this would be the last time he ever saw her. She bent and placed her cheek against Professor Kouwe’s, then moved to Nate at the end of the line.
She stared down at him, then dropped to her knees. “Nate…”
“Hush,” he said with a sad smile, the word a secret reminder of their night together. “Hush.”
Fresh tears flowed. “I heard about Manny,” she said. “I’m so sorry.”
Nate closed his eyes and bowed his head. “If you get a chance,” he said under his breath, “kill that French bastard.”
She leaned into him, sliding her cheek next to his. “I promise,” she whispered at his ear, like a lover sharing a secret.
He turned his face and met her lips, not caring who saw. He kissed her one last time. She met his kiss, gasping between their joined lips.
Then she was torn away, yanked to her feet by Favre. He had a hand clenched around her arm. “It would seem you two have been sharing more than just a professional relationship,” he said with a sneer.
Favre whipped Kelly around and kissed her hard on the mouth. She cried out in surprise and shock. Louis released her, throwing her back toward the Indian woman. Blood dripped from his lip.
Kelly had bitten him.
He wiped his chin. “Don’t worry, Nathan. I’ll take good care of your woman.” He glanced back to Kelly and his mistress. “Tshui and I will make sure her stay with us is an enjoyable one. Won’t we, Tshui?”
The Indian witch leaned closer to their prisoner and fingered a curl of Kelly’s auburn hair, sniffing at it.
“See, Nathan. Tshui is already intrigued.”
Nate struggled to lunge at the man, fighting his bonds. “You bastard,” he hissed, choking as the strangle noose tightened.
“Calm yourself, my boy.” Louis stepped back, putting an arm around Kelly. “She’s in good hands.”
Tears of frustration rolled down his face. His breath was a ragged gasp as the noose dug into the flesh of his neck. Still he struggled. He would die anyway. What did it matter if he strangled or burned?
Louis glanced down at him sadly, then dragged Kelly away. The man mumbled as he left, “A shame…such a nice boy, but so much tragedy in his life.”
Nate began to see stars dancing at the edges of his blackening vision.
Kouwe hissed at Nate. “Stop struggling, Nate.”
“Why?” he gasped.
“Where there is life, there is hope.”
Nate sagged in his bonds, not so much finding significance in the professor’s words as simple defeat. His breathing became incrementally easier. He stared after the retreating mercenary band, but his eyes stayed focused on Kelly. She glanced back one time, just before disappearing into the jungle fringe. Then she was gone.
The group remained silent, except for a mumbled prayer from Anna. Behind them, a few of the Indian prisoners had begun to sing a mournful melody, while others simply cried. They continued to sit, with no hope, baking under the sun as it trailed toward the western horizon. With each breath or sob, their deaths drew nearer.
“Why didn’t he just shoot us?” Sergeant Kostos mumbled.
“It’s not Favre’s way,” Professor Kouwe answered.
“He wants us to appreciate our deaths. A slow torture. It excites the bastard.”
Nate closed his eyes, defeated.
After an hour, a huge explosion shattered off to the south. Nate opened his eyes and watched a thick column of smoke and rock dust blast into the sky.
“They blew the chasm,” Carrera said at the other end of the line.
Nate turned away. The explosion echoed for a few seconds, then died away. All of them now waited for one last explosion, the one that would take their lives and burn through the valley.
As silence again descended over them, Nate heard a distinctive cough from the forest’s edge. A jaguar’s cough.
Kouwe glanced over to Nate.
“Tor-tor?” Nate asked, experiencing a twinge of hope.
From the jungle’s edge, a jaguar pushed into the open glade. But it was not the spotted face of their friend’s pet.
The huge black jaguar slunk into the open, sniffing, lips pulled back in a silent and hungry snarl.
5:35 P.M.
Kelly walked beside Frank’s stretcher. The two bearers seemed tireless, marching through the jungles of the lower canyon like muscled robots. Kelly, with no burden except for her heavy heart, found her feet stumbling over every root and branch.
Favre had set a hard pace for the group. He wanted to reach the swamp lake and disappear into the forests south of it before the fiery explosion ripped through the upper canyon.
“After that, the military will be flocking there like flies on shit,” Favre had warned. “We must be well gone.”
Kelly had also eavesdropped on the chatter among the mercenary grunts, spoken in a patois of Portuguese and Spanish. Favre had radioed ahead and arranged for motor boats to meet them at a river only a day’s march from here. Once there, they would quickly speed away.
But first they had to get to the rendezvous spot without getting caught—and that meant speed was essential. Favre would brook no laggers, including Kelly. The monster had confiscated Manny’s bullwhip, snapping it periodically as he moved through the line, like a slavemaster overseeing his crew. Kelly already had a taste of its stinging touch, when she had fallen to her knees as the chasm had exploded behind them. She had been so wrung with hopelessness, she had not been able to move. Then fire had lit her shoulder. The whip had split her shirt and stung her skin. She knew better than to falter from that point on.
Frank spoke from his stretcher. “Kelly…”
She leaned down toward him.
“We’ll get out of this,” he said, slurring. Despite her brother’s earlier protests, she had given him a jolt of Demerol before being transported from the Yagga’s healing ward. She hadn’t wanted him to suffer by their manhandling. “We’ll make it.”