Amy grabbed a roll of paper towels, pulled off two pieces and then poured water to wet them. She used it to cool her friend’s burning forehead before wiping sweat. “You’re burning up.”
“The ones that come on like a beast are normally fast to run through the system,” Lorna said, before another round of let’s-see-what-Lorna’s-stomach-bile-looks-like happened.
Holding her breath, Amy had to look away or risk joining her friend.
“We need to get moving,” Donnie announced. Amy liked him less and less by the minute. At least she had A.J.
She took a couple of steps away from Lorna so she didn’t breathe in the smells emanating from the trash can and filmed Donnie strutting around like he owned the campsite.
Off camera, Amy whispered, “Take care of yourself.”
Lorna heaved again, and then waved Amy off.
She could do this. She could go into the jungle with two strangers for the sake of her career. She could leave her best friend behind to recover alone, despite everything inside her screaming that she should stick around.
No one had documented an anaconda longerthan thirty-three feet. If they could find a larger one, it would make all three of their careers. At thirty-one, Amy was already behind the curve, playing catchup, still slinging drinks at Hank’s Honkey-Tonk, a bar outside of Houston, in order to finance her expensive camera equipment. Hank gave her time off when she needed it without much advanced notice, and as much as she detested wearing Daisy Duke shorts and pigtails, the dress code maximized tips and allowed her to work three nights a week while keeping a roof over her head.
With her camera on, she slowly swept the encampment, pausing on an area of fresh-cut trees near the riverbed.
“The team arrived at this location approximately forty-five minutes ago. Our Pirahã guide. belongs to the only surviving subgroup of the Mura. Pirahã, who are indigenous to the Amazon Rainforest in Brazil, are known for walking into the jungle without tools, weapons, or additional clothing and returning sometimes days later with full baskets of game and fruit. As you can see, A.J. is wearing a pair of button-down shorts similar to what you might find at a local Target back home. The only other thing he’s wearing is a multi-colored beaded necklace similar to the ones others wear.”She panned the camera to him.“He carries a bow and arrow along with a machete to defend us. Nothing else.”
Amy kept recording after walking over to A.J. “Where is your food and water?”
A.J. shook his head. He had thick, black hair in a bowl cut. “I eat if there’s food. If there’s no food, I wait.” He puffed his chest out. His wide smile revealed several missing teeth.
“He is clearly proud of his self-reliance,”Amy said quietly as she zoomed in.“Why do you take on these types of expeditions?”
“Food for my kids,” he responded. He put his hand out flat, indicating a height of about three and a half feet and then four feet tall. “I have a baby on the way.” He held up three fingers. “Mouths to feed.” His face lit up. “Green stuff is good. Money makes the world go round. Right?” He was especially pleased with himself for the last remark.
A.J. is thin and looks more like a teenager than a twenty-seven-year-old with two children and a baby on the way.
“Let’s move out.” Donnie’s impatience was written all over his expression.
Amy panned to him and then to the waiting canoe, if it could be called that.
Donnie had pulled his hair back in a ponytail that hung between his shoulder blades.
Amy had no idea what Lorna saw in the guy, but she said they’d been discussing having a familytogether someday. Amy shrugged as she kept rolling.To each their own.
The river had a unique, musky scent. Amy wasn’t sure what she’d expected to smell. Death? In an environment like the Amazon, would a carcass be picked apart in a matter of hours? A day? Any smell would mean death had been recent and was probably a sign they needed to get the hell out of there.
To go where?
All her doubts about being here flooded back. Her safety net was gone, at least for a day or two until Lorna could catch up.
“This way,” A.J. said, his voice more of a whistle than a tone. He led them to the long canoe, which essentially was a hollowed-out tree trunk with palm fronds covering the inside, forming an upside-down thatched roof effect.
A.J. urged her to get inside, his narrow gaze and compressed lips outlining his impatience as she filmed the experience. Distracted, the canoe swayed. A.J. grunted. Amy dropped her camera but the guide swooped it up before the expensive piece of equipment hit the palms. His quick reaction strengthened her faith in him further. Amy took in a deep breath for fortitude. This seemed like a good time to remind herself that A.J. was a professional. He did these types of expeditions all the time.
She tried to take the camera back but he shookhis head as he held onto the side of the canoe with his other hand. He gestured for her to sit down.
Good idea.
Amy eased down, careful not to tip the canoe, and then stabilized herself by sitting cross-legged in the dead center of the watercraft. It was then that A.J. handed over the camera with a hint of a smile. His serious expression concerned her, but she’d reasoned that she didn’t want her life in the hands of a goofball. And, according to Lorna, there was no one who understood the Amazon better than A.J.
Once all three were onboard, A.J. paddled them into the unknown. Sounds changed as chirps, whistles, and monkey calls drowned out every other noise. The thought of what might be in the trees, other than monkeys, rocked her body with an involuntary shiver. What lurked below in the murky brown-green waters caused icy fingers to grip her spine.
The only explanation for her being here was desperation. Her life had come to this. To chasing monsters to kick off her career. Would a 9-5 desk job have been so bad?