“You people are a mess,” the man with the light said.
“I’m Kevin Marshall and this is Melanie Becket and Candace Brickmann.”
“I know who you are,” the man said flatly. “Let’s get out of this shithole.”
Kevin and the women were happy to comply on rubbery legs. The two men followed. Once out of the cave, the three friends had to squint in the bright, hazy sunlight. Below the face of the cliff were a half dozen more animal handlers. They were busy rolling up tranquilized bonobos in reed mats and lifting them onto a trailer where they were carefully positioned side by side.
“There’s one more up here in this cave,” the man with the flashlight yelled down to the others.
“I know you two,” Melanie said once she got a good view of the men who’d come into the cave. “You’re Dave Turner and Daryl Christian.”
The men ignored Melanie. Dave, the taller of the two, pulled a two-way radio out of a holder at his waist. Daryl started climbing down the giant steps.
“Turner to base,” Dave said into the instrument.
“I hear you loud and clear,” Bertram said on the other end.
“We got the last of the bonobos and we’re loading up,” Dave said.
“Excellent work,” Bertram said.
“We found Kevin Marshall and the two women in a cave,” Dave said.
“In what state?” Bertram asked.
“Filthy but otherwise apparently healthy,” Dave said.
“Give me that thing!” Melanie said, reaching for Dave’s radio. Suddenly, she didn’t like being talked about disparagingly by an underling.
Dave fended her off. “What do you want me to do with them?”
Melanie put her hands on her hips. She was incensed. “What do you mean ‘what to do with them’?”
“Bring them to the animal center,” Bertram said. “I’ll inform Siegfried Spallek. I’m sure he’ll want to talk with them.”
“Ten-four,” Dave said. He snapped off the radio.
“What’s the meaning of this kind of treatment?” Melanie demanded. “We’ve been prisoners out here for more than two days.”
Dave shrugged. “We just follow orders, ma’am. It seems as if you two have riled up the front office big time.”
“What on earth is happening to the bonobos?” Kevin asked. When he’d first seen what the men were doing, he’d assumed it had all been for the purpose of their rescue. But the more he thought about it he couldn’t understand why the animals were being loaded onto a trailer.
“The bonobos’ good life on the island is a thing of the past,” Dave said. “They’ve been warring out here and killing each other. We’ve found four corpses as evidence, all bashed with stone wedges. So we’re caging them at the staging area in preparation for taking them all to the animal center. It’ll be six-foot concrete cells from now on as far as I know.”
Kevin’s mouth slowly fell open. In spite of his hunger, exhaustion, and aches and pains, he felt a profound sadness for these unfortunate creatures who’d not asked to be created or born. Their lives had suddenly and arbitrarily been doomed to monotonous incarceration. Their human potential was not to be realized, and their striking accomplishments thus far would be lost.
Daryl and three other men were now on their way up with a litter.
Kevin turned to look back inside the cave. In the far shadows, he could see Arthur’s profile near the lip of the chamber where Kevin and the women had been kept. A tear formed in the corner of Kevin’s eye as he imagined how Arthur was going to feel when he awoke to find himself encased in steel.
“All right, you three,” Dave said. “Let’s start back. Are you strong enough to walk or you want to ride on the trailer?”
“How do you move the trailer?” Kevin asked.
“We’ve got an all-terrain vehicle on the island,” Dave said.
“I’ll walk, thank you,” Melanie said icily.
Kevin and Candace nodded in agreement.
“We’re awfully hungry, though,” Kevin said. “The animals have only been offering us insects, worms, and marsh grass.”
“We’ve got some candy bars and soft drinks in a locker on the front of the trailer,” Dave said.
“That should be just fine,” Kevin said.
The climb down the rock face was the hardest part of the trip. Once on the flat, the walking was easy, especially since the animal handlers had cleared the trail for the all-terrain vehicle.
Kevin was impressed with how much the workers had accomplished in so short a time. As he emerged into the marshy field south of Lago Hippo, he wondered if the canoe was still hidden in the reeds. He guessed it probably was. There was no reason it would have been found.
Candace was elated when she saw the earth-covered timber bridge and said as much. She’d been worrying how they were going to get across the Rio Diviso.
“You people have been busy,” Kevin commented.
“We had no choice,” Dave said. “We had to round up these animals in the quickest time possible.”
Kevin, Melanie, and Candace began to get seriously fatigued on the last mile segment from the Rio Diviso bridge to the staging area. It was especially apparent when they had to step off the trail for the all-terrain vehicle to pass on its way back for the last trailer-load of bonobos. Stopping and standing just for a moment made their legs feel like lead.
Everybody breathed a sigh of relief when they emerged from the twilight of the jungle into the bustling staging area in the clearing. Another half dozen blue-coveralled workers were toiling under the hot sun. They were quickly unloading the bonobos from a second trailer and getting them into individual steel cages before the animals revived.
The cages were four-foot square steel boxes, making it impossible for all but the youngest animals to stand up. The only source of ventilation was through the bars in the doors. The doors were secured by an angled hasp that latched around the side beyond the animal’s reach. Kevin was able to catch glimpses of terrified bonobos cowering within the cages’ shadows.
Such small cages were supposed to be used only for transport, but a forklift was laboriously moving them into the shade of the north-facing wall of the jungle, suggesting they were staying on the island. One of the workers was manning a hose from a gasoline-powered pump and spraying the cages and the animals with river water.
“I thought you said the bonobos were going to the animal center?” Kevin asked.
“Not today,” Dave said. “For the moment, there is no place to put them. It’ll be tomorrow or the next day at the very latest.”
There was no trouble getting over to the mainland because the telescoping bridge had been deployed. It was constructed of steel and had a hollow, drumlike sound as they trodded across. Parked alongside the bridge mechanism was Dave’s pickup truck.
“Hop in,” Dave said, while pointing into the truck’s bed.
“Just one minute!” Melanie snapped. They were her first words since leaving the cave. “We’re not riding in the back of a truck.”
“Then you’ll walk,” Dave said. “You’re not riding in my cab.”
“Come on, Melanie,” Kevin urged. “It will be more pleasant back here in the open air.” Kevin gave Candace a hand.
Dave went around and got in behind the wheel.
Melanie resisted for another minute. With her hands on her hips, her legs spread apart, and her lips pressed together, she looked like a young girl on the verge of a temper tantrum.
“Melanie, it’s not that far,” Candace said. She reached out her hand. Reluctantly, Melanie took it.
“I didn’t expect a hero’s welcome,” Melanie complained. “But I didn’t expect this kind of treatment.”
After the damp oppressiveness of the cave and the moist hothouse of the jungle, the breezy ride in the back of the truck was unexpectedly pleasant. The bed was filled with reed mats that had been used to transport the animals, and they provided adequate cushion. The mats had a rather rank smell, but the group guessed they did, too.
They lay on their backs and watched patches of the late-afternoon sky appear between the branches of the overhead canopy of trees.