“Why?” the woman said, then immediately looked embarrassed. “I am sorry. Forgive my impoliteness. If one of my children spoke that way I would inform their parents. Hello—” she held out a hand “—I am Brynn.”
Mai shook. “We are soldiers,” she said simply. “Searching for a lawbreaker.”
Drake saw no clear threat in these people, only fear and mistrust. He liked Mai’s basic, nondescript termination.
“No lawbreakers here,” the woman said instantly.
“We know,” Mai answered. “We came only to ask for help.”
“How ironic. On this day.”
Mai must have noted a shift in the woman’s eyes, for she glanced over at the seemingly bereaved family. It occurred to Drake that they should probably back away from this place and leave for good, but that same odd feeling he’d been having since they disembarked in Cusco — that sense that they were in the right place, doing something important despite the overall status of this mission being marked as low — sparked up inside once again.
They were meant to be here.
“I’m Drake.” He stepped out from behind Mai and offered a hand. “Matt Drake.”
Brynn shook, met his eyes, and then stared back at the family. “You come to us on a sad, sad day.”
He took several moments to study the terrain, the village boundaries, and saw nothing untoward. It was the soldier’s instinct, assuming these people were under some kind of threat, but it could just as well be a personal loss.
“I am sorry,” Mai said. “We did not mean to intrude.”
Drake was so thankful it was Mai and not Alicia that had stepped forward to talk. The Englishwoman’s first impulse was always: head-lock, her second: ask questions. But then, she’d been forged by danger; in one threatening situation or another as far back as she could remember.
“Thank you,” the woman said. “We should move away from here.”
They followed her through the village, being watched from doorways and windows and by groups sitting by the side of the road. A goat wandered by and Brynn paused to let it pass. Drake turned from a cold gust that chipped at his face as the sun vanished behind an ominous raft of dark clouds.
“Here.” Brynn had led them to a roughly circular patch of ground that appeared to be the center of the village. Older people sat around on wooden stools or with their backs against gray stone walls. Brynn took a seat halfway up a slope, shading her eyes as she looked to the mountains.
“You seek a man who lives there?”
“We do.”
“I am no elder,” she said, then stopped talking. “No leader. But destiny does have its way.”
Drake didn’t follow. Mai sat as the woman offered the space beside her. “Bad luck may portend good fortune,” she said. “But you have to find it within the darkness.”
“And you are good fortune?”
“I don’t know,” Mai admitted. “Not to all.”
Drake saw Smyth getting antsy, and guessed what the soldier was about to do. Impatient, he would stride in, boots and all, and achieve nothing. He rose, walked over and put a hand on Smyth’s chest.
“Give her time.”
“This is a waste of time.”
“No, mate. It’s where we are right now. And where we’re meant to be.”
Smyth made a bewildered noise. “Eh?”
“He’s saying we don’t walk away from people in need,” Alicia spoke up. “And maybe, for once, he’s right.”
“Thanks, love.” Drake turned back and smiled at Brynn. “We’re here,” he said. “And always happy to talk.”
Brynn smiled back. “Maybe you are good luck after all.”
Drake fought to keep the smile in place. Throughout the struggles of the last few years he could hardly describe the SPEAR team as a ‘good luck’ charm. A diplomatic man would say that bad shit and bad people happened everywhere.
A cynic would say it followed them around.
Matt Drake said they put themselves in the way of it, and tried to help good people out of bad situations.
“How can we help?”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Time passed and the day grew colder. Kinimaka broke out the supplies and handed food around. The villagers regarded them all with suspicion, though some of the braver ones — mostly the very young — approached with interest on sighting the snacks until their parents pulled them back. Drake sent smiles all around and wished he could at least part-communicate. The hand gestures he tried just didn’t work. The villagers kept their distance.
The woman whom they had seen and heard crying grew quiet after a while, and they saw nothing of her. The deep silence that covered Kimbiri drilled down to their souls, filling them with wonder. The sky was huge and empty save for clouds; the hills and mountains free of human interference and fiercely individual.
Brynn returned with a man and a woman in tow. The man was old and walked with a limp, the woman almost his age, still smiling at the people she passed despite clearly suppressing a hurt. With difficulty she faced Mai and Drake and offered them a smile.
“We are pleased to meet you.”
Mai looked between the man and woman. “We are soldiers and not blessed with manners. We are also looking for someone and short of time. If we can help you, please let us know.”
Drake saw what he assumed were the heads of the village, both nod in time. Brynn would already have passed on the previous conversation. It made no sense to backtrack.
“I am Emilio,” the man said, speaking through Brynn’s translation. “This is my wife, Clareta. We speak a little English, but it is easier to let Brynn speak for us now. You understand?”
Mai nodded. “Of course.”
“Until recently, we would not have spoken so openly to outsiders,” Brynn explained. “We are a village of the Andes and we happily keep our distance. Not because we have to. Do you understand that?”
“I do,” Mai said, and Drake agreed.
“But we have already broken our silence. We have already admitted we need help. That makes this easier and respectable and right. I know you understand. Two weeks ago we visited Cusco, and then again one week ago. Before that, twice more. I do not use the word desperate, but…” She looked away to the mountains as if seeking inspiration or courage.
Mai sat unmoving. “Why visit Cusco?”
“In the night they come. They snort and snuffle around our walls. They breathe noisily against our windows. They slaughter our livestock for fun and bathe in blood. They walk the dark streets of our village and mate and cry and cackle there…” Brynn held her breath for a moment, brimming with emotion. “And then they take one of us. Man or woman. They take one away and we never see them again.”
“They?” Mai asked first. “Who are they?”
Brynn’s face was ashen, her eyes terrified. “Monsters.”
Drake gave the area an involuntary double-check. “When you say monsters?”
Brynn shuddered. “I speak good English,” she said. “I know what I mean.”
Drake thought about asking for a description, but saw how fearful the woman was and decided to return to that particular subject later. “And you went to Cusco for help to tackle the problem?”
“Yes, of course! We swallowed our pride and our privacy and went to the city. It was after the second night that we reported it. They did not laugh at us; they did not suspect us. Instead, they did nothing at all. Four times we have journeyed there and four times they have ignored us. Now… last night they came again. What do we do?”
Brynn’s last comment was an outburst of despair. Recognizing that, almost immediately she cleared her throat and pulled her coat tighter, looking away.
“I am sorry,” she said.
“You have no reason to be,” Mai said.
Drake reined in the anger. “You reported each incident to the police and they did nothing?”