“What do you think?” Her words came loaded with attitude.
I loved this kid. I pulled a wad from my pocket, pressed it into her palm. “Take us to the trail, then get home without being seen. If you get stopped, you tell them you took us to the clinic and left us there. You got me?”
“I got you.”
We slunk across the dark road, entered the jungle on the far side, picked our way through some brambles to a well-worn trail.
“That’s it, Evie. On your way.”
Maggie told her to wait. She pulled her earrings out of her lobes. “Take these.”
“I told you somebody will just steal them.”
“Hide them someplace.”
Evie took them and ran.
We followed the trail for a kilometer or two, my heart leaping at every snapped twig. Finally, the jungle opened into a tamed expanse dotted with tin-roofed mud-brick homes. The area was illuminated by gas lamps that emitted piercing white light. “Where do you think the pier is from here?”
Deluski pointed at a church on the far side. “Should be near that church.”
I agreed. “How you want to do this?”
“We walk straight through,” said Maggie. “Act like we know where we’re going. There’s no guarantee that the patrol was looking for us. If we run, we’re asking for trouble.”
“Objections?”
Deluski shook his head no. We tucked our weapons away and walked into the village. As we passed homes, off-duty farmhands stared our way, and the sour smell of shine rode on the breeze. Wood fires pumped smoke through the gaps between walls and rooftops. People ate from bowls with their fingers, geckos dancing in the dirt, scurrying across tables.
We passed an open-faced two-story home on the right, the bottom level reserved for dry wood and a roped cow, the top floor a small deck for sleeping under the overhang. A young girl shoved branches into a clay wood stove. Flames licked at a steaming pot, and her soot-coated face gave us a once-over.
We strode forward, each step taking us closer to the pier and the river. A shirtless old man shooed us along, crazy eyes under wispy hair, ribs standing out like roots from a toppled tree. He hissed and nabbed a machete, brandishing it wildly before a family member scolded him and took the tool out of his hand.
I spotted a woman standing behind a post, a phone to her ear, her eyes tracking us step for step. Her lips moved, speaking unheard words into the receiver. I looked all around, found two others, phones to their ears.
Racing to rat us out to Panama.
I accelerated into a jog, my hand moving to my piece. Maggie and Deluski matched pace, the church still in the distance, its cross fashioned from scrapped street signs. Maggie had her phone out, holding it to her mouth, yelling into the speaker, “Josephs!”
A soldier appeared in front of the church. Then a second. I tried to stop, skidded, and slipped to the ground, my body sliding through the mud. Now there were three, four, a whole squad pouring into the church courtyard.
I scrambled to my feet and ran after Maggie and Deluski, who had already turned for the jungle to our right. I was in full sprint now, darting between houses, hurtling through family dinners, startling children and scattering chickens.
My right shoe slipped out from under me. I went down a second time, an uncontrolled slide taking me into a set of chairs. I was back up, untangling my legs, tossing chairs, as the rumble of clomping feet approached from behind.
I was running again, speeding for the jungle, knowing the river had to lie somewhere behind it. Deluski was the first to disappear into the green, Maggie a couple seconds later. I pushed my lungs to their limit and leapt into the darkness, branches and leaves, vines and brambles. A hand grabbed my shirt, Maggie’s voice, “C’mon.”
I followed as close as I could, my eyes straining to keep up with the jouncing beam of Maggie’s flashlight. She yelled into her phone, “Track my signal! We’re heading for the river!”
The crackle of lase-fire ripped overhead, burned leaves raining from exploding clouds of foliage. The undisciplined shits were taking potshots. If they were going to catch us, they’d have to follow us in. Whether they did would depend on how bad they wanted us.
The shooting stopped. I listened for following voices but heard only our own heavy footfalls and the rustle of leaves as we crashed through. These were the general’s soldiers, not Panama’s cops. I gave myself permission to hope they’d dropped their pursuit. Maybe the bounty Panama offered wasn’t so big.
Another burst of lase-fire quashed that hope. We raced through the snagging, slapping, scraping jungle. Lase-fire tore through the trees to our right. The soldiers were veering off course. Maggie and I responded by angling left, widening the gap. I could hear the sputter of an outboard motor ahead. The river was close. Please be Josephs.
We scrambled up a steep embankment, kicking and clawing through muddy earth and deep piles of damp leaves. The air turned fetid with overturned compost. I coughed and choked on mold spores, my feet churning at the slick slope.
Maggie crested first, me a step behind. We raced down the embankment. Josephs’s voice called to us, the boat a short distance out, floodlight aimed our way. We dove into the water and paddled toward the floodlight. Josephs and the boat captain pulled Deluski on board.
The boat putted up. Maggie grabbed hold of the rail. “Turn off the light and the motor!”
The motor went silent. The light went dark. I held on to the rail and waited for Maggie to get pulled up. “Sssh. Nobody talks.”
I heard voices upriver, the voices of boys. I could see them scanning the water with their flashlights, thirty meters upriver, maybe less. A real army would’ve spread out, cast a wide net as they moved through the jungle instead of going in follow-the-leader formation. Those kids weren’t real soldiers. They had no training. No fucking clue.
I held up my arms, letting hands grab hold. They lifted me slowly, my torso rising out of the river. I winced at the water running off me, knowing every drop could be the one that they heard. Lucky for us, the punks didn’t have the good sense to shut up and listen. Instead they argued and took random shots at the river.
My feet slipped from the water. They set me down on the deck. I didn’t dare move. I just breathed, told my heart to quit pounding. Minutes passed, and the river took us away in its silent flow.
We putted under one of Koba’s many bridges, city lights all around. The journey was almost over. Maggie and I sat next to each other, scratching at skin savaged by bug bites.
Deluski kept fiddling with the boat captain’s phone, said he was looking up some things. Josephs stared at the stars, his gaze quiet and peaceful, not shellshocked like the rest of ours. He hadn’t seen what we’d seen. A goddamned freak show. The kind of shit nightmares were made of.
The captain turned the boat into a canal. A nightclub floated to the right, the crowd overflowing onto a pontoon dock, suits and dresses, cocktails and party voices.
“He has to be stopped.” She was repeating herself. Saying it over and over and over.
“I know.” The same empty response.
“KOP has no jurisdiction.”
“I know.”
“I can go to the governor. See if I can convince him to send the army in to raid that compound.”
“You can try.” But you know you’ll fail.
“If he refuses, I’ll go to the press and amp up the pressure.”
Which you know will simply spook the doctor into relocating. I waited for her to come to the same conclusion.
She shook her head. “There has to be a way to stop him.” Back to square one.
She knew the riddle had no legal solution. The doctor operated in General Z’s territory, meaning the clinic might as well be a million miles away, for all the authorities could do about it. Shit, the General regularly slaughtered entire villages and took the children as his soldiers. Gang rapes were a way of life up there. If the pols hadn’t found the will to do anything by now, they sure as hell weren’t going to start a full-scale invasion just because of a rogue doctor.