In one of the most inaccessible parts of the eastern Venezuelan jungle, clouds began to darken, and in another minute or two, they started to swirl and boil like in a devil’s cauldron, throwing down a torrent of warm rain.
Beneath the clouds, a gigantic tabletop mountain became cloaked in the dense fog, and brutal winds began to smash at its sides and surface. Thunder roared and lightning seemed to come from the sky, air, and even up from the ground itself.
The first of the bestial roars that began to ring out even drowned out the crash of thunder, and before long, the hissing, roars, and screams rose to be like those from the pits of Hell.
It had been ten years since the primordial sounds had been heard in this part of the Amazon, and even the creatures on the jungle floor over 1,000 feet below the plateau scurried away in fear.
It was the wettest season, and Primordia was returning.
CHAPTER 22
The balloon lifting off and soaring above the treetops gave Emma an odd feeling in her stomach. Not so much nausea, but more a sense of unreality as it felt more like she was on a fun park ride instead of a flight into a primordial hell.
Sure, now and then, there was the growling sound of the burners blowing hot air into the canopy, but for the most part, with no engines, there was only the odd creak of rope and squeal of the wicker basket under their feet.
Looking over the side when moving so slowly meant they had time to see and enjoy the jungle below them.
Juan reeled off dozens of photographs as Camilla pointed things out for him to capture. Andy and Helen leaned over together and grinned like school kids as they watched flocks of birds sail over the interwoven branches of the tree canopy. Occasional bands of monkeys stopped to stare up at them and scream, with a few trying to pelt either fruit or dung up at them.
“How’d you like a face full of my dung?” Andy yelled back at them, as Helen gave him the sort of look of distaste that only an older sister could conjure.
After a few hours, Emma stared down almost trance-like, as she tried to make out the winding brackish river they had navigated all those years ago. But she found it impossible to see through the green mesh of the massive trees. The treetops were so thick in this area that it actually looked like solid ground. But she knew it was an illusion as the real ground was another few hundred feet below it.
That permanent twilight world was a green ocean, and below the surface, things swung in branches, hung from tree trunks, and burrowed through leaf litter. There was another entire world hidden down there, and she was thankful they were floating above it, and not having to paddle or trek through it.
Another advantage was even though the balloon moved at around five miles per hour — jogging pace — it was faster than if they were crossing over the ground on foot or canoe. They also were able to travel as the crow flies, thus cutting out miles and miles of meandering river twists and bends.
Camilla came and leaned on the basket edge beside her. “It’s beautiful.”
Emma looked at her briefly and worked hard to resist the urge to tell her to piss off. After another moment, she nodded. “The jungle is a monster, but she hides her fangs well.”
“Most monsters do.” Camilla half-smiled, but her eyes held a quizzical expression. “You never told me how you feel coming back again?”
Emma turned to lean her back against the basket edge. “I’m conflicted — part elation, but scared shitless.”
Camilla snorted. “Sounds like my first marriage.” She continued to stare down at the canopy top. “If we do ever find Ben, I mean, when we do, do you think he’ll be happy to see you?” She tilted her head. “What do you think he’ll say to you?”
Emma’s teeth ground for a second or two as she started to get what the woman was after. It didn’t matter her motives now; they were well on their way. Over her shoulder, once again, her cameraman filmed them.
“I would think he’ll be overjoyed, relieved, disbelieving… ”
“Yes, maybe disbelieving.” Camilla’s smile fell away.
Emma’s brows drew together as she looked down at the smaller woman. “Why did you come? Really?”
Camilla brightened again. “Looking for clues, señorita. I am a journalist; it’s what I do.” She turned to lean her back against the basket railing as well. “My apologies if I seem… intrusive.”
“Intrusive?” Emma snorted. “Yeah, well, you do what you gotta do, and I’ll do the same.” She went to push off the basket railing but paused. “You don’t believe me, do you? About where we’re going and what we’ll experience.” Emma smiled grimly. “You’re in for a surprise, lady.” She went to stand by Drake.
She watched as Fergus worked the burners while Brocke manipulated the vents and flaps that could be opened and closed with a series of cords. This allowed him to inflate or deflate the canopy, or just expel air from one side or the other that would cause the balloon to be gently pushed in the direction they wanted.
The modern balloons also had something akin to a trap door in the top that allowed for rapid drop if needed. In the past, balloons would land, and in strong winds wouldn’t stick the landing, instead getting tipped and dragged. The vent-trap meant they could release a large volume of the hot air quickly and either drop themselves fast and stick, or totally deflate the bag.
Drake turned. “Looking good.”
“Yep,” Emma said. “Took us more than a day to traverse this first part.”
“We just did it in under three hours,” he replied, and then pointed. “I think we’re headed in the right direction.”
In the distance, there was a line of clouds, low and so dark they looked purple. They could just make out the flashes of light within them as lightning was being discharged. It reminded her of those science pictures of electrical impulses within a human brain. Just the sight of it gave her a tingling in her stomach. This is where the shit gets real, she thought.
“Looks like thunderheads,” he said.
“Only looks like it. But it’s something else entirely,” she mumbled in return.
They scudded onwards, moving with the zephyrs and at the time, only a few hundred feet above the treetops.
Emma looked upward and past the enormous, bulging sack of air above her. Where they were at that moment, it was a cloudless, azure blue and seemed empty. But invisible to them within that atmosphere, it was like an ocean with different currents, rivers of air movement, and eddies that swirled in place, dropped or shot upward, and all depending on your height.
There were highways, laneways, and hidden alleys, and if they failed to gain enough traction and forward movement in one lane’s river of moving air, they could simply rise or drop until they found another more suitable stream.
For now, they were headed in the right direction, and with the warm sunlight, calm air, and without even the noises of the jungle below, it was a luxury they needed to soak in, and also gather strength for the ordeal she knew was coming.
Emma looked at each of her team members, and suddenly felt a pang of, what, guilt?
The soldiers looked formidable enough and she was glad they were here. But she had coerced Andy and Helen into coming. She needed them, and though she had told them what to expect, she had never really tried hard to impart the full horrors and dangers involved.
Maybe I’m the monster now, she thought, and let her eyes move to Camilla and Juan. They had bullied themselves into coming, so she felt less concerned about them. In fact, given the direction Camilla was taking with her questions right now, she couldn’t give a shit about the woman.