Hunter's Mission (EBOOK)

Chapter 1
Layla

When I’d finally received my funding to take my botany research work to the Amazon jungle, I’d expected torrential rain, extreme heat, and stifling humidity. What I hadn’t anticipated was having a creep for a boss. Neville Parker thought he was God’s gift to women.
He fucking wasn’t. Fifty-five-year-old Neville was good-looking; I would give him that. But it was difficult to see how handsome he was when the bastard was always making crass remarks and trying to peer down my top.
But while it was great that he wasn’t here ogling me, it was also annoying. We should be working together as a team. But I use the word team loosely. For months now, Cody, my lab assistant, and I had been doing all the work while Neville had been doing . . . I have no idea what he actually did while we traipsed through the jungle all day. Then again, he still had two more years left on his research tenure, so he could afford to be lazy. I couldn’t.
I stepped over the moss-covered log, and my rubber boot squelched into ankle-deep mud on the other side. “It’s really muddy this way. Be careful.” I turned to Cody. He was a brilliant scientist and had amazing language skills, but traipsing through the jungle was not one of his superpowers.
“I’m good.” Reaching for a vine that crossed over the log, his long legs straddled the dead tree that, based on the dense moss covering the trunk, must have fallen over decades ago. Or maybe even hundreds of years ago.
A pungent stench overpowered the usual jungle aromas of mud and leaves, and my empty stomach churned. “Ugh, what’s that smell?” I covered my nose with my sleeve.
“Must be a dead animal around here somewhere.” Cody’s voice was muffled behind his hand.
As I peered into the gnarly underbrush, searching for a rotting carcass, the lush jungle enveloped me. The air amongst the overgrown vegetation was always thick like it was dense with the abundance of natural aromas. On my first trek into the jungle, I’d struggled to breathe. Over the last eleven months, I’d become used to the thick air. I’d even grown to love it. It was going to be damn hard to return to my hometown of Yellowstone, Wyoming. Hopefully, that won’t be for a few more years.
Time was ticking, though. Unless I could stabilize my formula for my burns ointment, the plug was going to be pulled on my funding, and our entire research project would be boxed up and likely never seen again. But despite trying damn hard, I still needed conclusive proof of a viable product, and I only had seven months left to prove my natural ointment worked.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
Everywhere I looked was green: plants, giant leaves, enormous trees, and strangler figs and vines that tied it all together in a living macramé. I often had to pinch myself to confirm I really was in the Amazon jungle. But as much as it was amazing, it was also terrifying. Without my compass, getting lost was a certainty. There were no buildings, roads, or paths, and the direction we’d chosen to scout today didn’t seem to have animal tracks.
Today’s rain had cleared a couple of hours ago, but it would take weeks of sunshine to dry up the thick mud and puddles covering the forest floor. Or maybe it never dried up in this area of the forest. It wouldn’t surprise me; it rained a lot in the Amazon.
I wiped the sweat from my brow and sliced my machete through the underbrush. A thorny vine grabbed the sleeve of my shirt like desperate fingers warning me not to go any farther.
“That smell is getting worse.” Cody made a gagging noise.
“I know. I don’t think I’ve smelled death out here before.” I paused next to a tree with a trunk as wide as the car I’d sold before I left home, the stench lingering in the stifling air.
The odor didn’t worry me; death was natural. What worried me was what had killed the animal. The Amazon has its share of lethal creatures, six of which could fit in the palm of my hand. But it was the jaguar that I feared the most. I hadn’t seen one in the flesh yet, but I’d heard one, and that was terrifying enough.
“Keep your eyes open, Cody.” I tried to peer through the field of green, but it was impossible. “There's no telling what might be out here.”
“You got your gun handy?” he asked.
I tapped my thigh holster strapped over my cargo pants. “Sure do.”
I hadn’t had to shoot an animal yet; I hoped I wouldn’t have to shoot one today.
Cody didn’t have a gun. I’d seen his target practice and it was safer for both of us that he wasn’t armed.
I checked my watch. Damn it. We’d been out here for three hours already, and we hadn’t seen, let alone harvested, any Inocea berries. Each time we went in search of my precious ingredient, which was only known to grow in this region of the Amazon, we had to venture farther away from the river and deeper into the jungle. Trekking this bush was both time-consuming and frustrating, especially considering the berries seemed so abundant when I’d first set up my jungle laboratory.
Wild screeches filled the air, giving me a slight reprieve from the suffocating silence surrounding us. Up to my ankles in mud, I paused, searching for movement amidst the towering trees.
“There they are.” Cody pointed to the canopy behind us, where a group of monkeys scampered from branch to branch.
Their ear-splitting chorus dominated everything, and it would be easy to believe those monkeys were the kings of the jungle. They weren’t; that moniker was reserved for the jaguar.
“I could watch them every day.” Cody grinned so wide he had to adjust his glasses off his cheeks.
“Amazing, aren't they?” I watched their acrobatics with a hint of envy. It would be amazing to be so free. Free of responsibilities. Free of guilt.
“Sure are. When I die, I’m coming back as a spider monkey,” he yelled over their ruckus.
I laughed. “So you believe in reincarnation, huh? I didn’t know that about you.”
“Sure. Haven’t you seen The Lion King? You know, circle of life and all that.” He puffed out his chest like he’d bestowed some divine logic upon me.
I didn’t have the heart to tell him that the circle of life meant that one creature’s death gave new life to another.
“What would you come back as?” Cody wiped the sweat from his brow with his sleeve cuff.
Anything that couldn’t injure a sibling. Avoiding the pointless conversation, I said, “Come on, let’s do twenty more minutes before we turn around. This area is fruitless.”
“I see what you did there . . . boom, boom.” Chuckling, he patted my shoulder. “Hey, it’s okay, we’ll find more berries. We have to. They were everywhere when we first arrived.”
“I know.” I hooked my thumbs into the shoulder straps of my pack and forged ahead.
With each step, the sounds of the monkeys were absorbed by the eerie whispers of vegetation. The stillness was as if every living organism around us was holding its breath, waiting for our demise.
As I hacked at a pair of vines that had twisted into knots as they stretched the distance between two enormous trees, I couldn’t halt my swirling thoughts over the consequences of our presence in this fragile ecosystem.
Will the native tribes suffer because of our intrusion?
Am I disrupting the balance of nature in my pursuit of a medical miracle?
Is my quest a complete waste of time and money?
Questions without answers reminded me of the weight of my responsibility. So many people relied on my project being a success, including Cody and Neville. Neville had been here much longer than me, and I’d been lucky that he was willing to share the plant research he’d done before I’d arrived, or I wouldn’t be as far along as I was.
In the jungle, there was no such thing as sunrise or sunset. Sunlight rarely penetrated the dense canopy and the forest floor lived in almost eternal dimness. Occasionally, a spear of sunlight would beam down from the sky like a finger of God, and tiny particles would dance in the glow like they were having a party.
There were no spears of light at the moment. No dancing particles. No breezes carrying luscious scents of virgin rainforest. Instead, we were surrounded by an extreme stillness, and with every pace the rotten stench increased in intensity.
“Maybe we should head back. It’s getting late.” My shoulders slumped. Another day wasted.
“Let’s just go a bit farther.” He rested his hand on my arm and shoved around me to take the lead. “I have a feeling we’re close.”
Cody’s determination mirrored my own. Except while my drive was to improve the suffering of burn victims, Cody wanted to demonstrate that his chosen career path was worth the money invested by his parents in his education. He felt he had to pay back more than just their financial contribution; he wanted them to be proud of him. He’d never said as much, but every time he spoke to them on our satellite phone, I heard the longing in his tone.
The scent of decay still clung to the air, and I tried to ignore both the foul odor and my stupid thoughts that something could be stalking us. In the jungle, something was always watching. It was just potluck whether or not that spectator was friendly.
I had to focus on my mission and find those berries. Burns victims needed my ointment.
Pushing away my doubts and fears, I trudged after Cody. He seemed to make easy work of the mud that stuck to our boots like epoxy.
At five-foot-five, I wasn’t short, and I wasn’t tall, but I had long legs and a short torso.
When I’m older, my boobs will probably sag so much they’ll flank my belly button.
Now that’s an image I didn’t need.
Not that I had to worry. Nobody had seen me naked in years, and nobody was lining up to see me naked now. Except Neville. I would rather pull my pubes out one by one than undress in front of that creep.
My stomach rumbled, and Cody flicked his gaze at me over his shoulder. “Jeez, Layla, that was loud enough to attract the black caimans.”
I laughed. “I know. I’m starving. What are the chances that Neville has dinner on the go?”
“Zero to zilch.”
“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” Neville should be helping us search for the berries instead of pretending he had a stomachache. If anyone could win a Pulitzer for journalling a plethora of excuses, it would be Neville fucking Parker.
“There! I see some.” Cody pointed at a cluster of Inocea berries to our right. Their deep red hue stood out against the large verdant leaves of the Inocea bush.
“Thank you, Amazon gods.” I swept my gaze skyward just in time to witness a toucan with a bright orange beak land on a branch above us. I reached for my camera. Damn, I didn’t bring it. Then again, I probably already had two hundred photos of toucans from just the first three months of my posting down here.
Aiming for our prize, Cody climbed over the gnarly bushes like a stalk. I barged through them like a bulldozer.
Cody had sliced off a bunch of berries by the time I reached him. The berries grew like grapes in compact bunches, and seemed to flourish at a height that was just beyond my reach. Lucky for me, Cody was both tall and a willing participant in my research.
“Finally,” I said as I stepped beside him. I peeled my pack off my back and removed the sturdy plastic storage bag inside. Cody fed the berries into the bag like they were precious little babies.
As he reached for more berries, a tiny sound penetrated the jungle. I cocked my head, straining to hear what it was.
There . . . is that whimpering?
“Cody,” I whispered. “Do you hear that? Sounds like someone crying.”
Pausing with a bunch of berries in his hands, he blinked at me through glasses that had slipped down his nose. His mouth fell open, and he nodded.
Shit!
We scanned the area, then turned back to each other shaking our heads.
The jungle natives were the only humans for thousands of miles around, yet the mournful sobbing sounded like a woman. Maybe it was an animal or insect that I’d never heard before. That would make sense. In this rainforest, there were over one thousand different species of frog alone.
Cody and I exchanged a look of confusion.
I leaned into his ear and whispered, “Sounds like a woman crying.”
“That’s what I thought.” He nodded.
“We need to find out and see if she’s okay.”
“Of course.” He quickly cut away the last of the berries and secured them in my bag.
I swung the pack onto my back and connected the clips around my waist. Stepping over gnarled roots and dodging low-hanging vines, I led Cody toward the sound.
As the weeping grew louder, my mind raced with confusion and worry. The tribal women were very private. Using Cody’s interpretation skills, I had tried to communicate with them a few times. I was fascinated by how they survived out here in the middle of this primitive jungle and in particular, I was keen to learn what natural medicines they used. Some of the women willingly shared their way of life and seemed equally curious about me.
But the men made it known that they did not approve of my meddling or my interruption in the women’s chores. Out here, the women had to breed, raise children, and do extremely onerous work, yet they didn’t complain. They did what generations of women since the dawn of time had done. They didn’t know any other way of life, and I had no intention of trying to change that.
Maybe oblivion is a blissful avenue to happiness.
I shoved through a bush with soft, wet leaves and stumbled upon Yamania, a tribal woman I had spoken to a few times, kneeling next to the lifeless body of a native man.
Yamania’s face was etched with pain and anger, and her left eye was swollen and bruised.
“Yamania,” I spoke softly, careful not to startle her.
Her gaze snapped to me, and her eyes narrowed, heavy with suspicion. The native man's body lay contorted on the ground. Vomit speckled his chin and the dead leaves on the ground in front of him.
Yamania had tribal tattoos on her cheeks and chin. Green feathers were threaded through her ears and a thin stick was pierced through her nose. She wore nothing but a leather cloth around her waist and a necklace made of animal teeth.
“Só quar!” she shouted, her voice hoarse and angry.
“What did she say?” I asked Cody.
“Stay away.”
“Please, Yamania.” I stepped over a small bush toward her. “Tell her we just want to help.”
Cody translated, walking forward a few paces. His fluency in the native language was impressive and his hand movements proved he was trying to calm her down.
She hissed at us and shuffled closer to the body. My breath caught. The man on the ground was Na-lynied, one of the tribal king’s eight sons.
“Shit, Cody. That’s Na-lynied,” I said, aware that Yamania wouldn’t understand what I said.
“Yes, I noticed.” His fearful gaze swept toward me.
This isn’t good.
“Is he alive?” I studied Na-lynied’s chest until finally, he took a shallow breath. “Oh, thank God, he is. Ask Yamania what happened.”
“Não é bem-vindo aqui,” Cody asked.
“Saia! Saia!” Yamania screeched.
“She’s demanding we leave them alone.”
My breath hitched as I noticed a massive bunch of Inocea berries behind Na-lynied’s legs. “Cody, look behind his back. What are they doing with all those berries?”
“Looks like he was picking them,” Cody said.
“But why so much?” Frowning, I shook my head. It didn’t make sense. Tribal people only picked and hunted what they could eat within two days. They didn’t have refrigeration or sealed containers to keep food fresh. However, the quantity of berries Na-lynied had gathered was excessive.
I’d learned about the Inocea berry through the tribal women who told me they used the berries to heal wounds. They didn’t eat the berry as it was bitter and full of unpalatable seeds.
For months and months, I’d had failed trials and tests. But two days ago, I recalled a comment that Arninadaal, Yamania’s mother, had made several months ago: The berry dies quickly.
I had seen proof of how quickly the berry shriveled up. What I hadn’t considered was if the medicinal properties in the berry rapidly diminished or even changed somehow once they were picked. It was a theory I was keen to test. Finding the berries and getting them back to the lab in time was the hard part.
“We need those berries, Cody.”
He bulged his eyes at me. “We can’t just grab them.”
“Ask Yamania if we can take them.”
Cody pushed his glasses up his nose as he translated my question.
“Vá embora! Você não é bem-vindo aqui!” Yamania's eyes flared as she screamed at us, her voice raw and enraged.
“Come on, Layla.” Cody clutched my arm, pulling me away. “We need to go.”
“What’s she saying?”
“She says we have done enough.”
“Done enough? What does that mean?”
Yamania shuffled behind Na-lynied’s body, picked up something, and pegged it at us. A rectangular bottle landed in the mud at my feet.
“Son of a bitch.” I picked up the tequila bottle.
“What the hell?” Cody’s face contorted with confusion.
“Fucking Neville! I’m going to kill him.” I undid my pack and slid the bottle inside next to the berries. “He must have bribed Na-lynied with alcohol in exchange for him hunting for the berries. No wonder we didn’t find any in this area.”
“Tell Yamania we didn’t know. Tell her how angry I am at Neville.” I spat my words, unable to contain my fury.
Cody desperately tried to convey my apology to Yamania.
She lunged sideways and picked up a stick. But it wasn’t a stick; it was a spear. At the end of the spear was a dead monkey.
“Oh, Jesus.” Cody covered his mouth with his hand, trying to mask the stench from the rotting animal.
Yamania yanked the spear from the monkey’s carcass and jumped over Na-lynied’s body.
“Saia! Saia!” She lunged at us.

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