Doctor Who_ Combat Rock - Mick Lewis [79]
Something glinted from amongst the dirty white bones, and in spite of his revulsion, he stepped forward to examine the gruesome tree shrine more closely. The spinal column dangled loosely against the bark, and the glint came from an object twined around the vertebrae. A rosary.
‘Preacher men always disappear in jungle,’ Santi said with a small voice.
‘Well now you know what happens to them.’
‘Hey, you shut up your mouth! Santi not like. Bad spirits here.’
‘I thought you Indoni were above all that superstitious nonsense, remember?’ But he could see she was obviously frightened, and patted her comfortingly on the arm.’
‘ Cannibal.’ She pronounced the last syllable to rhyme with ‘pal’, just like seemingly everyone else in this damn jungle, thought Jamie, a little unnerved nevertheless.
‘We must leave here. This place no good!’
‘I know: hatty hatty.’
Santi was already marching across the glade, heading for a gap in the trees across from where they’d entered. She was just about to push aside a large leaf bending outwards like a huge green tongue when a hand beat her to it. A brown hand, belonging to a brown man who appeared from behind the leaf.
He had short tight curls, a flat nose, and staring, staring eyes.
He wore nothing apart from leaves gummed around his penis.
In his right hand he clutched a gnarled bone knife; in the other, a bow. On his back he carried a sheaf of long makeshift arrows.
Jamie snatched Santi’s hand and pulled her hurriedly in the opposite direction. Three more warriors emerged from the bushes to bar their way. One of them placed an arrow to his bow, the animal gut string pulled back behind his ear. The tip was pointing right at Jamie’s heart.
Chapter Twelve
The river was a wash of gold in the late afternoon light, and Wemus was in love.
He could barely take his eyes off Wina, and his rowing was suffering as a result. She smiled coyly back at him every time he grinned at her, and more than once he reached out to touch her hand fleetingly. He must be more handsome than he had thought, he congratulated himself warmly. He’d always known he was witty and charming, adventurous and bold; but he was obviously a sexual magnet too.
‘You’re a buffoon, Wemus.’
Kepennis was shaking his head at his friend in disgust.
‘Hey, you should be happy for me!’
‘That whor–’ he stopped himself with admirable self-control, ‘That woman will see you dead.’
Wemus ignored him and, resting his oar, reached for Wina instead. She welcomed his embrace, her eyes flashing. They kissed, and Wemus was on fire. His lips felt alive and throbbing as he briefly moved his mouth away and then went back for more.
Thunk!
Wemus collapsed against the side of the canoe, his head an explosion of pain. One of the guerrillas had finally had enough of his amorous interludes and was now making a point of reminding them they were hostages and not on a love cruise.
‘Row!’
Wina leant forward to rub Wemus’s head for him, only to be pried away by the same oar that had interrupted their passion. A snickering came from behind. Drew was guffawing openly, leaning over his oar to enjoy the show.
Wina stood up in the canoe, rocking it dangerously. She trembled with rage as she pointed a finger at the white man.
‘Hey, screw you man! You not even man. You rat worm rubbish! You make my friend killed. I kill you now!’ She looked as though she would do it too.
‘Enough!’ The voice came from aft of the canoe. Tigus was stepping over the sacks of provisions towards them, a rifle pointed at Wina.
‘Yeah, that’s right,’ added Drew. ‘Sit down, shut up. And you sound more and more like your buddy Santi all the time.
What happened to your etiquette, bitch?’
Tigus moved the barrel of his rifle so it nestled behind Drew’s ear. He shut up and resumed rowing. Wemus pulled at Wina’s hand and she grudgingly sat down again.
‘Tigus!’ It was the Doctor, calling from the rear