Burial Ground

IV

11:56 a.m.

"What do you see?" Dahlia whispered. Her breath on the fine hairs of his ear gave him goosebumps.

"Nothing yet." Jay zoomed the camera down the path and into the small light gap beyond. It reminded him of the last one, only he couldn't see the fallen tree that had created it. There were other subtle differences. There were no clusters of saplings, and the wild grasses and ferns were much shorter, almost as though they'd been trimmed.

Still, none of the others had emerged from hiding. He could see their backs and occasional profiles through the foliage. Most of them appeared to be every bit as confused as he was.

And then he saw it. A large, dark shape lumbered into view. Its head swiveled nervously on top of a long, slender neck that stood perfectly erect from its impossibly wooly body. Four spindle-thin legs hardly appeared capable of bearing its weight.

"You've got to be kidding me," Jay said. Shaking his head, he rose from behind the flowering orchid bush and lowered the camera. "It's just one of those freaking llama-looking things."

Colton leaned out across the path and waved for him to get back down.

Forget that. The bush was crawling with brown ants with pincers so big they could hardly lift their heads. He wasn't about to willingly climb back in there and provide them with lunch at his expense. No way. If none of the others were brave enough to approach this terrifying alpaca, then he was just going to have to---

"Get down!" Dahlia whispered. She jerked on his pant leg. It was only then that he noticed the black form standing perfectly still past the animal.

"Aw, crap."

He dropped and scooted into the ant-covered leaves. Before he was even situated, he had the camera up and rolling. He zoomed past the fuzzy gray and black creature and onto the shadowed apparition. The camera focused on a man at the edge of the forest, just shy of the point where the sunlight forced back the shade. He was painted black from head to toe. No wonder Jay hadn't initially seen him. Of course, if he could see the man, then surely he had already seen them as well. If that was the case, then why was he still just standing there?

The man hovered at the fringe of the jungle for several long minutes while they all waited silently. Why didn't they just keep going? Jay wondered. They outnumbered and outgunned the man. Surely they were just being overly cautious, but still, it was always possible that the native was friendly and posed no threat. What in the world were they waiting for?

Finally, the painted man stepped out into the sunlight and approached the alpaca. He grabbed the braided rope hanging from the animal's neck, gave a sharp tug, and guided it toward the wall of foliage.

Raindrops pattered on the leaves above him as a gentle rain began to fall.

The man paused and looked up into the sky. He acknowledged the sudden onset of rain with a nod, and then continued into the dark forest. A moment later, he was gone.

"Did you get that?" Dahlia whispered.

"You mean that guy standing there doing nothing? Oh yeah, I got it. Fat lot of good it will do us though."

Slowly, Rippeth rose in the lead and eased out into the clearing. He scoured the light gap down the sight of his pistol, then finally gave a wave to indicate they were safe to leave their hiding spots.

Leo and Colton hesitantly eased to their feet ahead. Jay did the same. He still didn't understand the need for such overt prudence, but he followed the others at a snail's pace out into the open.

"He brought the alpaca down here to graze," Sam said.

Jay looked down. His initial assessment had been mostly correct. The weeds hadn't been trimmed, but grazed down to nubs in sections.

"Why did we all have to hide?" he asked. "I mean, there was only one of him and there are ten of us. What could he possibly have done?"

"We could easily have frightened him," Colton said impatiently. "Then the next thing you know, we have natives crawling all over us. They know we're here. When they're ready, they'll either come to us on their own terms, or just continue to hide and follow us from a distance until we've passed out of their territory."

Jay nodded. It made sense, but it didn't exactly make for a good documentary. He wasn't rooting for an attack by a tribe of bow-and-arrow-wielding savages by any means, but they needed some element of drama and danger to make the film really sing.

While the others discussed how long they should wait before continuing along the path to keep from spooking the lone man with the alpaca, Jay raised the camera and wandered the perimeter of the light gap, hoping to encounter something remotely interesting. There were stumps where trees had been cleared, and about a million hoof prints in the damp earth, but it was otherwise unremarkable.

Raindrops tapped his shoulders and drained in cool lines through his hair, down his neck, and along his spine. It felt wonderful after so many hours of being sticky with sweat from the humidity. As long as this didn't turn into another tropical deluge, he'd be happy if the storm never stopped.

He panned along the edge of the jungle one final time, and was just about to stop recording when something caught his eye. At first, he thought it was another one of those strange butterflies, but it appeared to hover in the shadows at the base of a tree trunk without flapping its wings. He zoomed in and stumbled backward in surprise. Another painted man crouched in the darkness, unmoving, watching Jay even as he filmed him. A sharp-toothed grin slashed the man's face, and then he vanished.

"Hey," Jay called without turning. "There's another one out there."

He panned the camera from left to right, but there was no sign of the native.

The forest had fallen quiet, save the soft sound of rain dripping from the higher reaches onto the groundcover.

"Are you sure?" Colton asked.

"Of course I'm sure. I have him on film. He was right over there." Jay pointed vaguely off to his right, and turned to face the direction from which they had come. A blur of black streaked between two trees. "There's another."

The rest of the group closed in around him, their conversation forgotten.

There was more movement off to his left. He whirled in time to see another shadow vanish into the brush.

"They're all around us," Jay said.

"Stay calm," Colton whispered. He placed a steadying hand on Jay's shoulder. "Everyone form a tight line. We're too exposed here. We need to get out of the open."

Rippeth resumed the point, flanked by Colton. Morton brought up the rear, walking backward, while Sorenson and Webber slipped into the middle of the group with the poles that supported the crate on their shoulders, ready to drop it and go for their weapons at a moment's notice. Together they advanced into the unnatural twilight beneath the trees. No one spoke. The tension mounted.

Jay kept the camera to his eye, but moved it to either side of the path too fast for the aperture to reconcile. He saw motion in every shadow, and felt the weight of unseen eyes.

Why didn't they just attack?

And then it hit him.

They were being herded, driven like cattle, but toward what?