GOLD RIVER (Book 1)

Chapter 11

Tom and Kate trudged through the Amazon Rainforest, high stepping over the undergrowth, pushing through curtains of dense vegetation, untouched by man, until now. Along the way, Tom couldn't help but think what it might have been like if Kate had never left him. She said it was because he couldn't get the gold out of his veins. He said it was because she didn't like Texas. One thing became clear the moment she walked out and hopped across the pond back to Oxford, he was done with her. If she wanted to live in England and return to her old life, then all he could say was good riddance.

He had to admit, her soft brown eyes were like quicksand. He always had a hard time looking away once he got lost in her gaze. That's why he took the lead, to keep her behind him in the past.

They made good time, weaving through the jungle, ducking under vines, and slipping through tight spots in the tangled assortment of plant life.

"A machete would've been a handy addition to my repertoire," Tom said as he pushed aside the mix of dark and light greenery in front of him. The colors were so vivid, it looked like someone dumped plane loads of fertilizer all over the place.

Kate grunted. "There's nothing more comical than a Texan speaking French."

"All I'm saying is, it would've been useful."

"Maybe after I pulled it from your abdomen. Seriously, Tom, do you think you would've fared well on your plunge through the treetops?"

"So," Tom said, wanting to change the subject, "how are we going to deal with the scientists who discovered the ruin? I don't think they'll take too kindly to us traipsing through their tulips."

Kate chuckled. Then her tone turned somber. "They're organizing an expedition to explore the ruins thoroughly. We have a few days before they return. We have to get in and get out before then."

"Let's put our cards on the table. Why are you really working for them and what's the story behind this gold?"

"You don't have any cards."

"Sure I do," Tom said. "I know you wouldn't be here for the payout alone. They've got something on you, and you'll tell me what it is, eventually."

Tom ripped a leaf as big as his face out of his line of sight and tossed the vein-laced foliage to the ground. By now, the steamy air had soaked his shirt with sweat, but he pushed through, leading the way, hiking through a few more crisscrossed vines and low-lying ferns, until finally, they broke into a clearing.

He bit his lip again, this time a little harder, drawing a metallic taste in his mouth.

A slow-moving river blocked their path. "They give you a map?"

"No, only a compass and a bearing of northeast."

Tom started brainstorming. The water was an obstacle in many ways. It was about two or three Texas creeks wide, or roughly eighty feet across. They could swim it, but he wouldn't advise it, and something else nagged at him. He searched the banks and the muddy water for pairs of beady eyes. At the moment, it looked safe, but death could happen fast and unexpected in the Amazon.

"They didn't mention a river," Kate said, while checking the time on a pocket watch.

"They never do." Tom turned his attention to the jungle, in particular, any broken tree limbs large enough to tie together. "You mind helping me out?"

"What's your plan?"

He reached down—using mostly his good arm—and lifted a branch off the ground as big around as his thigh. "We need four more of these." He held up the piece of wood that was lighter than it would've been on a tree. It was dried out and lifeless, but not decayed.

"For what purpose?"

"I have an idea that might work."

After scrounging around for a few minutes, they found the necessary branches. Five logs six feet long, plus or minus a few inches. Should work.

Tom dreaded the next part of his plan. With a lingering sentiment gnawing at the back of his mind, he took his leather jacket and laid it on the jungle floor. Next, he dropped to his knees and took the pocketknife and started cutting strips as wide as his hand.

Kate groaned. "That was your favorite coat."

"Don't remind me."

With all the material available, he was able to get enough to create three makeshift ropes, tying the strips end to end.

Kate's face twisted into a grimace. "If you think I'm getting on your hastily constructed raft, you've gone bonkers."

Tom looked up at her, almost beside himself. "Yes, you will."

"Why should I?"

"Because I cut up my jacket for you. And because you need to get across that river."

She grew quiet. The why seemed to motivate her again. She opened her mouth to speak, but only stared at Tom for a long moment. "Okay," she finally said, "we'll do it."

Tom shook his head while tugging the raft toward the bank. Geez. Kate could be so difficult and strong willed. He blew air out of his mouth. Guess he was no different.

He nudged the raft into the water and helped Kate onto the wobbly rigging.

Then a thought came to him.

He rushed back into the woods.

"Where are you going?" Kate said.

"Just a minute." Tom picked up a pair of smaller limbs and headed back to Kate. He handed her a branch and climbed aboard. "You can use it to row."

It didn't take them long to find a steady rhythm. He paddled. She paddled. Water splashed with each stroke. But to be truthful, they made slow progress because the end of their tiny branches were rounded and not flat. They were halfway to the opposite bank, everything going according to plan, when something large dunked into the water.

Tom glanced down stream. The armored tail of a caiman sank beneath the surface. He watched as it swished toward them, its eyes fixed on its next meal.