The medic stepped back. "You're all set."
"Not yet. Where's the antileech shield?"
"There hasn't been a leech sighted since we got here," Nancy exploded.
"Take no chances, that's my motto."
Somebody handed him a furled black cloth rod.
And announcing to all within hearing, "Here's where we separate the men from the wusses," Skip King opened his black umbrella and walked into the Kanda Tract boldly and without fear.
"I don't believe this," Nancy muttered, falling in behind him.
The rain forest was like another world. The sky was a thing glimpsed from time to time through the cathedrallike canopy of overhanging branches and leaves. Sunlight, filtering through the green plant life, was a watery green hue. It was almost like walking through an underwater world of heavy, breathable air in which insects tweedled and cheeped and monkeys watched from branches with orbs wiser than human eyes.
Ralph Thorpe dropped back to walk beside her. He toted a big-game rifle on his muscular shoulder. His pith helmet was decorated front and sides with the big golden Burger Triumph corporate crown logo. He had scraped off the legend "Sponsored by Burger Triumph" and had made inroads on the crown itself.
"His back makes a tempting target, what?" Thorpe undertoned.
"Don't think it hasn't crossed my mind," Nancy said aridly.
"If we get what we're after, it'll all be worth it. Don't you forget that."
"Keep telling me that. I need it."
Three hours later, they broke into a clearing and Skip King immediately fell down.
"Quicksand!" he screamed.
They rushed to his aid.
"It's just a hole!" the PR chief said reassuringly.
"No, it's not," Nancy said in a squeezed-dry voice.
"Of course it's a hole," King was saying as they helped him to his feet. His sharp face hung slack and his dark eyes seemed on the verge of tears. He had smashed his antileech umbrella against a tulip tree. It was ruined.
"Everybody get away from the hole," Nancy said. The excitement in her voice made them all look at her.
"Get away from it!" she repeated. They jumped. Her voice was that loud.
Nancy paced around the deep depression in the earth, her features holding on to composure with twitching tentativeness.
"It's a hind foot," she decided aloud.
Skip King canted his head from side to side as if trying to get a crick out of his neck.
"It is?"
"The track of one."
King came closer. "Are you sure?"
"Rear tracks have five digits with claws on three. That's according to the fossil record. These are exactly the same."
She expected him to shout something macho. Instead, he gulped, "It's bigger than I thought."
She looked up. "Afraid?"
King squared his padded shoulders. "Honey, I'm fueled by testosterone. Fear isn't in me."
"Then you won't cry over your broken umbrella, will you?" And she pushed ahead.
Skip King went pale and started after her calling, "Hey! What are you doing taking the point? That's a man's job!"
The earthquake had felled trees all over the Kanda Tract.
Mighty kapok trees had toppled, so thick around that they flattened smaller saplings to juicy splinters. Here and there, thin-boled bamboo had splintered at their bases, their fall interrupted by the creeper-festooned forest canopy.
There were splits and fissures in the earth, great red-brown wounds that had already-two months after the quakebecome green again with new plant life.
In some places the ground was as soft as peat moss poured from a plastic sack. The smell was about the same-heady, almost sweet.
The trail had petered out to a narrow path the rain forest was swiftly reclaiming. The hot air grew heavy in their lungs. The rain forest seemed to press in on them like a green, leafy stomach.
The first unusual event was the dragonflies.
Flying in arrow formation, they zipped across a break in the trees, their doubled wings flashing like iridescent vanes.
"Those can't be dragonflies," Skip muttered, freezing in his tracks.
Nancy had her Leica up and clicking.
"Fabulous."
King looked at her. "Dragonflies? Fabulous?"
"Modern dragonflies are not known to grow that big."
"Do African dragonflies behave like American dragonflies?"
"How do you mean?"
"Do they-do they sew up people's mouths?" King gulped.
"You must be joking!"