Jungle Up by Nick Pirog

Author:Nick Pirog
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Blackstone Publishing
Published: 2021-03-10T23:09:01+00:00

28

jungle

august 18, 3:35 p.m.

days since abduction: 13

“Try,” Juan Pablo said, holding out a fistful of green leaves before my bleary eyes. “Make awake.”

The others were off relieving themselves, and Juan Pablo and I were resting against the trunk of a large tree. Camila was dangling from one of the low branches, inspecting a large yellow butterfly that had landed nearby.

A little more than twenty-four hours earlier, Felipe had his men load us on their four-wheelers and drive us the six kilometers to the spot where the stethoscope had been found.

My breath caught as I saw the line etched across the four-foot wide dirt trail. I envisioned Gina with a walking stick, dragging it across the trail, hoping it went unnoticed, then dropping her stethoscope in the brush.

And if we needed any more corroboration, Diego said the trail-crossing fit with the eastbound path we had previously elected not to follow from the drug lab.

Confident we were once again hot on Gina’s trail, though with no idea who had abducted her, we spent four hours trudging through the forest before stopping to make camp. We had woken early this morning, and after seven straight hours of hiking, I was exhausted beyond words.

In addition to my exhaustion, my ant bites were burning like hell. Not to mention the uncontrollable itching of the eighty to ninety mosquito bites covering my face, neck, and arms. Plus, after six days of sweating through my shirt, I was greasy and dirty and just so sticky. Then there was the beard. I had a few days of stubble going when I’d first heard Gina’s voicemail, but now I had nearly ten days of growth, which if you’ve ever grown a beard, is when it starts to itch.

Needless to say, I was not a happy camper.

I took the leaves from Juan Pablo and smelled them. They were pungent but not unpleasant. Juan Pablo instructed me how to chew the leaves and keep them in my cheek.

A moment later, Vern, Carlos, and Diego returned, and we started back up. Within five minutes, I was wide awake. I felt like I had drunk four Red Bulls. I could hike another five hours. Shoot, I could hike to Vancouver.

I sidled up to Vern and said, “You have to try these leaves Juan Pablo gave me. They give you a nice pep in your step.”

Vern’s eyebrows furrowed. “What leaves?”

I opened my mouth and showed him the ball of leaves in my cheek.

He let loose a loud laugh. “What do you think those leaves are, buddy?”

“I don’t know, some herbal caffeine thing.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be some famous detective?”

“I’m the Justin Bieber of detectives.”

The reference was lost on him, and I decided Bieber Fever must have missed Bolivia.

“Where were we two days ago?” he asked, leaning in, waiting for the anvil to drop.

“Coca leaves?”

“Yep,” Vern said with a smile.

I had experimented with a few different drugs in my youth. I’d smoked a little pot, I did mushrooms twice—one time was a blast, and one time I thought I was Smurfette and Gargamel was chasing me—but I’d never tried cocaine.

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